Popularity Ch. 01

That was my mother's voice calling out. Before I answered, I noticed that shampoo bottles, bodywash and decorative soaps had all spilled onto the floor. It looked like somebody had trashed the bathroom.

* * *

As it turns out, while I had been talking to Callidus, the town had been hit by a 5.9 magnitude earthquake. My family and all the other hotel guests were shaken up and worried that we might get hit by aftershocks. And while I shared their concerns, I wondered if the earthquake might have had something to do with my summoning of Callidus. She said that she could alter reality. Did altering reality have side effects?

My mother checked Haley and me for injuries. After inspecting me all over, she found only minor scratches. Once she was assured that neither of her daughters was seriously hurt, she took an avittan to calm her nerves.

"Hey, Mom, could I have one of those?"

I wasn't normally one to take drugs, but the thought that I might have caused an earthquake by summoning an ancient pre-Christian goddess had my heart racing and reflexive feelings of guilt gripping into me. I needed something to calm my nerves too.

* * *

The next morning, I couldn't find my glasses. When you've suffered with vision problems your entire life, keeping your glasses close at hand is a high priority. For years, I've kept them on my nightstand at night and put them on my face shortly after waking up.

I searched the drawers of the nightstand, I checked the floor, I checked the bed, I couldn't find my glasses anywhere.

I decided that maybe I had left them in the bathroom and padded barefoot into the bathroom to go check.

I didn't see my glasses, but I did catch a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror.

"No fucking way!"

I turned on the bathroom lights and stared wide eyed and slack jawed at my reflection.

I was gorgeous.

Instead of the square shaped face I'd grown up with, I had an oval shaped face with high cheekbones. Instead of thin lips, I had plump, seductive lips. Instead of coppery brown hair, I had blonde hair like spun gold.

And instead of being flat chested, I had impressive C-cup boobs. I looked like a lingerie model with my sexy boobs. I squealed with delight and grabbed them with both hands.

"This is awesome!" I exclaimed as I cupped them, admiring my reflection in the mirror, lifting them up, making a grand display of my newfound physical attributes.

My new boobs had extremely responsive nipples. They became hard and erect almost instantly when my fingers brushed across them. I bounced up and down on the balls of my feet, overjoyed with my new face and body. And just then, the bathroom door opened, and my sister walked in.

I felt a surge of anxiety mixed with embarrassment as Haley gave me a judgmental look.

Then finally she opened her mouth and said, "Alex, what are you doing? The way you're fondling your boobs, you look like you have a crush on yourself."

I quickly released my grip on my boobs and defensively insisted that I wasn't fondling myself.

"I was just warming them up with my hands," I insisted. "They were cold."

"Uh-huh," Haley said, sounding unconvinced. "You know, there are these things called shirts. They can help protect your boobs from getting chilly. Or you could get back into bed and hide your boobs under the covers. It's 6:00 am and you're on vacation. You shouldn't be up this early anyway."

"I came in here looking for my glasses," I explained.

"What glasses? You don't wear glasses," Haley retorted as she raised an eyebrow at me.

I blinked at that, and suddenly realized how vividly I was able to see my sister. She was totally in focus. Everything was totally in focus! Ordinarily, the world was blurry without my glasses, but suddenly the world was in focus! Apparently, Callidus not only made me beautiful, but she also cured my vision problems!

"Um, you know what," I replied. "You're right. I was confused. I think I hit my head last night, when that earthquake shook the building."

"I am one hundred percent sure you hit your head," Haley retorted. "Now, get back into bed or put on a shirt. But whatever you're gonna do, do it someplace else. I have to pee, and I can't do it with you standing there."

I went someplace else, but I was too excited to get back into bed. Instead, I put on a shirt and pants and went downstairs to the lobby. I soon discovered that I should have put on a bra as well.

It turns out that when your boobs are big enough to fill up your hands, they're big enough to bounce when you jog or run up and down stairs. And all that bouncing can be awkward and painful. After years of being flat-chested I had an abrupt education on what it was like to have beauty pageant sized boobs.

