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How Happiness Holds (Monthly tale - 22) X
🕑 Added 2020-02-18 19:11:47 +0000 UTC(Woman into kitchen table)*
My eyes opened wider than I ever knew was possible.
My clothes were damp with sweat, the warm silhouette in the bed, the blankets soaked as I rose and sat upright.
I moved my hands across my face to make sure it was still there.
The only reason I didn’t deeply scratch my skin with my nails, the only reason I didn’t begin yelling without stopping , was because my dear Rob was still sleeping at my side.
“Hmmm... Honey... ou oky...?” he mumbled from his un-nightmarish premonitory dreams.
“Y-yes, yeah, sure...” I lied.
He was already fast asleep again.
The sun was just starting to come up.
It was my last day as a person.
Quite a dreadful way to begin the morning.
My first decision? I lay back down on the bed, pulled the blanket up near my chest and stared at the ceiling, I didn’t fall back asleep, it was more like a numb not-awake state that left my mind in a deafening blankness until the smell of breakfast brought me back to the dreadful reality.
I had wasted like half an hour, it wasn’t as if I knew what to do or had any plan, but it felt as bad as the constant constraining oppression I felt in my chest.
Putting my gown over my pajamas and went down the stairs.
In the kitchen Rob had already prepared breakfast and was eating it with our children, my beloved sons Junior and Benny.
They were sitting at the kitchen table.
That bitch made me frown.
“Hi, Honey! Sorry, you look terrible and I thought you would prefer to sleep in a bit more.” said Rob with jam in his beard.
Nodding I sat in my chair and stared blankly at how cheerfully they enjoyed their food.
I didn’t eat, I wasn’t hungry, it was as if I already didn’t have a stomach.
“Mom, are you alright?” asked Benny.
“Totally.” I answered, cleaning the mess of chocolate from his face.
Rob had already prepared their backpacks and cleaned the dishes, such a good man, such a perfect husband for a lousy housewife.
“Seriously, Honey, you look dreadful!” reaffirmed Rob, looking at my face closer. “Maybe you should go to the doctor.”
I doubted any doctor could fix what was going to happen to me.
“It’s fine, don’t worry, it was just a silly dream...” my life as a woman or my fate?
“If you are sure?”
They finished, they got up ready to leave, Rob to work, the kids to school.
I wondered about telling them... but I didn’t...
It was going to be pretty rough for them already, if they knew... they might not want to use me... and that made me feel even sicker for some reason.
No, I didn’t tell them, I just smiled and hugged and proclaimed my unconditional love, knowing full well that it was the last time they would see me as a woman.
I was still waving my hand and smiling like a dork when the door closed.
With that wide smile on my lips I stood there until I couldn’t hear the car any more.
Immediately I grabbed my pajama's top and ripped it apart while yelling until my lungs hurt.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!”
The frustration was killing me, the tears began to flow.
Such a drama queen.
With my nips out I ran towards the shower, undressing on my way up the stairs.
I jumped into the the shower totally naked and turned on the water, letting it flow onto my skin.
My body was skinny, my tits so small, my bush so big, my hair brown and cut short, Celina told me to cut it and I had never learned to say no.
Curling up I sat on my small bare butt on the shower’s floor, hugging my legs as the warm water kept falling down with the tears.
“I am a woman!” I yelled, clenching myself together. “I! AM! A! FUCKING! WOMAN!”
I was certain that such proclamations wouldn’t save me from my fate.
Sobbing and cursing I furiously slapped my hand onto my crotch and then slid three fingers inside my meaty pussy.
Spreading my legs I started to masturbate, it had been months since the last time, had been months since Rob had given me a good fucking.
I wanted more than anything to feel like a woman, it was as if I had never truly been one.
It was messy and angry, sobbing all the way as I increased speed, as I went deeper than ever inside my new sex, scratching the walls.
Tensing my body, squeezing my pitifully small breasts.
Sobs, snot and moans as I reached the climax, nothing pretty to see, a shallow pleasure.
The desire to begin broke by a tsunami of orgasms.
I reached them, screaming, my legs extended kicking the door of the shower as I bent forward and then back.
I just sat there under the water for a good quarter hour like a broken doll with my vision lost, three fingers half inside my leaking mature cunt.
