Devil's Hotline

"Hello..?"

Beth answered the unknown number further out of surprise than she did curiosity. An instinctual reflex she didn't even know she had, but when nearly all of the calls she ever received were from her mother or father, it had become a habit to pick up the phone before the second ring--in case a particularly grumpy parent was searching for any excuse to find fault in her.

"Bethany Miller?" The voice coming across her phone's speaker was deep, smooth, but oddly harsh. It was like running a stick through the pebbles washed up near a lake. Hearing her name spoken out by this unknown voice sent a chill down her lithe frame.

"W-who's asking?" She stuttered. Beth was sitting on her bed, smooth legs hidden under the plain white sheets and comforter of her childhood room -- a room that would soon become nothing more than a memory once her parents dropped her off at college come the weekend.

Her back rested against the headboard and her laptop was shut on top of her. Her phone, covered in pink and blue and purple decor, was pressed lightly against her ear where tufts of heavy brown curls swallowed it and the first few inches of her thin hand.

"...A friend." The voice said after a beat. "Simply responding to you inquiry, my dear."

"I didn't..." Beth paused, heart dropping in her chest down to the pits of her flat belly. Her pale skin somehow grew paler as she recalled the events of the last few hours.

Beth started her night hopping into bed and sliding her laptop open over her thighs. She had been a nervous wreck the last few weeks since graduation and her 18th birthday soon after had only served to make her feel all the more uneasy. She was an adult heading off to a school she didn't know she deserved to be in. Yes, her grades were the highest in her year. Yet, aside from academics, she had done nothing to earn her spot. No volunteer work. No extracurriculars. She had always been too nervous for those. Too socially awkward. Too worried she would make a fool of herself. Too certain she would be a disappointment.

It was all because of her parents. Everyone knew them around town. The it couple. Confident, rich, and seemingly living the perfect life. All except for their daughter. The bright, but ever so plain Bethany. All the privilege in the world, but Beth had never taken advantage of it. Until now, against her will as it was. She knew her parents were eager to see her off to college. They didn't hate her. She was almost sure of it. But they had made it a point throughout Beth's life that she needed to do more. To be more. Beth had simply wanted to go to a local college, stay at home, get her degree, and then maybe move out to the city once she got a job. It was her mother that pushed her to apply to the best schools within driving distance. One of which she knew would never accept her. That was the whole reason she applied to it. To satisfy her mom, all while knowing that her chances of getting in were literally zero.

Except they weren't. And when influential people pulled influential strings, anything was possible. She had gotten in. Ivy League. Yale. A pipe dream become reality.

So on this night, Beth had finally allowed herself to truly wallow in self-pity. It was her night to take time for herself and enjoy the quiet comforts of the life she so desperately was not ready to let go of. She was supposed to have spent it watching a nice documentary or some white-trash television. Instead, she'd gone down a rabbit hole that she had never truly bothered with before. She hadn't had a reason to change, or any need to want to change. She had always been comfortable. Dissatisfied, perhaps, but comfortable nonetheless.

Now, however, she wondered if she was capable of change. Not of what that change would look like. Just if she was even able to accomplish it. New school. New town. New me. What would it take? So she searched online. It turned to be more than she expected. Mindset changes. Body changes. Diet changes. It was a lot. Too much to handle. So rather than finding the right ways, she pushed further down the rabbit hole and started looking for the quick ways. Surgery, cheats, hacks. Those proved even more worrisome, or blatantly false.

But none more an obvious scam than a banner ad she saw appear on a particularly dodgy website she happened to be skimming an article from. It was black and red, and a an animated figure of a winking devil was staring at her. Beside it, a small text bubble read: "Become the real you. First deal free of charge!" She had hovered her mouse over it, tracing the little smirk on the devil's face with her cursor when, by accident, she clicked and the ad opened a new tab in her browser. A tab that never loaded, according to her memory. She had closed it immediately and shut her laptop right after.

"You did." The voice affirmed, and Beth couldn't help but feel that he was right.

"I don't know you are. And I don't have friends. You have the wrong number, sorry."

"Stay on the line. Humor me, won't you, dear Bethany?"