I also got something of a history lesson. Callidus didn't just change my current physical appearance. She went back and changed history. Everyone remembered me as having boobs ever since I was thirteen. And absolutely nobody could remember me ever needing glasses. Damn! These Pagan goddesses were impressive! Going back in time and rewriting history? Who knew they could do that?

I was also taller.

I was so impressed by my new Wonder Woman boobs and perfect eyesight it took me a while to notice that I'd shot up from 5'1" to 5'7". Can you believe it? I grew six whole inches in one night! I was now one inch taller than Haley! I was winning! I was actually taller than her!

The original timeline could suck it! I was enjoying the new timeline that Callidus had created! She was awesome! I'd have to go back to that shop and ask Elena what sort of things Callidus's followers did to show her their appreciation. I was very much appreciating what she did for me.

I went down to the section of beach where Elena's shop was located. I was going to ask her questions about Callidus and show her the extraordinary results of Callidus's handiwork, but Elena was nowhere to be found and her shop had been destroyed by the earthquake.

All of the shops on that section of beach had been damaged, but Elena's shop had taken the worst of it. All the windows had been broken, the front door had come off its hinges and the roof had completely caved in.

"Crap," I exclaimed. I had wanted to talk to Elena about my newfound good fortune, but her shop was both destroyed and empty. I talked to a few people in the area that were doing damage control at their own shops, but none of them knew where I could find Elena or if she was even alive.

* * *

I was back at the hotel, with my dad's iPad, looking at family photos. I remembered most of the events where these photos were taken, but my appearance had changed dramatically in every photo. Instead of the awkward, bespectacled, nerdy girl I remembered, every photo revealed a beautiful, blonde girl that looked so graceful.

My entire awkward, nerdy past had been erased and now everyone remembered me as being a bewitching beauty my entire life. I spent almost an hour scrolling through family photos and admiring my new and improved look, when I heard my phone go ding.

It was a sound my phone made when I got a text message. Text messages were a rarity for me, as I had no social life, so I was excited to hear my phone making that noise.

"Holy crap," I exclaimed when I checked my phone. I had tons of text messages! Maybe the old me didn't have a social life, but the new me did. I discovered I had tons of friends and they texted me all the time.

My most recent text was from a girl named Leona, inviting me to something called the 'aftershock party.'

It sounded like fun. I decided to text her back and accept her invitation. Two seconds after I pressed send, a guy named Chris sent me a text inviting me to the same party. Then I got another invitation from someone named Tress.

"Hah! I'm popular now!"

The aftershock party was basically a pool party where everyone swam, told exaggerated stories about their earthquake experiences and attempted to hook up with somebody cute.

I'd need a stylish yet sexy swimsuit to wear for the party. At first, I thought I'd have to go shopping for one; I'd never owned a sexy swimsuit before.

Then, it occurred to me. The old me had never owned a sexy swimsuit, but maybe the new me did.

I discovered that I had half a dozen swimsuits to choose from. I tried on each of them, one at a time and finally settled on a lycra one-piece that was sleek and revealing with skinny shoulder straps, cut low in the front thus revealing a lot of cleavage, and cut high on the leg, leaving my ass almost completely exposed. I could feel the fabric of the suit digging tightly into my ass crack, but my glutes were so firm and perfectly shaped I wanted to show them off. I tolerated the unfamiliar sensation of lycra digging insistently between my buttocks, pressing against my delicate anus and just enjoyed the thrill of putting my perfect butt on display.

Soon after I arrived at the party, I learned that Chris, Leona and Tress were all Americans who were staying at the same hotel as my family. I had just met them a few days ago, but with my new body and my new cover girl face, I made friends quickly and easily.

"Alex, let me get you a drink!"

Cute guys brought me drinks, listened to my stories, laughed at my jokes and took selfies with me. I was loving all the attention. It was a huge ego boost to finally have cute guys flirt with me. At some point in the evening, I realized that some of the girls were flirting with me as well. The girls were much more subtle than the guys. Initially, I thought they were just being friendly, but once Haley explained what they were doing, I saw things in a whole new light.