When I began to think that I would be more okay with becoming a condom to be used and discarded the tears had stopped coming out.
Waking up from my misery into more misery I dried my eyes and sighed.
“OK, fine.”
I got up, turned the shower off, I stepped barefoot out of the bathroom, I wasn’t going to clean up all the mess I had just made.
Leaving my naked footprints in the hallway I went back to the main bedroom and picked out some clothes, a pair of jeans and a sweater with a wide turtleneck.
Then I made a stop at Rob’s dusty toolbox and picked up the heaviest hammer I could find.
Opening the door from the kitchen to the backyard I dragged the table outside to the lawn, the grass tingled against my feet.
The table was quite heavy and sturdy and made my back sweat.
When I had it in the middle of the backyard I took a moment to regain my breath, I rubbed my forehead and tightly gripped the hammer.
I hit the surface of the table hard with the hammer hard, the wood cracked and splinters flew.
I had what I would have guessed was a joyfully insane smile.
I began to hit it again, once, twice, one after another, bashing the poor table with the hard steel..
Hit after hit, laughing slightly, I had to get down onto my knees after the legs broke.
Not stopping until the muscles of my arm throbbed - tired and the table was just a pile of wood at my feet.
It made me feel a little better.
A tiny bit less of a burden on the shoulders.
Sweaty and exhilarated I just let the hammer drop onto the grass.
I was going to enter the house to think about what to do next when the phone began to ring, it was Celina, I didn’t feel like talking to her.
Yet I took the call.
“Grace! Where are you, girl? We are at the cafeteria! It’s coffee time with the girls, hurry up! Move your skinny ass!”
There wasn’t anything that I wanted less than having to go hang with that pack of bitches.
“Sure, I had a bad night, let me put on my shoes and I’ll be on my way.”
I had never learned to say no.
I got my shoes, I left my wedding ring on the nightstand.
...
It felt like I already had splinters in my throat as I sat at the same table as always in the same cafeteria as always.
They were all there already.
Celina, a black trophy wife that hung with us because the rich don’t let her be a bitch around them.
Anna, the stiff Asian business woman type.
The hippy-head of Meg.
And the former cheerleader and now noisy parrot Louise.
I hated all of their guts, they were my best friends.
They were all boring housewives, just like me, but I don’t feel like explaining how they look.
I don’t even know how or why I can tell this tale.
So do as I do and imagine them sitting naked in front of me, so they will be a bit more tolerable.
Their tits outs and their bushes exposed to the air - we will talk as if they talked and acted like they had any more right to dignity than I or anybody else.
Fuck off, I don’t even want to make sense.
“Damn, girl!” shouted Louise with her long, long, long curly brown hair covering her saggy tits. “You look terrible.”
“Totally terrible.” confirmed Anna, cold and uncaring only wearing her stupid glasses.
I nodded and tried to smile.
“I had quite a bad night with a horrible nightmare...”
There was some laughter, but none of them cared enough to even ask what horrible thing had been shown to me in the nightmare.
Celina began to babble about one of the teachers at the school our kids were at and the others jumped like vultures to tear apart a perfectly reasonable lady that had just asked if they had checked if their sons had done their homework with vile words.
They jumped from pointless topic to pointless topic, self-congratulating themselves on their vapid ignorance.
A deafening white noise to my ears, had it always been like this?
I didn’t even know how that cup of Mocha had ended up in my hands.
“And that whore behind the counter told me I couldn’t return the panties because I may have used them, can you believe it Grace?” Meg was talking directly to me through the chattering sea of noise. “Grace?” she snapped her fingers in front of my face, making me narrow my eyes. “Fuck, are you even on this planet?”
Have I told you how much I hate them?
“No, I’m not.”
The chattering ended, they all looked at me and I sighed deeply.
Anna pushed up her glasses.
“You’re really gonna make a scene because you had a bad dream?”
Frigid ass bitch.
“It wasn’t a dream, it was a premonition, I’m certain of it, I will become a kitchen table today and will have to... exist... I guess, as one. And also… I hate you all.”
Celina didn’t contain her grunt.
“Good lord, Grace, cut that shit off!”
“Fuck you Celina, I hate you - you’re the most, stupid trophy wife.”
Shock and silence at the table.
“I think someone is going to end up without friends today!” said Louise. “But why does a table have a need for friends?”
