A Silly Repossession

To say that Connie Clearwater had enemies was akin to saying that the sky was blue. She was one of the harshest repossession agents in service with Federal United Bank, and she took pride in being the one to put the ‘FU’ in her bank’s name.

She’d always expected that one day one of her clients would be so fed up with her that they’d take up arms against her—hell, she’d planned for it. The woman always kept a Taser on her person at all times, ready for such a situation.

But while she was completely prepared for the threat of violence, the repo agent was completely unprepared for the threat of transformation. In her defense, she was one of those people who thought that magic wasn’t real—not that it did her any good.

This is the story of Connie’s last repossession job, something that was supposed to be a simple claims recall from an elderly woman with an impressive doll collection…

Connie pounded on the door to the house impatiently. By her schedule, this was the first house of three that she’d go to today, earning her a net profit of around ten thousand dollars. Not much, but certainly a good way to end the month.

That is, it would be if the owner of this house would open the door… Connie pursed her lips tightly and pounded on the door to the house again. This job was a Ms. Gretel Hildebrand, a woman who had somehow come into possession of a stolen painting.

Connie didn’t know how and she didn’t care how the woman got it; the repossession agent only cared that she got it back. She had scoped out the place beforehand and had determined that the old woman wouldn’t be any trouble. Aside, evidently, for the fact that she needed to take some time to get moving.

“Come on, ma’am, I don’t have all day!” The woman growled under her breath, raising her arm to pound on the door once more. This time she held herself back, the door clicking and swinging open to reveal a doddering old lady with a cane.

“Sorry dearie, but when you get to my age… I don’t quite think that I got your name… Or what it is you’re doing here.” She squinted her wrinkled eyes up to Connie, then yelped as the woman brusquely pushed her way past the doorway. “And what gives you the authority to intrude on my home!”

Connie sighed and rolled her eyes, looking back to the woman tiredly. “My name is Connie, and I happen to be a repossession agent. I’m here to reclaim…” She paused, realizing that this old woman would likely play the ‘senility’ card and pretend she had no idea about the painting. “I’m here to reclaim an item on the behalf of one of our clients.”

“Really, now?” The old woman narrowed her eyes. “No doubt after one of my little dolls… Or perhaps that painting I recently acquired?” A twinkle appeared in her eyes that sent shivers down Connie’s spine, gone just as the she noticed it.

“You do realize that in being intentionally vague, you’re obstructing justice? I do have the power to arrest you.” Connie tapped her foot on the floor idly, not caring about what her shoes were doing to the wood. It was best to act imposing with elderly people; they tended to forget that age did not render one invisible to the law.

“Oh? And tell me, do you really think that a woman of your evidently high stature should be wearing such large and silly shoes?” Ms. Hildebrand said with a smirk on her face as she looked at Connie.

Connie blinked, momentarily taken off-guard. Nobody had ever insulted her shoes before. She looked down at her pumps, wondering what the old woman thought were ‘large’ or ‘silly’ about them, finding nothing.

“I beg your pardon?” Connie looked up to the old woman, finding her still looking down at the repossession agent’s feet. The woman was unable to keep herself from looking down again, and this time she found she was wearing some very different footwear.

Instead of the professional pumps she’d expected to see, she now saw a pair of clown shoes on her feet, a veritable set of loony loafers. The woman blinked in in surprise, taking a step back and accidentally causing one of her oversized shoes to squeak loudly.

“W-what just happened? What are you doing?” Connie blinked up to the old woman, reaching for her Taser. But when she pulled it from her coat, she only revealed a clowny squirt gun. It was cheap plastic with a flower at the end.

Of course it didn’t keep her from pulling the trigger. Connie pointed it at the woman and tried firing her new squirt gun, hoping she was somehow hallucinating. But instead of firing forward, the gun sprayed back at her head, and Connie found herself gagging, wiping off her face in a hurry.

Sure, some of her make-up came with it, but… Connie looked down to her hands, finding much more peach-colored makeup there than she’d put on. The woman nervously glanced to one of the many mirrors in the woman’s house, only to yelp at the sight of her face.

She was a pale white, like she’d wiped off the skin on her face to reveal that of a mannequin’s underneath. The woman turned to her assignment and glowered at her. “What is this? Some sort of hallucinogenic drug?”