"Ok..." Her eyes widened, dark brown and practically yelling at her for being an idiot. Why did she agree? She didn't want to talk this person. She wanted to hang up, but she couldn't.

"Good girl." He snickered, airy and oddly sultry. "Bethany, it's my job to answer any and all inquiries that come our way. I'm a bit of a salesman, you see. I know, I know. What's worse than a salesman besides lawyers... and devils, perhaps. But hear me out, will you?"

"Ok..."

"Good girl. You clicked on our ad and filled out the survey, yes?"

"I didn't-"

"You did."

"I did."

"Good girl."

She could practically hear the smile spreading on this "salesman's" lips. But, all of sudden, she recalled bits and pieces. Flashes in her mind of filling out a document on a black and red website, but she was unable to remember what it was she was filling.

"Well, whenever a prospective customer show's interest, that application is sent to someone like myself and I'm instructed to make sure we provide that client with the best possible service to match her needs." He continued. "And you seem to have plenty of needs, Bethany, if I may be so bold to say."

"I don't-"

"You do."

"I do."

"Good girl. Now, trust me here, darling. I'm certain you've got your doubts, and we would never want to provide a deal that didn't completely satisfy your every wish. So, as a show of good... faith, allow me to extend a special one-time offer."

Beth's phone chimed with the familiar -- if not-so-often heard -- ring of a text message. She jumped at the sound, pulling the phone away from her ear and setting it to speaker phone without even thinking.

"Open that up and answer honestly, Bethany."

She did as told, some odd mix of curiosity, fear, and an unknown force egging her on. The message was simple. It read: "What would you say you lack the most? (A) Beauty. (B) Intelligence. (C) Personality.

It was an easy question to answer. Of the three, she knew she did not lack intelligence. Smartest in her grade. It was, in some way, the only praise-worthy thing about her. Personality, she lacked, sorely. She had poor social skills, and years of friendless solitude meant she had never cultivated the skills necessary to make any friends. But admitting that fact was still beyond her. It felt quite sad, actually. So she decided to stick to the obvious answer.

Beauty. It wasn't that she had none. Her skin was a little dry, and she had a few acne scars. But her features and symmetry were alright. Nothing too big or too small. If she had any idea how to put on makeup, she figured she wouldn't be completely gross to the opposite sex. And her body, while relatively flat and and in no way fit aside from being thin, had enough shape to it to tell that she was a woman. Still, she wasn't cute. She wasn't pretty. She damn sure wasn't beautiful. So, she typed "A" and almost immediately heard a satisfied hum coming from her phone's speaker.

"Good girl. That's my specialty, you know? A match made in... heaven." The voice mumbled a phew incomprehensible things before speaking up once more as another message appeared on her phone. It was a link to a fillable PDF.

"Those are the details to your contract. We have all of the information necessary from the application you completed, so if you would be so kind as to sign and initial where prompted, we'll be able to wrap up here."

Alarm bells started ringing in her head right as she moved to open the link, stopping just in time. "W-wait, wait, wait! What am I-"

"Signing? Darling, it's the contract you requested. Don't worry, I assure you that the new customer deal is active. The first deal is completely free of charge. So sit back, relax, and enjoy yourself. I'm sure we'll speak again in no time once you've seen how good of a service we deliver. This is a very exclusive client list you've found yourself on, Bethany. But the offer won't last forever. So let's wrap it now, yes?"

It wasn't convincing whatsoever. A mysterious salesman telling her to sign a contract that supposedly came free of charge and all she knew about it was that it was something to do with beauty. A make up scam, perhaps? Some pyramid scheme that would lock her into buying tons of product she'll either never sell or have to pawn off to someone else? Every fiber of her logical mind was telling her to hang up. It was the smart thing to do, and she was supposed to be the smartest. Yet, she didn't hang up. She opened the link, and all that came to mind as she flipped through the pages and pages of endless scribble were a few of the words this man had spoken to her. Exclusive. Beauty. Good girl...

She blinked and a green check mark appeared on her screen, sealing the PDF document as it closed and sent her back to the text message screen she had opened it from.

"Amazing! Bethany, you have my number. Feel free to give me a call directly if you ever have any questions or further inquiries for new services. If I'm not available you will be directed to our excellent customer service team who will be happy to take a message or direct you to another one of our outstanding agents. Do you have any other questions for me at this time?"

