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Song of the Dwarf

05/15/2021

Author's Note

I’ve been sitting on this story for some time. The character referenced in the title is one I first conceived of close to two decades ago and he is one I often regretted I never did more with. I hope that he will appear in future tales, but as with everything I write, inspiration is key.

“There’s fairy creatures in them trees!” The man dropped his tankard onto the counter with an audible thump, and wiped his mouth with the back of his tunic sleeve. “Always fomenting trouble and causing mischief. I tells you, we oughta march on that forest and annihilate every last one o’ them.”

I shook my head, sighed, and reached for my tankard, sipping the warm ale within. ‘If only he knew,’ I thought to myself, a smirk touching the corners of my lips.

“What say you, stranger?” the man asked, thumping the back of a meaty hand against my shoulder. “You look like you’ve seen a thing or two; you ever laid eyes on any fairy folk?”

I placed my tankard back on the bar and regarded the man, my smirk creasing into a frown. Weary from my travels, I hadn’t come to the tavern to make conversation. All I wanted was to drink my ale in peace and be left alone. These small town bumpkins were all the same. Go to the big city, and people ignore you; travel to the outlying villages and the townspeople all want you to regale them with tales of your grand adventures.

I sighed and peered up at him, tempted to tell him no, but I furrowed my brows and rested my hand on the pommel of my sword. “If you knew anything about fairies, you’d keep talk like that to yourself.”

“Oh, yeah?” He grinned, exchanging glances with a second tavern patron. “What makes you say that?”

“A dwarf once saved my life,” I said, retrieving my tankard for another sip.

“A dwarf?!” The stranger guffawed and slapped his knee as if I’d just said the funniest thing in the world. He held a hand about half way between his knee and his hip. “A wee little man about yea high saved your life?”

“Nah,” I replied, shaking my head and held a hand just above his bulging belly. “A wee little man about this high saved my life.”

“What he do, keep you from falling into a hole?” he asked, again erupting into a fit of uproarious laughter.

I gritted my teeth and glowered at the man. Fingering my blade, I contemplated removing his head from his shoulders. I’d killed men for less, but on this occasion, it just felt like too much work.

When I finished the last of the ale, I paused, savoring the lingering taste in my mouth, already wishing I had enough money for another drink, and turned to regard the man with a shake of my head. “He fought off some bandits.”

“Bandits?” a third man asked. “Sounds like you have an interesting story to tell.”

See what I mean? Always with the stories.

I suppressed a groan, and despite my better judgement let them cajole me into sharing my tale.

# # #

Ten years ago I was as green as they came, but eager to leave my sheltered life in Imber, a village on the outskirts of the kingdom. I took my ash bow and my father’s sword and departed town with high hopes and dreams of fame and glory. There were no princesses for me to rescue or dragons to slay, so I took work lending a helping hand wherever I could for a spare bit of coin.

I never made a home for myself. No matter where I traveled or who I met, I felt an itch to move on, and so I never stayed in one place for more than a few weeks. About six months into my wanderings, I was traveling alone through the Eldar Woods and that is when it happened.

Times were tough and a weapon like mine was a rare prize. A sword of solid steel was often an indicator of great wealth, and could fetch a pretty penny almost anywhere. My father served in the local earl’s guard during the war and was awarded the weapon after saving the nobleman’s life in battle. When the war ended, the earl offered my father a place in his household, but weary from war, he returned home to the simple life of a farmer. As our village was nestled in an isolated valley in the mountains and self-sufficient by necessity, we’d never had need of monetary wealth and so the weapon sat within our home collecting dust, until I found it and took it for my own.

I wasn’t stupid enough to travel the woods after dark. While I knew bandits made them their home, I was young and naïve, convinced that a lone traveler would not be enough to draw their notice if I moved along the outskirts.

“Don’t move,” a voice said and I froze at the touch of cold steel kissing the back of my neck.