“Oh no, dearie.” Ms. Hildebrand smiled. “Just magic. By the way, you’ve got something on your nose.”

Before Connie knew what she was doing, she brought her hand up to her nose, pressing against it.

HONK

The sound emerged from her nose, and Connie flinched, pressing against her nose again. Again, another honk filled the air, and Connie found herself flushing as an unexpected pleasure filled her body. Why was she so warm right now? Was it her nose?

The woman squeezed the tip of her nose a third time, and this time the ensuing honk was accompanied by her nose aching. She watched as it started to widen, growing on her face to become almost a ball. She knew she should be panicked, yet she couldn’t keep herself from squeezing her nose again and giggling as her big nose began to redden.

A few more honks and it was a scarlet ball on her pale face, the sight of which bringing her no small amount of mirth. She had no idea why it was so funny; it just was! The woman found herself laughing along, a warm and rich pleasure coursing through herself.

“Hm? I’m sorry, it must be my old age, but what did you say your name was again? Clownie?” Ms. Hildebrand smiled quietly, looking at her aggressor. She seemed a lot less old now—though her appearance was the same, her manners were that of a younger, stronger woman.

“Nnh? No, it’s… It’s…” Cownie blinked. Why couldn’t she remember her name? It wasn’t Clownie, she was Cownie… Cownie… She was Conn… Clonn… Cown… Clownie? Why couldn’t she remember anything other than Clownie?

The woman honked her nose again for comfort, biting her lip nervously. It was so hard to think of things, she just wanted to keep honking her nose and think of herself as Clownie… Even though she couldn’t remember her real name, this one was close enough. At least, she felt it was…

She squeaked her nose again and giggled, feeling her worries and some of her intelligence slip away. It was intoxicating, like taking shots of the sweetest liqueur. Clownie found herself squeezing her nose again, smiling happily as thick makeup spread its way around her eyes, giving them dark rings.

“Yes, that’s very good; Clownie. You just want to keep squeezing your nose and erase all of those silly human thoughts don’t you? After all, you’re such a dumb clown now, only here to play and be played with. Just like a toy.”

That time the old woman’s voice sent shivers down Clownie’s spine, and she began to realize something was amiss. Not in time to keep herself from honking her horn again, though. This time her scalp tingled, and the woman reached a hand up to feel her hair curling.

That was enough of a shock to ground her, and Clownie spun to a mirror to find that her hair was turning a cherry red. She blushed, then squeaked as she found a similar scarlet shade spreading along her cheeks.

The repossession agent had to do something; she couldn’t just keep honking her nose… Or could she… No, she couldn’t! She had to get these bad thoughts out! Clownie shook her head to try and get back to reality, shaking out her red hair and curling it more. “N… No… Clownie is here to repossess things…” She bit her lip nervously, her thoughts addled worse than as if she were drunk.

“Oh, are you sure? You don’t want to honk your nose again like a good and silly clown?” Ms. Hildebrand said with a cruel smile on her lips, her cane clunking against the ground as she walked over to a cabinet.

“Nnh!” Clownie bit her lip, just barely keeping herself from squeaking her nose again. The last time she’d done that, she’d forgotten her name! She didn’t want to risk losing herself anymore! The woman shook her head again. “No, no, no! Clownie is here to repossess things!”

“Oh, my. I didn’t mean to make you upset.” The old witch smiled, opening the cabinet and revealing a set of brightly colored balls. “Perhaps these are what you were looking for? No need to move, I’ll throw them to you.”

Clownie nodded hesitantly, a dubious look in her heavily made-up eyes. What was the old woman playing at? Was she going to toss one of the balls at Clownie’s nose and make her forget even more? Clownie wouldn’t stand for that, she’d catch it before it came to that!

But to the transforming woman’s surprise, the old woman simply gently lobbed a blue ball to her, a nice and easy throw that was simple to catch. The next ball, a red one this time, was tossed just as easily, and Clownie caught it with her other hand.

But when a green ball followed it, Clownie realized she didn’t have a hand to catch it in. She squeaked and hurriedly tossed the red ball in her right hand in the air, catching the green one with a relieved smile, only to yelp again as she realized that she had nothing to catch the red ball with.