"Y-yes-"

"Do you?"

"No."

"Good girl. Now, since you're all set and have no further questions, you have yourself an excellent evening, Beth. Make sure to get a very good night's rest. Bye, bye!"

The phone clicked and the call disconnected. Beth sat there, phone in hand, her mind whirling with everything that had just happened. Seconds soon turned to minutes, and after a whole half hour of sitting in silence, Beth felt her eyes grow heavy. She slumped against her headboard and slid, head landing on one of her plush pillows.

Then darkness, and dreams of red and black.

------

Beth awoke with a flutter of her dark lashes. The curtains blocked enough of the direct sunlight that her eyes didn't burn and tear up, but she squinted nonetheless as she adjusted to her now brighter surroundings. She slept wonderfully. Deeper and more intact than she could recall. Normally, she woke up with dull pains in her body, and groggy as could be. But this morning had proven the exact opposite. She was refreshed and didn't feel a single ache in her bones or body. Even the perfectly straight, long, black hair atop her head felt strangely neat...

Black? Straight? Long? Beth sat up quickly, catching her head in her hands as she felt a sudden dizziness overcome her, though it was quick to dissipate. Once it had, she slid out of bed and half-sprinted to the connected bathroom with fewer strides than ever before. Inside, the burdensome full-length mirror her mother had set up in there years ago now served as a godsend as she stared into it with incredulity.

It was her, sort of. She looked a bit more like her mother, but her hair was black like her father's. And her eyes were green like her mother's. She was younger, obviously, than her mother. Her skin was tight, soft, and flawless. No acne scares, and only a little beauty mark beneath her left eye. Her features were still clearly hers. Unremarkable in size, but now more rounded, less harsh, and incredibly delicate in appearance. Like someone had made a doll in her image and decide to add touches of femininity and beauty. Turning a girl into a woman. And a hot one at that.

Longer lashes, removal of the bags and dark circles around her eyes. Irises that sparkled green when the light caught in them. The slight crook in her nose was replaced with the perfectly straight bridge her mother had. Her lips were plump and wouldn't stop pouting, until she realized she wasn't pouting. They just had that shape to them, alluring and inviting.

She was taller too. Not by much. 5'3 had turned into 5'6, perhaps, and it all had seemingly gone to her legs. They were long, lithe, but perfectly thick exactly where they needed to be. She turned to see herself at a profile, the rear that appeared was most definitely not her own. Except it was. Voluptuous, heart-shaped, and toned. In fact, her entire body was toned. Skinny not just from a poor diet, but from extreme physical fitness. Yet, she wasn't bulky. Her muscles were there, evident, and yet she looked and felt soft and plush. It made her think of those Instagram models that always seemed to have the perfect body in every photo they took. But she wasn't photo-shopped. She was simply perfect in real life, at any angle, at all times.

She was smooth as well. Hairless from the neck down, which was new for her. It wasn't that she didn't shave before, she just didn't shave well, or often enough. Now, she didn't even seem shaved. It was more like a wax, or laser removal. Smooth beyond smooth, and even slightly shiny. She attributed that to the tan she now sported. Not overly so, and not fake. She had a sun-kissed look to her, but there was no part of her that was more or less tanned, even her privates.

But it was her breasts that stunned her the most. Not huge. But clearly larger. Proportional, though perhaps still on the fuller side for her new frame. Perky D cups, which most didn't often get to say about D cups on a regular basis, but hers were certainly perky, almost to a gravity defying extent, but still clearly natural. Her waist was tight and small, and her hips flared and swayed seductively with every step, accompanied by her jiggling, firm ass.

"What the fuck..."

"Wakey, wakey, Beth! Everything's loaded already. We've got breakfast and then we're off, so get ready!" Her mom, Miranda Miller, yelled out to her from outside of her room -- a courtesy Beth wasn't used to receiving. "Beth?"

"Oh! R-right! Just getting changed!" Her voice, thankfully, still sounded like hers.

"Ok, sweetie! You've got 15 minutes!"

