Rhodora’s House

Part 1: Doug’s Story

                The woman was not beautiful.  In fact, there really was nothing extraordinary about her in the least.  But when her soft, understanding eyes met mine, I knew, for the first time ever, it was time to go up to a complete stranger and introduce myself.

            And, instead of the expected cold shoulder, she looked grateful for my attempt at connecting, and we fell into conversation like old friends.  She had been sitting at a café in one of those swiftly-disappearing bookstores, and the hours we spent passed so quickly that the ‘store closing’ announcement shocked me.

            We walked down the moonlit street, and, listening to her voice, I knew I had found the woman I wanted to be with for the rest of my life.  This chance bookstore encounter soon led to a string of dates over the weeks that only strengthened my conviction that she was the one.

            And then one night, at a neighborhood park, I proposed.

            “Oh, Doug, you don’t understand, I’m not the marrying type,” she laughed.

            Great, she was one of those women who didn’t believe in marriage.  It wasn’t what I expected of her.  She seemed like the girl-next-door type – bright, traditional – the kind of girl who could love me for whom I was.  She obviously picked up on my feelings, because, after studying me for a long moment, she whispered, “I think it’s about time you should come to my house.”

            I stared at her, uncomprehending.  “Why?”

            “I think what you really want is there.”

            “What I really want is to be with you,” I cried, exasperated.

            “And you can be, if you choose it.”   Quickly, she walked away, not looking to see if I was following.

            I sprinted after her.  “Wait!  Where are you going?”

            She did not slow down, nor did she turn around.  “To my house.  It’s around the corner from here, you know that.”

            Without another word (I was too out of breath anyway), I followed her to the doorstep of a small 1920s ranch.  It was neatly kempt, with rows of flowers and bushes surrounding it.

            “This is my house,” she announced, pausing at the front door.  Her eyes shone, an adoring look on her face.  If this expression was meant for me, then why wouldn’t she even consider my proposal?  “I love you very much, Doug.”

            Stymied, I gaped at her.  “And I love you. That’s why I want to marry you.”

            She shook her head, laughing joyfully, “No, don’t you understand?  What we can have is loads better than marriage!”

            “What could be better than marriage?” I asked, almost angrily.

            She threw open the front door and flicked on the lights.  A normal, everyday room met my eyes, and she jumped up excitedly.  “I’m home!” she proclaimed as she stepped in, but no one answered.

            Remaining on the porch, I asked suspiciously, “Do you have a roommate?”  She never had mentioned one.  I was sure of it.  Was she keeping something from me?

            Her gaze fell to a large dining room table.  “Oh, I have many,” she answered secretively.

            I was growing increasingly impatient, and I turned to go.  “Rhodora, if you don’t tell me what—”

            “You want to be changed,” she whispered.

            I flipped around, in shock.  “Well…I…”

            “I like that too.”

            I walked inside, slowly closing the door behind me.  “How do you…”

            “I don’t share this with anyone except the ones I truly love, the ones that want to be with me…”

            “What are you talking about, Rhod?”

            Rhodora approached the table she had been looking at.  It was finely crafted of a perfect cherry wood, its legs beautifully inscribed with ornate scrollwork.  She drew her hand across its shiny surface, and the table shuddered.  Yes, it visibly shuddered.

            “Tommy,” she purred, and began to rub her hands up and down one of the legs.

            And the table moaned. 

            My mouth fell open.  “That sound was you, right?”

            The secretive smile on her face irked me.  “It feels good to be touched when you’re an object.  Especially when you’re newly transformed,” she uttered.

            I didn’t think my mouth could open any wider, but it did.  “Uh, you’re telling me that table’s a person?  If that were even possible, why would it feel anything?”

            “Oh, Tommy’s in the form of a table, but his soul is still there.  And it feels, and sees, and hears—”

            “And speaks.”  There was a face on the table, and it moved.  It spoke.

            I staggered back in fear and amazement.  “Oh, holy shit.  Shit.”  I always enjoyed sci-fi and fantasy, and the idea of transformation always fascinated me.  But it was scientifically impossible.  Everyone knew that.

            “Tommy, it wasn’t quite time yet,” Rhodora tapped the table playfully.

            “Oh, it was close enough.  Honey, rub me more… It’s so nice…”

            Rhodora continued to stroke the piece of furniture as I watched, simply unable to fabricate a sentence.  I didn’t know whether to be disgusted or upset at this odd display.  Finally the table spoke to me.  “So, anything to say?”

            “Uh…does it hurt?” I uttered weakly, now trying to avert my eyes from the impossibility before me.

            “Does it hurt, guys?” the table yelled.

            Several objects in the room laughed.

            “Hurt!  My God, you’ve never imagined…” a bench burst out in glee.

            “It’s better than the best sexual experience you’ve ever had!” cried a flowerpot.

            Rhodora stood up and walked towards me.  “My guys  –  I love them all!  We have such a wonderful life together, and we’re so happy…”

            “Are they trapped?” I whimpered.

            “Trapped?  No, they chose this, and they can leave whenever they want…although, well, how many guys have actually left?”

            “Only two,” said Tommy.  “Jeff, because he only wanted a week’s vacation as a bird, and Max, who wanted to be changed but he didn’t want his wife to know.”

            “He was a garden hose.”

            “Why?” I gasped.  Just the fact that I was asking this worried me.