A man stepped out of the trees a few feet in front of me, a roguish smile stretched across his disheveled features. “Well met, stranger. Mighty dangerous territory to be traveling alone. Rumor is there are bandits in these woods.”

I clenched my jaw, but did not answer him, instead following his movements as he strolled toward me. The blade at my neck lifted away and I spun around to face the other bandit, reaching for my sword, but my as yet unseen captor beat me to it, sliding the weapon free before I could retrieve it.

I eyed this bandit, getting a good look at her, surprised to see that she was a woman. Though her voice was deep for a female, it was the cadence with which she spoke that had thrown me off. She slipped a dagger into her belt and held my sword before her, a smirk touching her lips.

“A well wrought blade,” she said, holding the flat of the weapon in her gloved palm. “I believe it’s much too good for the likes of you.”

“Oh, I agree,” the other bandit flashed a smile. “Peasant stock by the looks of him. Methinks we’ll do the rightful owner a bit of service and liberate this fine weapon from him. It’s the right thing to do.”

I had no illusions that the pair were lying through their teeth, but it was just the sort of game these types played, or at least it seemed in keeping with what I’d heard. Like I said, I was young and inexperienced.

“Now, the question remains, what do we do with our young friend?” the man asked, his face drawing back in a wicked grin. “Anyone willing to steal such a weapon is a menace to public safety. It would be downright unneighborly of us to–”

The man stopped mid-sentence, eyes scanning the trees just off to his right. I followed his gaze, but saw nothing. He returned his attention to me, cleared his throat and smiled. “As I was saying–”

Again, he stopped before he could finish, a loud thwack sounded somewhere behind him, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He fell to the ground in a heap, revealing a compact fellow with a beard so long it almost touched the forest floor. A loud wail escaped his lips and he clutched a long-handled battle-axe like a lute, gyrating about like a frenzied beast. He was broad-shouldered, more so than any man I’d seen, but only came up to my mid-chest.

“Good evening, the name’s Delek Stormwood.” He nodded to the pair of bandits, one arm windmilling in the air.

“Dun dun dun, durrrr dun durr dun. Dun dun dun, duh duh!” he called out at the top of his lungs singing the notes to some unknown tune.

The dwarf–for he was a dwarf; I’d heard descriptions of them and he fit the bill–paused, stopping just long enough to throw a thumb over his shoulder before continuing with his strange wild jerking movements. “Say, you haven’t seen Townshend or Daltrey lurking about, have you? We’d planned to meet up for a jam session.”

“What?!” my female captor asked, raising her blade and brandishing it at the intruder. “What are you talking about?”

The dwarf did not respond; instead, he continued to thrash about, blazing a trail toward the woman in a jagged and erratic path.

“Back away!” She raised her voice, holding the weapon before her as if to shield herself from him.

He seemed to pay no heed, arm spinning around, strumming the flat of the axe as if it were a musical instrument. It took him several long moments to get close to the woman, and she pounced when he was within a few feet. The dwarf dropped to his knees, sliding across the well-worn dirt path, and emitted a high-pitched wail; the bandit’s sword swung through the empty air without touching a single hair on the dwarf’s head. Before she could attack again, he jerked to his feet, swept sideways and slammed the haft of the axe into the side of her head. She went down and he paused, peering down at her.

“Huh.” He shrugged and turned to meet my gaze. “Some people just don’t appreciate good music. Never thought I’d meet someone who didn’t like Smoke on the Water.

“Well, I guess if the boys aren’t going to show, it’s time to be off.” The dwarf slung the axe over his shoulder, and walked into the trees.

I stood there for a moment, mind racing as I struggled to come to grips with what had just happened. I bent over, retrieved my weapon, and ran after the little man, but as I passed into the treeline, I could find no trace of him.

# # #

“To this day, I search for the dwarf every time I step inside the Eldar Woods,” I finished, regarding the empty ale tankard, wishing I could spare enough coin to purchase another.