I wasn't into girls, but I was flattered all the same. It made me feel adored and extraordinary to have young, attractive people of two different genders smitten with me. I was high on a social status euphoria. It seemed that everyone wanted to be close to me. I was popular and everything was going my way. It wasn't until we got back to the United States that I realized that Callidus had screwed me.

* * *

It was July the 31st, and we were back home. Haley and I were unpacking and at one point she said, "You know what? You're very brave. I'm proud of you."

I was taken aback. Haley wasn't known for giving me compliments. Also, I had no idea what she was talking about. What did I do? Why did she think I was brave?

I was going to just thank her for the kind words and move on, but then she hugged me, and I was freaked out. Haley and I have lived together my entire life and I don't think she's ever hugged me once.

"What's all this?" I asked.

"Well, my little sister is going away for four years," Haley explained as she softened the hug but didn't let go. "And I worry about what's going to happen to you while you're at that creepy place."

"Creepy place?" I asked, breaking from the hug.

Haley raised her eyebrows at me and said, "The OPS. What other creepy place would I be talking about?"

"Um," I responded, trying and failing not to seem totally ignorant of the situation.

"Hey, Haley," I said cautiously, "How about you pretend I have no idea what you're talking about, and you explain to me what is the OPS?"

The quizzical look on my sister's face deepened and she said, "Just how hard did you hit your head during that earthquake? I think you might have a concussion."

"Yeah, maybe," I conceded. "But humor me for a moment. Tell me all about the OPS and me going away for four years. Explain it to me like I'm just finding out about all this shit for the first time."

"Okay, but after this, I'm taking you to the hospital," Haley insisted.

I stood there in our bedroom and Haley explained to me that the Office of Patriotic Service was first proposed in legislation by Congressman Mark Foley back in 2003. Some people in the media thought it was a joke, but the legislation rapidly picked up co-sponsors and President Bush signed it into law later that year.

"When the OPS became a federal agency for the owning and handling of sex slaves, I think it was supposed to just be for Congressmen and Congressional aides. There'd been a lot of Republican legislators that got into trouble because of you know, sex scandals and secret affairs, senators, congressmen and whatnot. The idea was that if there was a federal agency that catered to the sick embarrassing sexual desires of our legislators quietly and discreetly, there wouldn't be any more sex scandals."

"So, the taxpayers were okay with funding the kinky sex drives of dirty old men?"

"At the time, it made sense," Haley explained. "There was a huge thing where they made it sound like this program was super-patriotic and anyone who opposed it hated America. Bill O'Reilly and Ann Coulter went on TV and somehow made it sound like if you didn't support the OPS, you were a terrorist."

"Crap," I exclaimed.

"Anyway, they've expanded the program since then. Now, all kinds of important and powerful people use the OPS to indulge in their sexual fantasies. Judges, governors, mayors, ambassadors, diplomats, military leaders. Also, I think journalists sometimes get to take advantage of the sex slaves. Although, that's not official policy, that's just something the OPS does to keep the support of American Mainstream Media."

Haley went on to explain that every year young men and women were ordered to report to OPS field offices, as they'd been selected to serve as a sex slave for a time period of anywhere between six months to four years. I'd gotten a summons in the mail weeks ago, ordering me to appear at the OPS office in Sacramento.

Haley told my mother about my apparent memory loss and in true mom style, she went into protective mode. I told her that I felt fine, but she insisted on taking me to the doctor.

"Forgetting the square root of 3,025 is no big deal," my mother said adamantly. "But forgetting that you've been sentenced to four years of sexual slavery isn't normal. You probably have a concussion."

I knew exactly why I didn't remember being ordered by the government to surrender to the OPS, but I couldn't tell my mom that it was due to a Pagan goddess rewriting history and not filling me in on the details. That would just intensify her belief that my brain had been damaged.

Doctor Cole had a last-minute cancellation and was able to see me right away. At eighteen years old legally I'm an adult, but my mother insisted on being in the room when Doctor Cole examined me and I didn't have the energy to argue with her.

"There's a huge hole in her memory," my mother blurted out. "And a few days ago, she hit her head during that earthquake down in Ciudad Paraiso. I think she has a concussion."