Beth heard her mother's clicking footsteps drift away, and only after they were gone did she finally let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding. It was too much. Far, far too much to take in at once. Not only was she nearly a stranger to herself in appearance, but her mother called her sweetie too? And her parents were waiting on her? What was loaded? It almost seemed like what she imagined her move out day could be like, but that was still days away...

Her eyes widened. If she had completely changed her body, who was to say other impossible things couldn't happen just like...

She found her phone, still pink and blue and purple, and tapped it awake. The date was the first thing she saw. Her move-out date. "No, no, no, no, no... This can't be real..."

Her eyes flicked down and she had not one, not two, but 74 unread messages. Hands shaking, she sat on the bed and flipped through her phone. Dozens of people wishing her farewell. People she knew, but didn't know. Schoolmates, but no one she would call a friend. Yet, they were sending just about every heart and kiss emoji she could imagine, and even some she didn't know existed.

And one more message, from an unknown number. "Good luck," it read. All the messages from the night before were gone, including the link to the PDF contract. Beth, she knew, was screwed.

------

"Beth, honey, can you set the table please?"

Beth had just come downstairs. Her home looked exactly the same, as did her mother. Beth's wardrobe, unfortunately, had suffered a different fate. There were more colors and less fabric all around, and the prepared outfit she found in her half-empty closet was the epitome of that style. She did, however, admit that it was full of style. A silk buttoned top, cropped slightly to reveal just a hint of her toned midriff, dark as her loosely styled hair -- which Beth had done little more than comb through with her fingers, yet held perfect shape and volume. She had a layered skirt, black, with a rougher, woolen texture to it. It held shimmering sparkles and white-flower accents as the buttons on the front side. The skirt was no longer than her mid-thigh and just below them, thigh-high semi-sheer black stockings extended down her calves and to a pair of gold-chrome heels. Over her shoulder, a similar gold purse had her phone stuffed into it as she looked over to her mom.

"Oh, uh, yeah sure." Beth walked gracefully over to the cupboards where the regular dinnerware was held, strength and steadiness in her ankles that she had never experienced before in heels. Reaching up to the cupboard was also much easier with her added height in both her body and footwear.

Beth set the table like usual -- on the rare times she was forced to eat downstairs -- and was happy to see her mother was satisfied with the arrangement. Her father at the head. Her mother to his left. And herself to his right.

"Where's dad?" Beth hadn't taken 15 minutes. She'd spent 45 minutes alone staring down her outfit and wondering what kind of sick prank was being played on her. And then another 30 looking at herself in the mirror once she'd actually put the clothes on, wondering what kind of God she had pleased to gift her that body. It only occurred to her now that her mother had fully expected her daughter to take at least that long getting ready. And it was just the other day that her mom had yelled at her for taking an extra couple of minutes in the shower and making them wait on her for a dinner they had attended. It was boggling her mind.

"He's just making sure everything is ready. I believe he has something... special planned for you, sweetie." Miranda smiled at Beth, a smile Beth had never seen before. There was a glint of pride in her eyes, adoration even.

Love.

"Special?" Beth repeated, titling her head and scrunching up her shaped brows unaware of how adorable it made her look.

Her mother giggled... Giggled! And walked up to Beth, putting a soothing hand on her slim shoulder. "A gift, Beth. You know how your father spoils you."

"Do I? Don't be jealous, Miranda." A masculine voice entered the dinning room, making both women turn. Beth caught the mischievous look in her father's eye, another first for her, and found herself tracing his line of sight back to Miranda just as a small smirk formed on her mother's lips.

"A perfect daughter deserves a perfect life, Daniel. I'm only jealous my husband isn't as perfect as she is."

"Oh, is that right? Well, I probably shouldn't be around when your husband gets here, unless you like that sort of thing..."

"EW!!!" Beth screamed, stepping away from both of them as the pair laughed together. Her parents, openly flirting in front of her. What sort of twisted nightmare was she stuck in? "I'm going to gag..."

"Honey, relax. Your father is just teasing."

"I could do without it, please."

"It's a perfectly healthy thing to do in a relationship, Beth. It's truly something to be proud of." Daniel spoke up.

"No thanks."

"Right, well, shall we eat?" Her father stepped to them and pulled out the seat for Beth, as well as his own.