The trio of townsmen stood around me, the leader regarding me with a frown. “You spin a fine tale, stranger, but methinks you’ve imbibed a few too many drinks. A woman outlaw—perish the thought!”

I did not respond, but slipped a hand about my waist, procured my coin purse and peered inside. Again, I considered purchasing another drink, but seeing how much remained within, I discarded the idea. What little remained would pay for some much-needed supplies. With an exaggerated sigh, I returned the pouch to my belt and shook my head.

Ready to retire for the night, I started to rise from my seat, but a man stepped into sight and I did a double take when he slipped into the vacant seat beside me. Though there was a fair bit more gray in his beard, the man’s image had been burned into my mind and I recognized him at once. So taken aback was I, I slid back into my seat.

“Be that as it may, he has provided us with an evening’s entertainment. I believe that’s at least worth another round of drinks. Whaddya say, boys?” The newcomer slapped a pair of coins down on the counter and motioned at the barkeep without waiting for the others to reply.

When the barkeep returned with a fresh set of drinks the bandit I’d encountered all those years ago in the forest nudged me in the shoulder and winked. “No hard feelings, eh?”

I nodded, fingered my blade to ensure he hadn’t somehow swiped it off my person, then snatched up my tankard and took a good long sip. Who was I to turn down a free drink?

###
The End

The Bureau

08/05/2017

When a bureaucratic mix-up results in a man losing his job, he heads straight to the Bureau of Identity Management to get things straightened out, but unfortunately for him the Bureau never acknowledges it’s made a mistake.

 

Author’s Note: This story doesn’t actually contain a transformation, but it’s pretty well inferred that one is coming for our poor narrator. This story more or less inspired by my deep dislike for bureaucracy and the headaches it causes.

“Sir, it clearly says here that you are female,” the woman said beaming at me with a smile so sickly-sweet that it made me want to puke.

“Do I look like a woman?”

Her smile lost just a little bit of its lustre. “I really can’t comment on your physical condition. If the form says you’re a woman, then as far as the bureau is concerned you are a woman.”

Dammit, I hated the Bureau of Identity Management! I tried to make my voice sound as calm and reasonable as I could manage. “There’s been some sort of mistake. I received a notice in the mail that my sex had been reclassified to female.”

“Oh, of course. Why didn’t you just say that to begin with?”

Bureaucrats! I shook my head and levelled my gaze on her. “I’ve been trying to for the last hour and a half!”

“One moment please. Let me take a look at your records. It says here that you submitted a request to have your gender reclassified.”

“That’s a mistake. I never submitted any request.”

“I’m afraid, sir, that the mistake is yours.”

“Yesterday, I got a notice from my employer that I’d been terminated. Apparently, they found it just a little suspicious that my sex didn’t match the government records! I’ve tried to be patient, but I’m at my wits end. Tell me how to fix this.”

She slipped a paper onto the desk and leaned in close. “You can try fighting this, but the bureau will never admit any wrong. You’re only other avenue will be to complete a 92-346B form requesting sex correction.”

I grabbed the paper and read it over. There was a whole lot of legalese, but it seemed to be exactly what I needed.

“Once you’ve completed the form you’ll need to take it to the Request Processing Division. I’ll transfer your name into the waiting queue.” She smiled pointing across the room.

“Do that.”

It took all of about ten minutes for me to finish filling out the form, but it took another thirty for them to finally call my name, again.

I walked up to the counter, slammed the paper down and let the girl on the other side do all the talking.

“Well, ma’am, it looks like everything here is in order. I’ll just need to see proof of identity.”

I whipped my id card out and waited quietly as she slid the form and the card into her scanner. “Thank you. It will be just a moment.”

“Really, it will be that fast?”

“Oh, no gene re-sequencing is a lengthy process. It will only a moment before you receive approval.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Why your request to have your physical sex corrected, of course! And look it’s been approved.”