Doctor Cole was calm and professional while my mom was freaking out. She tried to deescalate the situation and recommended that she run some tests to get an accurate picture of my condition.

I probably should have been terrified at the prospect of being the sexual plaything of prurient strangers for the next four years of my life, but my family's concern about my memory loss and Doctor Cole's battery of medical tests kept me so distracted, it was like I forgot to be worried about my inevitable fate.

She checked my vision, my balance, my cognitive skills, then she ordered an MRI and a CT scan. It took hours to get all of these tests done, and it helped to keep my mind focused. Also, Doctor Cole had a friendly face and a soothing voice, so that probably helped to keep me calm as well.

"We didn't find anything abnormal on the scans," Doctor Cole said after looking at the results of my MRI and my CT-scan, "but that's not proof positive that there's no injury to the brain. They have doctors at the OPS in Sacramento. I'd like to send them your test results along with my notes, so they know to keep an eye on you and make sure you don't exhibit symptoms later on."

I signed a form to have copies of my medical records sent over to the doctors in Sacramento. I knew there was no concussion, but it was best to play along and pretend that there might be. Also, going through the motions of bureaucracy and paperwork kept my mind from dwelling on all the humiliations and abuse I'd soon be suffering at the hands of sinister VIPs.

I was expected to show up in Sacramento on August the 4th. If I didn't show up voluntarily, the OPS would send out agents to collect me and drag me there by force.

As it got closer and closer to that date, Haley became warmer and friendlier towards me. Who would have guessed that what Haley and I needed to become closer as sisters was for me to become a naked sex slave?

During the short time I had left, Haley and I spent a lot of quality time together. Haley loves rollerblading and ice skating, but she never used to allow me to come along when she engaged in these activities. She always acted like my presence would ruin her fun. But with my four years of forced sexual service coming up, Haley was only too eager to have me join her for rollerblading.

It turned out I was a natural at it. With my new body, I had strong calves, exceptional hand-eye coordination and a strong core. I was as graceful and artistic as Haley, and I bladed every bit as well. We even held hands and matched out speeds as we shot down steep hills. We laughed and girlishly screamed with delight as we enjoyed the rush of traveling at breakneck speeds.

Haley still hated my taste in pop culture, it turned out. Some things just don't change. One of my favorite TV shows was an animated show called Disenchantment. She claimed that it was childish and nerdy, and before, she'd always refused to watch it, but with my upcoming fate in Sacramento, she plopped down on the couch and we watched it together. We even bonded over the character P.T. McGee as he reminded us both of an annoying teacher we knew from high school.

My newfound congenial relationship with my sister warmed my heart and somehow made me feel braver. Maybe that's irrational but knowing that when my four years of sexual slavery were done, I'd have my amiable big sister waiting for me made my upcoming fate seem not so dreadful.

* * *

On August the 4th my mother drove me to Sacramento. Haley broke out in tears when it was time for me to go. She said that she would miss me terribly, but she couldn't get in the car with me. Riding with me to Sacramento would make it too 'real' for her and she wanted to remember me as a free woman, not a naked prisoner.

My mother wasn't thrilled about seeing me taken into custody and turned into a naked sex slave either. But she didn't want me taking the trip to the OPS alone. She wanted there to be at least one friendly face in the room with me when I lost my freedom.

The lobby of the OPS looked like the lobby of any other well-funded government agency. But the attitude of the place changed once it was announced that I was there to be enslaved. At the reception desk my mother explained who I was and why I was there.

"This is Alex Winter. She's been sentenced to four years of slavery in your...institution. I'm her mother. Is there some sort of official paperwork or procedure I need to go through to turn her over to you?"

"Please sign here," the fashionable receptionist said. I was also given something to sign. I skimmed the official looking document before I signed it. I vaguely remember it saying something about waiving a multitude of my legal rights during the four-year time period that I would be incarcerated.

I sighed heavily. I could go into this quietly, or I could resist violently, kicking and screaming the whole way. Either way, it wasn't going to be easy.

"You're being very calm and reasonable," the petite receptionist said as I handed back her pen. "You have no idea how much I appreciate that. It is so stressful when the people who are brought in scream, struggle and throw tantrums."