Clownie frantically lobbed the blue ball in her left hand up, passing the green one to her empty hand so she could catch the red one once more in her right. Yes, this was it! She could keep passing the balls from hand to hand, and then she wouldn’t need to worry about dropping—

“Very good, very good!” Ms. Hildebrand smiled, tossing two more balls at Clownie, making her toss the balls faster and faster. “Tell me, my dear, how does it feel to juggle?”

Clownie blinked in surprise, then squeaked as her suit swirled and transformed, becoming a yellow-and-red striped onesie that looked like it belonged on a circus clown. Her ornate golden buttons became silly red tassels, and her sleeves now all ended in poofy red frills. But the worst if it by far was the thick red frill that appeared on her collar, tickling her neck.

“J-juggling?” Clownie yelped. Juggling was something clowns did, she wasn’t a clown, she didn’t want to juggle! But she couldn’t just drop the balls, either! Her heart hammered as she started to back away from the cruel old witch, trying to escape any more balls.

Unfortunately for the repossession agent, she was too focused on what was before her face to look behind her, and she accidentally slipped on the pen she’d dropped moments before. Clownie yelped comically, her eyes wide as she fell onto her back, tossing the balls into the air.

They hung there for a moment; then fell, as if in slow motion, towards the fallen woman. One at a time, they pounded into her nose, each one of them calling a loud and sharp honk. Clownie whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for that same rush of mind-numbing pleasure to wash across herself.

But to her surprise, it never came. Instead, she only felt her nose ache on her face. Was this the extent of her transformation? Was she free? The woman brought her hand to her nose, giving it a tentative and sharp honk.

She immediately realized her mistake as a surge of heart-pounding adrenaline gripped her body, making her let loose a silly ‘hyuk’ of laughter from her throat. She groaned as much of her college education fled from her mind, and her hands instinctively clenched, unintentionally honking her nose once again.

It was like Clownie had dove into a Jacuzzi: all of her thoughts and worries simply melted away, and she found a blissful and blank state of mind settling in across her brain, sinking deep into her mind. Her mouth fell slack as thick red lipstick drew over her lips, and when she honked her nose yet again the makeup doubled in volume, covering her face as well.

“Hyuk-hyuk!” Clownie laughed, her gaze glazing over as she shivered, feeling that white makeup from her face cover the rest of her body too, her whole skin as white as the cotton that was clouding her brain.

“There, isn’t that better? Don’t you feel so much better honking your nose like a dumb clown?” Ms. Hildebrand smiled at Clownie mockingly, hobbling over to the fallen woman.

Something in her town set Clownie’s mind on edge, and she looked up to the witch in surprise. “Well, gosh,” she began, her accent making the word sound more like ‘gawrsh’, “Clownie doesn’t really like being called a dumb clown. You know, she’s a smartie-pants reposs… Repo… Take-back person!”

“Oh?” Ms. Hildebrand smiled down at the woman. “And what is it you take back? Can you tell me that?”

Clownie furrowed her brow, her face unknowingly breaking into a wide smile, as though it was her natural expression. “Clownie… Clownie doesn’t know… Clownie doesn’t know!” Her eyes widened and she looked up to the old woman desperately. “Clownie should know, but she doesn’t!”

“Well, my dear. Maybe it’s because you’re not a ‘take-back person’ at all, but instead that you are a silly clown who should only honk her nose more and more.” Ms. Hildebrand smirked at the woman who still lay on the ground, evidently unwilling to rise yet.

“Mnn…” Clownie muttered. “Clownie wants… Is not sure…” She pursed her lips and smiled to settle her nerves. Smiling always helped Clownie to think when she really needed to… Not that she normally needed to think. After all, she’d much rather honk her horn…

The woman found herself raising her hand to her nose once more, her fingers quivering as she placed them around the round ball. It was an addiction she couldn’t bear to crack; a temptation she couldn’t resist.

“Hoooonk…” She moaned desirously in imitation of her object of desire, trying to stave off the temptation by making the sound herself. But it was no use; her pale imitation only made her crave a sweet clownish release even more.

So it was that the last of Clownie’s resistance crumbled, and she squeezed her nose hard, a loud and silly honk filling the air and pleasure beyond pleasure filling her body. A loud cry pieced the air, and it took her an embarrassingly long few minutes to realize that it was the sound of her own voice, screaming with pleasure.