“Wait, what? That can’t be right! You’ve made a mistake.”

“Oh no ma’am, the bureau doesn’t make mistakes. Have a nice day.”



The End

Comments, no matter the length, are very much appreciated. If you liked this story please take a minute to leave a review or even just to tell me you liked it. Criticism is welcome so long as it is constructive and I will gladly answer any personal messages or emails you want to send my way.

As my other stories this is a work of fiction and as such any resemblance to real life individuals, events or locations is purely unintentional. Only my own site, Fictionmania, Bigcloset Topshelf, & tgstorytime.com have permission to host this story and my previous works unless I state otherwise.

Of Princes and Princesses

07/29/2017

Two warring kingdom’s sit down to negotiate a peace, but as usual the talks never go anywhere. That is until, someone or something intervenes.

 

Author’s Note: This little piece is based off one of my earliest ideas for a TG story, even predating Virtually Twisted. Unfortunately, the original was just a little too ambitious for someone who, in those days, could barely pieces together a few hundred words a day.

 

I was a young scribe at the time in which the peace talks were being held. King Berdius, Ravan’s father, worn and tired from many years of war was eager to bring it to an end, but the righteous King Roland and son Magnus were angry over of the atrocities committed against their people and would make no concessions.

It was my opinion that the peace talks would break down as they always did and the long pointless feud between Gaman and Desperia would once again commence and lead us all to ruin, but then something remarkable happened. Prince Ravan collapsed to the ground, his body shifting and turning. As he slowly stripped the armor away from his body we watched his carefully sculpted biceps fade and wither away like leaves falling from a tree on an autumn afternoon.

It was not immediately apparent what was transpiring, but when the young prince ripped the shirt away from his chest to reveal the pair of budding breasts growing out from it, no one could have any doubt. To this day I have not seen a man show such terror as the Ravan did on his face nor have I entered a room that was so silent. We all watched the prince’s transformation in rapt fascination. In just a few moments, it was over, the young prince once all hard edges and angles became soft and voluptuous, the perfect image of feminine beauty.

No one could understand the cause, for none of us had ever witnessed the like before, but fortunately, or unfortunately, whatever the case may have been, it was the new Princess Ravan who provided the answer. She climbed to her feet, her breasts displayed proudly for all of us to see and began to speak in a melodic voice.

My mind has grown old and feeble in my advanced years and I cannot remember her exact choice of words, but she did explain to us that her transformation was, in fact, the work of the Goddess Tirsha. It was her will that Ravan and the illustrious Prince Magnus be married as equals in order to unite the two realms as one nation. It was the only way to end the war once and for all.

Naturally, this was debated to no end, but eventually it was agreed that Ravan’s change was an act of divinity and the new Princess Ravan and Magnus were married. After all who could argue with the will of a goddess? It was only years later that we understood the full truth of what had transpired that day, but by then it was too late and Ravan was already queen.

—An excerpt from the History of the Phinyl Realm by Evgard of the Silver Scroll



The End

Comments, no matter the length, are very much appreciated. If you liked this story please take a minute to leave a review or even just to tell me you liked it. Criticism is welcome so long as it is constructive and I will gladly answer any personal messages or emails you want to send my way.

As my other stories this is a work of fiction and as such any resemblance to real life individuals, events or locations is purely unintentional. Only my own site, Fictionmania, Bigcloset Topshelf, & tgstorytime.com have permission to host this story and my previous works unless I state otherwise.

Devil’s Due (Original)

07/22/2017

Beware of selling your soul to the devil she has a way of collecting her debts in unexpected ways.


Author’s Note:
Originally, this was supposed to be an entry in my Tales from Meridian universe, showing that it wasn’t just angels who went around swapping genders, but it didn’t quite seem like a fit so it wound up being a standalone. This was originally part of the anthology Irresistable, Kissable.