I blinked and smirked and then agreed.
“Yes, a table doesn’t have a need for friends, but I could use some chairs!” I said loudly so everybody around looked at us, then I looked at each one of those so called friends, directly in the eyes. “You are pretty lousy as people, as am I, that means you would be perfect chairs for me. So I wish and hope that once I have had to suffer this humiliation to my flesh you all get the same dream, gather and come to my home and become nice chairs. Wouldn’t that be neat? I will leave a backdoor key for you under the stone near the entrance gate.”
They were speechless, I was glad for the first time since I had woken up.
“Fuck off!” yelled Celina.
I looked at her last.
“Yeah, being a chair is too good for you, so good luck being a stool!”
I got up and stormed off, I didn’t care at all about their answers, but I did hope they ended as my... furniture complements?
Why should I care what a bunch of chairs and a stool thought?
I am a table after all.
I didn’t have any direction or plan, I just wanted to wander off to nowhere as if that would help me escape my fate.
Have you ever noticed how many restaurants and food places there are on every corner?
It’s especially annoying when you don’t feel like you could eat anymore.
It was a flashy restaurant that attracted my eyes, it’s big windows revealing it was full of people having a good time, but what attracted my attention wasn’t the people, but one of the tables.
As you probably have guessed...
I think I might have opened a third eye or something, because that table was a woman.
A fat woman standing on her hands and feet as two business men discussed something trivial with their plates on her back.
Immediately I ran into the restaurant and saw the woman’s smiling face in the staff pictures near the big menu by the entrance.
Tara Galgot, she was one of the chefs.
“Miss, do you have a reservation?” asked the greeter boy near the entrance. “Miss?!” he yelled as I ran past him towards the table.
The conversation between the two businessmen was interrupted when I knelt near their table, near Tara’s head.
“Hey! Hey!” I snap my fingers near her face, she was blankly staring into nothingness. “Do you hear me?!”
I must have looked pretty dangerous, but I had to know.
How hadn’t the men noticed the round bumps of her ass? One of their plates was right on top, why wasn’t it falling?
Why didn’t they feel her big chubby tits hanging down near their legs.
“Miss?” asked a woman’s voice behind me. “Do you have a problem?”
I look back, it was a young waitress, accompanied by the greeter and two other staff members.
With my eyes wide open I pointed at Tara’s face.
“Don’t you see it?!”
“See what...?” mumbled the waitress with a worried expression.
For them it must be like I was pointing at an empty space, I was the only one that saw the poor chef-made-table.
“It’s Tara! That chef!” I exclaimed.
“Tara’s missing, what are you talking about?”
I grabbed the waitress’ hand and put it on Tara’s round cheeks.
“See?!” I was yelling.
Looking down I saw that Tara had closed her eyes, she was blushing and crying with regret.
The waitress escaped from my grasp and took a few steps back, rubbing her waist.
“Please, Miss, leave, we don’t want to call the cops.”
“She’s a woman! I am a woman!”
The two staff members grabbed me by the arms, I didn’t try to resist as they dragged me outside.
Tara was looking directly at me, I didn’t know shit about her, but I had a good guess at how she ended up in the same position I was going to end up in.
She understood me, raw sincerity in her eyes, my heart sank, I couldn’t accept it.
“WE ARE WOMEN!”
I was pushed outside, the door closed, all eyes were looking at me, but not at Tara, cos Tara was just a table.
I began to wander away again.
Either I wasn’t crazy or I had gone totally insane.
As I passed in front of furniture stores I imagined a world in which some of their contents were women frozen in uncomfortable and humiliating postures, unable to move and without a voice.
I imagined those free magazines they leave in your mailbox, filled with pictures of ladies in such positions but where nobody notices.
Or cares.
The sun was going down.
I didn’t have anywhere else to go.
So I went back to the kitchen, the place I belonged.
...
Left my clothes all over the floor.
Put the key where I had told the chairs and barefooted I stepped onto the cold kitchen tiles, the orange light entered through the windows, warming my naked skin.
The empty space left where the kitchen table was felt like a sinkhole.
An empty void dragging me towards the inevitable.
I rubbed my arm.
My nipples hard, my cunt clenched.
I didn’t let any tears escape.
It was going to happen.Swallowing I took a step forward, let my arms hang stiffly by my sides, closed my eyes, clenched my fists and I waited.