“Clownie loves honk! Clownie loves honk!” She moaned loudly, squeezing her nose again and again, a near-orgasmic pleasure filling her world. The woman lost all sense of self, her mind completely blank; a dazed smile on her face.

As her words seemed to echo around the house, a sudden sensation gripped her body. It was like she was being forced through a funnel, her body being compressed to fit a much tinier form. A loud and husky breath escaped Clownie’s lips as she began to shrink, the air forced from lungs that were feeling oddly stiff.

Actually, her whole body felt unusually rigid, like it was getting harder and harder to move herself. Clownie felt an unusual pang of fear settle into her heart, warranting another squeeze of her nose to calm herself.

Another loud honk filled the air, and Clownie felt an immediate rush of relief flow through her, even though she was shrinking more. If she kept getting small like this, she’d be a perfectly silly toy… And that wouldn’t be that bad, would it? No, of course it wouldn’t be! Right?

Just in case, Clownie looked at the old woman who now towered over her. “C-Clownie feels hard.” She said, adding in a “honk” for good measure.

“Oh, of course you do. You’re becoming a wonderful little toy.” Ms. Hildebrand smiled down at her, grinning happily.

“Oh. Clownie gonna be a dolly?” Clownie giggled, honking her nose again and looking at the impressive figures around herself, wondering if they all used to be not-toys. As she did, she shrank even smaller; barely a foot tall. The whole world was so large around her, and she quavered slightly at the enormity of the woman above her.

“Well, of course.” Ms. Hildebrand chuckled ruefully, picking up the shrunken toy. “I think that you’ll be just perfect as a jester for my little toy soldiers… Those ‘officers’ that thought to evict me from my house.”

“Oooh.” Clownie flushed, honking her nose again and shivering as her whole body went numb, skin transforming to a soft plastic. It was so hard to move, so hard to think; all she wanted to do was keep squeezing her nose, but try as she might her hands were unmoving; fixed in place.

She whimpered in distress, the last sound from her lungs before they simply disappeared. Clownie began to panic as she realized that her organs were all vanishing one by one, leaving her oddly hollow. Then a shudder ran through her form, her bones expanding and changing to make metal supports and gears inside of her body.

“Oh! And I almost forgot the most important touch.” Ms. Hildebrand smiled at her hapless victim, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small and metal key.

Clownie stared at it with wide eyes, feeling her little mechanical heart racing at the thought of what would happen to her. Then she was turned over, her back facing the ceiling, and Clownie could no longer see the key—her key.

But though she couldn’t see it, that certainly didn’t mean that she couldn’t feel it. Ms. Hildebrand pressed the key hard into Clownie’s back, which responded by opening a small and perfect hole that connected straight to Clownie’s heart.

A loud clicking shook Clownie’s world, and she quavered with distress at the feeling of something in her body beginning to give way. She wasn’t herself, she was… She was a slave to this mechanical key, a silly clown whose heart thumped to its whims.

Then Ms. Hildebrand gripped the key in her hands and twisted. A ratcheting sound echoed throughout Clownie’s body, and she shivered as she could feel her body getting wound up. It was like there was a pent-up urge she was experiencing, but couldn’t quite sate—like needing to scratch your feet when you’re wearing boots.

It only got worse as the old woman wound her tighter and tighter, making her so tense and ready to… To… She didn’t know! She only wanted to obey the key! She needed—needed!

Ms. Hildebrand set Clownie upright on a table and let go of the key, and Clownie sprung into action.

“Hyuk hyuk, I’m Clownie! Honk!” A tinny voice emerged from her throat, and she followed her statement with a squeeze of her nose, a loud and familiar honk filling the air. Her legs began to move too, and she staggered drunkenly forward, walking in the silliest way possible.

Her thickly-painted lips were forced open as she smiled against her will, the widest smile of her life. And the greatest pleasure she’d felt yet coursed through her body, setting Clownie awash with sensation, losing what little remained of her mind.

“Hyuk hyuk, I’m Clownie! Honk!” Honk. “Hyuk hyuk, I’m Clownie! Honk!” Honk.

Her whole world devolved to that silly statement and the drunken stagger she now called her own. Connie Clearwater was gone forever, replaced with a silly clown doll named Clownie. Stiff, enslaved by a key, forever staring forward with a goofy smile on her face just beneath a ball-nose… She was a toy, forever.