I was just laying down for the night when my bed erupted into flames and I screamed backing away from them as the voluptuous form of a dark-haired beauty appeared out of thin air. She was the epitome of the perfect woman, a real bombshell, who was a flawless stand-in for my wife.

“Hello honey, I’m home. Did you miss me?” She winked then smiled coyly.

“You’re not Jenny!” I screamed staring at her with wide eyes.

“On the contrary.” She smirked leaning over, giving me an amazing view of her cleavage. “I’ve been Jenny since the first moment we met.”

Twenty years ago to the day I sold my soul for a life of money and fame. I met Jenny just a few weeks afterward, but she was just a kid then. It wasn’t until she matured into a woman that our relationship took a romantic turn. After a whirlwind courtship we got married, but if what she said was true, it was a sham and had been all along. I couldn’t help but feel manipulated and betrayed.

“Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious? So that I could watch over you and guide you, but really that’s beside the point. Let’s not delay this any longer.”

“Just make it fast, please.” I pleaded, tears stinging my cheeks as I fought down my fear and panic. What would happen to me? Would she drain my soul away and leave me an empty husk or would I be doomed to spend eternity in hell? It had never been clear and somehow I’d never thought to ask. Until that moment it hadn’t mattered. How could I have been so stupid?

Lucifer cackled as the flames blazed across the mattress quickly climbing up my frame and started to consume me. I thought I was going to burn to death, but then the pain settled on my chest and different parts of my body, until it eventually faded away. I gasped running my hand over my torso, discovering as I did so that it had been transformed. Two luscious breasts had swelled on my chest but that was only one of many changes.

“I-I’m a woman,” I said with a loud gasp. “But why?”

“Your soul is mine. That means you are bound to serve me for all of eternity. I don’t waste resources, but sometimes they need a prettier wrapper to really bring out their true potential. I happen to think you’ll make a lovely succubus, don’t you?”

“I refuse!”

“What makes you think you have a choice? The night is still young. There are plenty of souls roving about for you to lead into temptation.”

She snapped her fingers and my clothes shifted becoming a form fitting outfit that left little to the imagination. I bit my lip, looked down at my breasts, which looked like they were about ready to pop out of the dress and felt a smile stretch across my face.

“As you wish, Lady Satan.”



The End

Comments, no matter the length, are very much appreciated. If you liked this story please take a minute to leave a review or even just to tell me you liked it. Criticism is welcome so long as it is constructive and I will gladly answer any personal messages or emails you want to send my way.

As my other stories this is a work of fiction and as such any resemblance to real life individuals, events or locations is purely unintentional. Only my own site, Fictionmania, Bigcloset Topshelf, & tgstorytime.com have permission to host this story and my previous works unless I state otherwise.

Karma is a Bitch

07/15/2017

Sometimes the universe doles out Karma when it’s due, but other times it needs a little push.

 

Author's Note

This piece was largely inspired by a discussion on the fictionmania hyperboard about feminized men going back and taking revenge on those who had wronged them. I’ve always despised force transformations of this type and it was a little fun to do something different with this trope. This was originally part of the anthology It’s Strange, but it’s True.

 

There had been a time when I’d thought magic was nothing more than a bunch of silly tricks, but that was before he had come into my life. He was just beginning his transformation and it would be over in a matter of minutes. It was the least he deserved for what he put me and so many others through. My only regret was that it wouldn’t last longer. I took consolation in the fact that while the changes would be brief, they’d also be excruciating.

I could feel it starting, the pure luminescent and elemental energy of the Earth wrapping around him like a cocoon. Lucian let out a scream as his body started to contort and twist. Breasts pushed out from his chest. A scar, which had disfigured one of his nipples smoothed out almost as if it had never existed. Muscles faded away and his tall frame, shrunk draining away like water from a broken vase.

