The Skirt Suit

Jessica closed her eyes, and she could almost feel him around her again…

She had walked shakily into the room she shared with her husband David.  With each step she asked herself if she was making the right decision; a meek voice in the back of her head told her that she was overreacting, that she didn’t need to take things this far, that she could tolerate him for a while longer and that maybe he would change on his own.  But another voice, one attempting to be brave and assertive but still fairly meek, insisted that it was time.  She had compromised and submitted and given up so much of the woman she had once been to David, no matter how much the abuse grew, and he would continue taking until nothing was left.  It was time.

As she approached the bed where they slept, Jessica noticed her trembling hands and her irregular breaths.  She marveled at how thoroughly she had allowed herself to be conditioned to fear him and to bow down to him.  She was more powerful than he could possibly imagine, and yet she had allowed herself to be broken by him.  In a way, she had to accept her share of the blame…but it was time to change things.

She leaned over him and felt the magic flow to her fingertips; the power surged out as if spraying from a fire hydrant.  She had not used her magic in so long, and the force was so great that she gasped involuntarily.  The sound woke David; he turned towards her and for a moment his eyes flashed in surprise before narrowing in rage at having been disturbed.

Jessica had hoped to transform him while he was asleep; she had been afraid that if he fixed those hateful eyes on her she would lose all her resolve.  But in that moment all emotion vanished from her; it was as if the magic itself took over.  She touched him with the tips of her fingers, and the miniscule fraction of her energy that leapt to his body was enough to freeze him in place.

“David,” she stated.  She spoke not in the frightened, apologetic whisper of an abused woman or with the contemptuous sneer of someone getting revenge, but with the serene calm of a witch infinitely greater than the man she stood over.  “I won’t accept you hurting me anymore.  I have myself to blame for allowing you to control me for as long as you have.  But no I am taking control back.”  She gazed down into his face; she saw nothing except loathing and hatred etched into his face.  That face…she did not want to look down onto that face while she did her work.  So she reached down and peeled it off.

A featureless mask was now attached to David’s head, and his face flopped about in her hands.  She casually squeezed her face in her hands and the features dissolved as the face kneaded about like putty in her hands.  She carefully formed a series of baubles out of the putty, all linked together, and allowed the energy in her hands to turn them white and harden them.  She was now holding a pearl necklace.  She put the necklace down on the dresser so David could watch her continue her work.

She caressed his right arm, the arm that she had allowed to harm her so many times.  She gently pulled it by the shoulder and it popped out.  She did the same thing with his left arm.  She playfully twisted the arms against each other until they melded together, then molded the resulting mass into a crisp grey business jacket.

She took off his feet, hollowed them out, and made herself a pretty pair of black heels.  She reached for her legs when it occurred to her that she hadn’t made plans for what to do with his penis.  She detached it and rolled it into a ball in her hands as she stated at it amusedly.  Part of her wanted to make it a hot dog and eat it, or simply throw it away, but the witch in her thought it unbecoming to use the penis for something separate from the rest of the body.  She settled for making it into a tube of her favorite lipstick.

She returned her attention to his legs.  She pulled his body in half and began her work on them; she needed to weave a fair amount of her magic into his lower extremities to shrink them significantly and made herself a knee-length skirt to match her jacket.  Finally, she fashioned the head and torso into a pretty white blouse to complete the ensemble.

It took an hour in all, but she was satisfied.  She organized her outfit neatly on the bed.  She thought about gloating to her former husband about how he had been beaten, but she realized there was no point.  What was on the bed was merely a skirt suit.

The interview she wore David to the next week went well, and she found herself an exciting new job.  That night, she cleaned and ironed David’s pieces to put away when a thought struck her; she didn’t really want to keep him.  It had been pleasurable to wear him for the day, but she was ready to move on from him entirely.  It was time for him to go.

She could have returned him to his human form of course.  She suspected he had learned his lesson; she could feel the shame and fear burning in every ounce of his inanimate body.  But she could feel a twinge of spite and indignation in him still, and even though he would certainly never harm her again he could not be trusted not to harm any other woman.  But even besides that…she did not want to restore him again.  She simply felt he belonged as a skirt suit.  So she turned to ebay.

She probably could have gotten more money selling him as a completed outfit, but it was more fun to sell him piece by piece.  Piece by piece women from across the country bid on his piece, and earned the right to own a part of the former abuser.  His blouse, jacket and skirt were folded into boxes and shipped away, and the shoes quickly followed.   The necklace, being most valuable, went last since she gave it a longer auction time.  That was for the best though, since it meant she got to smile in into his eyes before lowering his “face” into a box, sealing and stamping it, and sending it on its way.  She kept the lipstick though; she didn’t think it would sell, and keeping that part of him somehow still felt satisfying.

As time went on, David’s mind split apart.  When his entire form had been in Jessica’s possession he had been humiliated and afraid, but he had been able to think about the situation; he had imagined himself assuring her that he had learned his lesson, then beating her head in once her guard was down.  But once the box containing his necklace face was opened and he saw a strange woman smiling down at him, his world began to lose all meaning.  He could feel the different pieces of his body being put on and taken off with no comprehension as to what was happening, and his brain imploded from the incomprehensible information he could not stop his senses taken in.  The pleasant sensation of his pieces being gently cared for by their meticulous owners only served to drive him deeper in insanity.  Combined with the crushing hopelessness that came from realizing that he would never be reformed, David became lost to his agony and madness.  The ladies who decorated themselves with his pieces would never realize the misery within their possessions.

She could still feel his pieces, and she could feel his soul lost and destroyed as his different elements all sat in different closets and drawers, occasionally donning five different women.  Sometimes, if she closed her eyes and concentrated, she could almost feel his entire form back with her…then she would open her eyes and realize that they were gone and out of her life forever.

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