            “Feels good, the water going through you, and you’re long, and—”

            A picture frame cut off the vase that was speaking, “You should try being a sprinkler if you enjoyed when you were a hose.”

            “Sounds like a plan.”

            Tommy the Table cut back in.  “Everyone has different forms they favor.  I like being furniture – I love growing into large objects.  But sometimes I’ll be things Rhodora needs.  She lost her brush the other day, so I volunteered.  Burrowing into that hair, my bristles making it shine, oh, it was wonderful.”

            Rhodora blushed.  “I turn them into whatever they want whenever they want to.  I do it out of love.  Sometimes I change myself too and join them.  I was growing over in Jake there for a while.”

            “She was pretty as a flower,” said the flowerpot.  “Maybe you can turn me into a plant at some point, Rhodora.  I might enjoy that.”

            “Whenever you want, Jake.  But right now, let’s see what Doug here wants.  Would you like to join us, Doug?”

            I stared at the collection of living household items and a strange curiosity overtook me. This was real!  It really, undeniably was!   At first it seemed a depressing fate, being stuck in the form of a household object, owned by the woman you loved.  But if I could be with her always, used by her as I wished, perhaps this was better than marriage.  I could go back to my old life whenever I preferred…

            …If I ever preferred…

            “What do you need?” I pushed out, somewhat surprised at myself.

            Rhodora’s face lit up.  “You’ll join us, really?”

            I hesitated.  “It really doesn’t hurt?  And you’ll change me back if I don’t like it?”

            “I doubt you won’t like it, but yes.  I only do this for the people who want it.  You can walk out the door right now if you want, and we can continue to be friends.”

            Friends.  The word stung me, and I knew I could never be ‘just friends’ with this powerful, wonderful woman.  Rhodora, whatever she was, could change matter at whim, and I wanted to be with her.  I wanted to help her, to make her life better.  “What do you want me to be?” I asked.

            “Whatever you want!” she cried giddily.  “We need a nice change for you.  You always remember that first transformation the best!” Regarding the room, her gaze fell back to where it had started from – the table known as Tommy.  “Tommy, would you like a few chairs, so you’ll be a proper dining set?”

            Tommy chuckled.  “That would be great.  Doug, would you like to start us off?”

            I wanted this…I needed this… But a chair?  Yet I would be her chair…“Okay, but do it fast.”  I closed my eyes and held my breath.

            Rhodora sashayed over to me and traced her finger down my arm.  “No, darling Doug, you want it slow.  The act of transforming…it’s immensely pleasurable.  Please enjoy it.”  She focused on me, and my body began to tingle.  The feeling grew stronger, running through me from the ends of my fingers to the tips of my toes.  I gasped in delight as a feeling I could only describe as erotic encompassed my body, and I desperately fought the urge to touch myself.  I grunted as my body grew stiff, and, at Rhodora’s command, my arms reached out and froze there, my fingers melding together and my hands turning down.  Chair arms!  I’m really changing!  my mind cried out victoriously.  I was shrinking and being forced into a crouching position as my feet contracted into my thinning legs.  Two more legs grew out of my backside as my thighs melded together to form my seat.  The urge to touch myself was overpowering, but there was nothing I could do as I saw and felt my arms obtaining a wood-grain pattern.  I’m turning into wood! And it feels amazing!

            It was true  –  there was no pain as my torso and head formed into a chair back.  And Rhodora must have read my thoughts, for she murmured, “Let me help you,” as she began to stroke me where my manhood once had been.  I shuddered and moaned in ecstasy both from her ministrations as well as the immense pleasure of my whole form toughening into wood.  “Thank you, thank you!” I groaned, and with the most explosive release I have ever felt, my transformation was complete.

            And yet, the feeling of euphoria had not left.  “Don’t stop, Rhodora.  Please,” I gasped.  My wooden legs rocked back and forth on the floor as I was overwhelmed by the bliss of my new form. 

            “See, didn’t hurt!” someone that sounded like flowerpot-man yelled genially.

            I could only moan in response. 

            “Enjoy, my dear, enjoy,” Rhodora was almost crying from happiness.  “I am so happy I can give this to you, darling Doug.”  She outlined the scrollwork on my back with her finger.  “You turned out so beautifully.  Are you happy?”

            “Oh, Rhodora…happy is not the word.”  She ran her hands up and down each of my legs, and her very touch sent shivers through my hardened form.  Then she began to push her palms across my seat and up my back, then down to my back legs… “My God!  Leave me this way!  Please!  It’s wonderful!” I burst out, and the other objects tittered.

            “You think that’s good?  Be her nightgown for a night,” someone said.

            “Or her pillow!”

            I could only watch this goddess as she did all she could to make me feel good.  And I needed her to use me.  Now.  “Sit on me, Rhodora.  Please.”

            The feel of her body relaxing into my stiff form turned me on to no end.  I surrounded her with my strong wooden back and arms and caressed her with my seat.  She giggled.  “I feel you quivering a bit, Doug.  It’s quite the turn-on!”  She pushed her hands up and down my arms, then turned around and ran her tongue up my back.

            I was in heaven, and it would only get better from here.  All the benefits of marriage, and none of the stress.  Maybe one day she could turn me into a necklace and wear me on her bare chest, or maybe she’d make me into a bathtub and lie in me naked…The possibilities were endless, and it didn’t matter.  Right now I was quite happy the way I was.

            And so was Rhodora.