Another scar, this one in his thigh, paled then disappeared and I let out a sigh of regret. I would have like for him to keep that one. I’d been the one to give it to him. His hips expanded just about the same time as a mass of brilliant red curls cascaded from the back of his once brunette head. He let out a scream and clenched his brown eyes shut and when he opened them again they were a brilliant blue. His chiseled jaw, softened and his nose, broken long ago, popped back into place and shortened to match the rest of his now beautiful feminine face. Hell, even his teeth, crooked and stained from years of smoking, straightened and whitened.

Hands shrunk, bunions disappeared, legs went on for miles, arms took on just the right amount of tone, they all changed to match his new body, but the final transformation was the most traumatic, at least for Lucian. He let out another scream and reached out to grab his crotch where his cock and balls, his pride and joy, became a perfectly formed vagina.

“Oh god,” he said with that high feminine voice and I slammed my fist into the new woman’s jaw as the rest of the spell took effect.

The fierce intelligence once mirrored in her eyes faded away replaced by a vacant withdrawn look. Lucian was still there, but he wasn’t exactly holding the reins to his body any more. Kitty however was, and Lucian would be forced to experience everything she did, a prostitute who had a taste for some particularly distasteful and painful things. Finally, he’d gotten what was coming to him. Karma was a bitch even if it occasionally needed a little push.

Eventually, Lucian might find a way to reverse the spell I’d put on his mind, but somehow I doubted he’d ever find a way to reverse the sex change. I know I hadn’t.



The End

Comments, no matter the length, are very much appreciated. If you liked this story please take a minute to leave a review or even just to tell me you liked it. Criticism is welcome so long as it is constructive and I will gladly answer any personal messages or emails you want to send my way.

As my other stories this is a work of fiction and as such any resemblance to real life individuals, events or locations is purely unintentional. Only my own site, Fictionmania, Bigcloset Topshelf, & tgstorytime.com have permission to host this story and my previous works unless I state otherwise.

I wish that I was Jessie’s Girl

04/22/2017

An unusual song somehow finds a way onto a Jogger’s playlist and it changes ‘her’ life forever.

 

Author’s Note: This story features a parody of the Rick Springfield song ‘Jessie’s Girl’ which ironically enough is a tune I dislike with a passion. I heard this song in the store one day and the idea popped into my head. This story was originally featured as the intro piece to The Music Celebrates With Me

 

I wish that I was Jessie’s girl

The music blared in my ear and I glanced down at my phone. That wasn’t right. I tried pausing the playlist, but the music just wouldn’t stop. Even the skip button wasn’t doing a damn bit of good.

Yeah, I know she’s been a good friend of mine
But lately something’s changed, that’s so hard to define
Jessie’s already got a girl, but soon she will be mine

“What the fuck?” I stopped in my tracks fiddling with my phone and tried to turn it off, but even that wouldn’t work. I gave up and reached up to yank the earbuds out of my ears, but even though I was pulling as hard as I could they wouldn’t pop free.

Something odd was going on, the only damn thing the phone would tell me was that the song was part of a playlist called “The Mixed Tape.”

And you know I have a hot bod
One she’ll never be able to resist, I just know it
Pretty soon we’ll be making love, all day and night

You know, I thought to myself, it’s really not that bad. I grinned and took off running again. What was I so worried about anyway? It was just a stupid little song. Was my chest bouncing? That didn’t seem right.

You know I wish that I was Jessie’s girl
I wish that I was Jessie’s girl
Why can’t I be a woman for her?

Next time, I went for a jog, I really needed to wear a sports bra. What could I have been thinking? I thought about going back home, but I was really just getting into the groove of things. A good work out was like a good dance, if I quit and went back now I’d screw up my rhythm.

I’ll play for as long as it takes
I’m sick of sitting around and biding my time
When I’m done with her, she’ll only want to be with me
I’m gonna tell her that I love her and I’ll have her forever

I slowed and smiled as I approached Jessie’s place. I had a thing for her, but we were just friends. Maybe that would change. I undid my ponytail glanced down at my chest and smiled. I wished I was a little more presentable, but my heart told me that this was the time. I swallowed hard and with slow furtive steps I found myself at her doorstep. I reached up to knock and…

And you know I have a great bod
One she’ll never be able to resist, I just know it
Pretty soon we’ll be making love, all day and night.