A dog barked in the distance as I held my breath.
I changed.
Bones snapped and cracked, specifically in my right leg.
I groaned.
“Aaaagh!”
The leg grew stiff, motionlessly stiff, firmly planted on the floor, I couldn’t move it, even when I tried to pull at it with both hands.
Heart racing, sweat and tears.
My body shifting away from my control.
The knee grew hard and I almost lost my balance, I had to spin my arms to stay upright.
And then I noticed I couldn’t move the left leg.
“No! Wait...!”
Crack and snap.
The left leg also began to change and stiffen, I couldn’t hold myself as my legs spread.
Literally.
I fell backwards and my arms moved along with the motion, ending up on the floor in front of my back.
“Fuck! FUCK!”
My body was left in a precarious bridged posture, I had never been so flexible, I wondered for an instant about doing yoga before my arms also began to twist into that stiffened state.
Looking down from my precarious posture I could see my hard nipples and pubes down my tense flat belly.
I yelled as my shoulders and hips widened.
“AAAAAAAAAH!”
I moaned and gasped as bones reformed and muscles hardened, it felt like having splinters in my throat and skin and everywhere.
As my neck shrank between my shoulders I couldn’t deny it even if I tried to, that I was transforming into a goddam kitchen table.
In my own house.
Down below I couldn’t see, but I certainly felt how my fingers and toes were sucked inside my hands and the feet and then they were sucked into my wrists and the ankles.
Skin cracked as if it was already wood and then began to turn into just that.
A crust of simple, sturdy brown wood that climbed up my stiff arms and legs.
It was horrible to see how the shape of my body was being deformed and twisted into a plane surface, breasts and crotch extended over the flat surface of skin, my struggling face on top.
My hair fell, down from my head, down around my pussy.
“LORD! SHIT! SHIT!”
I couldn’t stop myself from screaming when the wood growing up my legs reached my vagina, transforming, covering, the utter mockery of my sex being reduced to a knot in the wood.
Crying, yelling, protesting.
It was really happening, I couldn’t escape.
“Why?!” WHY!”
Was it my fault? Was it because I saw my dear Rob, my beloved husband, watching perverted stuff on the internet?
Surely he was cheating on me, don’t you think?
I’m not wrong!
It is my fault.
We barely made love anymore, he would find a better woman, a real woman, he would give them what they needed.
And I will... be just a thing...
A useful thing.
I’m not wrong...
“GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!”
My buttocks stretched, my anus another odd mark in the flat wood.
Quickly extending, covering skin, replacing me with something better.
I couldn’t escape.
No matter how much I wanted to.
My bald head shook on the top of the table body, a weird mix of living flesh and inanimate timber.
What would even be left of me?
That fat chef lady, she was still kinda aware... in a terrible way...
My breasts were covered by the damning crust, my nipples left in perpetual hardness.
My limbs were now just legs, table legs, sticks that held my long rectangular flat torso.
My head was the last thing barely human.
Crying, tears that would leave the wood moist when my terrible metamorphosis ended.
I tried to resist as my head was pulled backwards, forced to lay on the surface that were once my shoulders, sinking onto it.
The sunlight never seemed so orange.
I hated the kitchen.
My face stretched across the wooden surface.
I couldn’t breath, my heart beat very, very, very slightly.
I could hear the cracking of the wood before I lost my ears.
My teeth clenched, my lips, my eyes.
The wood took over my life and I let myself fall into the bliss of the void.
Just a thing in the kitchen.
...
Celina, Anna, Meg and Louise walked down the street at noon with a mournful shade over their shoulders.
Celina was slightly forward, Meg was hugging herself with both arms and Anna noticed that.
“What’s wrong?”
“You don’t know...?” asked Meg with a broken voice.
Ann lips trembled and Louise made a soft sob as she rubbed her nose.
Celina stop making the others stop, she look back at them with anger.
“Cut that crap already!” she yelled.
“Says the stool...” mumble very low Louise between sobs.
Celina only heard the last word.
“What did you said?!”
Louise recoiled lowering her eyes.
“Nothing...”
“STOP! Look at me! We are not chairs!” there was no conviction in Celina’s yelling, despair on her pleading eyes. “We absolutely and definitely are not chairs...!”