“Jessie!” I grinned pulling my earbuds free as the door swung open. She looked like she was ready to go out for a jog herself, but that didn’t stop me. “So listen, I was thinking that we could go out sometime.”

 



The End

Comments, no matter the length, are very much appreciated. If you liked this story please take a minute to leave a review or even just to tell me you liked it. Criticism is welcome so long as it is constructive and I will gladly answer any personal messages or emails you want to send my way.

As my other stories this is a work of fiction and as such any resemblance to real life individuals, events or locations is purely unintentional. Only my own site, Fictionmania, Bigcloset Topshelf, & tgstorytime.com have permission to host this story and my previous works unless I state otherwise.

Justice

04/15/2017

A sex slave, only remembers bits and pieces of her former life. She hates her captors, but seeks to please them in hopes of receiving another taste of the sweet drug known as nectar. Will she succumb to their will or will justice prevail?

 

Author’s Note: I dislike stories where the characters are captured and transformed against their will. This tale is intended to portray the victim of such acts in a more sympathetic light.

 

I wrapped my hands around the bars of my cage and looked up at Rico, but he only stopped long enough to drop his cigarette and grind it out. He was my captor, my tormentor, and the person who had taken everything away from me, and although I hated the bastard with every fiber of my being, I wanted nothing more than to please him. He doled out the punishments… and nectar. If I pleased him I could be assured that sweet, sweet rapturous bliss would soon follow.

I was broken, remade, into something that bore little resemblance to my former self. All I wanted was release, another taste of that sweet, sweet drug. Sometimes when I wasn’t jonesing for another fix or lost to ecstasy of Nectar, bits and pieces of my old life came back to me, but those moments were getting further apart.

I collapsed back onto my ass and grunted as I rubbed my plump posterior. Had it always been so bulbous or was that one of the new additions my captors had forced on me? I didn’t know, but it certainly felt different. I smiled demurely. It wasn’t good to let Rico see me show my real emotions, that could lead to punishment and more pain. Sometimes it was hard to hold back the rage that had become a constant part of my life, but if I didn’t I might see that existence come to an end.

Every time I touched my new breasts, my anger swelled to even greater levels and it was all I could do to keep myself from throwing my head back and screaming. Another fix was what I needed, the nectar would make me calm again, but it would bring more changes.

I heard shouting, and light flooded the garage as the big bay door came crashing open. Men in guns charged in and I cowered in the corner of my cage and shielded my eyes and ears against the flash and bang that accompanied their assault. Stun grenades. How did I know that term?

I screamed as a tall figure knelt down next to my cage, but when I looked up at him, I realized that there was something familiar about him. He was someone I had known… before. He freed me from my cage and I melted into his arms. “S-sarge?”

“Dan? By god! What the hell have they done to you?”

“Who am I?” I asked.

“Dan, I’m so sorry. I should have never let you go in alone.”

When I caught sight of Rico I took off running, but even when I heard people shouting after me I didn’t stop. At least not until I reached Rico’s form and fell to my knees pummeling him with blow after blow. Hands locked around my wrists and pulled me away. I sobbed and collapsed into Sarge’s arms again. Rico had been brought to justice, but my life, as little of it that I could remember, had been destroyed.



The End

Comments, no matter the length, are very much appreciated. If you liked this story please take a minute to leave a review or even just to tell me you liked it. Criticism is welcome so long as it is constructive and I will gladly answer any personal messages or emails you want to send my way.

As my other stories this is a work of fiction and as such any resemblance to real life individuals, events or locations is purely unintentional. Only my own site, Fictionmania, Bigcloset Topshelf, & tgstorytime.com have permission to host this story and my previous works unless I state otherwise.