Metamorphosis: Chapter 2

| Oct 24, 2016

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2]

I am reeling on the floor feeling pain over every square inch of my body. My chest expands then collapses. This happens multiple times and becomes more excruciating each time.  My legs begin to tighten. It feels as if my skin is wrapping itself around my bones. I force my eyes open — looking, wishing, someone will help me.

I scream out for the old woman and beg her to stop this pain. She is no longer there. She has vanished. I am frightened. I’m thinking I made the wrong choice. Why did I trust that strange hag? Why!

My chest expands one last time, lifting my t-shirt up and away from my body. I place my hands on my chest and feel two large lumps. As I lower my chin, I can see the shape of my nipples protruding against the fabric of my shirt. They are stiff and defined. I can see the outline of my areolae. They are much rounder and wider than before. A sensation of arousal washes over my body and it is calming, exciting, thrilling.

The hair on my legs begins to fade like invisible ink on paper. I finally understand what is happening to me and I now welcome the pain. I cry out with terror and elation. The pitch of my voice is even higher than before and I am delighted.

I can feel hair rushing out of my scalp. It feels as if tiny insects are crawling around the top of my head. As my hair grows, I can feel it creep across the old wooden floor of the cottage. It stops suddenly. I take a breath expecting that there is more to follow.

My stomach shrinks as my hips expand. As my hips begin to stretch, I wince and tears form in my eyes. It is as if I am being pulled in two different directions. I feel like a puppet, strapped to steel strings that pull, prod, and manipulate.

I begin to feel my lips plump up as if I was having an allergic reaction. I pucker them to help release some pressure. With my hands at my side, I cannot help but scratch at a wooden plank against the floor to help ease the pain. The transformation pauses for a moment. I press my fingers against my lips and they are extremely sore.

My body begins to shrink at a rapid pace. My arms and legs seem half the size they were seconds ago. I feel so feminine already. I lay upon this floor feeling exhilaration, it is intoxicating.

I place my hands upon my cheeks and run my fingers up and down. It feels as smooth as a summer lake at dawn. My sweat pants begin to feel eight sizes too big. They feel loose against my new body. A sharp stabbing pain between my legs instantly steals my attention. I fold up into a fetal position and begin to cry.

“Oh my god,” I sob, as I watch the bulge in my pants slowly flatten before my eyes. I cross my legs and close my eyes. I arch my back and place my hand over my eyes. Pleasure and pain combine as I take a deep breath and wait for this to end. I think about my experience with tattoos and how after the pain ends, you’re left with something beautiful. I pray that this yields the same results.

Seconds later the pain subsides. The room is quiet. I can hear the crackling of the fire and the beating of my heart under my supple breasts. I feel them once more to make sure they are real. I can feel them rubbing against each other underneath my shirt. They feel perfect. They feel amazing.

I slowly stand up and feel hair drop to the middle of my back. I run my fingers through it and see the golden color of the mid-day sun. I have certainly changed.

With no mirror in sight, I haven’t a clue what I look like now. Suspense and thrill overwhelm my senses as I dash around the cottage seeking a mirror. The very thing I tried to avoid becomes this horrible absence in my life. I am frantically looking behind doors and cupboards and shelves… Nothing. 

I feel a bit dizzy and nauseous. I peak around the room wondering if that old woman has returned. I notice clothing, befitting of my new body lying upon the chair in the spot where the woman had previously sat. I remove my oversized garments and look down upon myself. I cannot help but to admire my body, my legs, my breasts, my… lady parts. I start to put on my new outfit piece by piece.

I place my legs through a pair of lace carnation-pink panties and slowly pull them up to my hips. I twirl around looking at my firm, plump buttocks. I can’t believe how sexy I look in these cute underwear. Something like this would have never fit me before, it is a feeling I cannot and dare not describe. Beyond happiness and elation. I think of the best day of my life before today and it pales in comparison. 

I struggle to put on the matching bra as I have never done so before now. I finally get the hooks to attach and feel proud of myself.

There are dark blue denim jeans, a hot pink sweater, white knee-high fuzzy boots and a woman’s pink ribbed down jacket folded neatly behind the chair. “This lady has exquisite style,” I think aloud.  All of these clothes are totally me and totally cute. Best of all, everything fits like a glove. It reminds me of how Cinderella must have felt when her fairy godmother waved her wand and weaved a dress around her body.

I finally finish dressing and stumble to the door of the cottage. I open it carefully as I still have no clue as to my whereabouts. I walk out of the doorway and see nothing but snow filled trees and brush. It seems like the tree line extends for miles. I try to look beyond the trees into the sky and notice the darkening clouds overhead. The wind begins to pick up and a storm is rolling in with unnatural speed. The clouds move around the sky like I’m watching a time-lapse video. I need to retreat to the cottage for shelter.

It is the dead of winter and I feel an icy breeze brush against my face. It is frigid but it feels nice on my skin. All of this business has made me hot and feverish. I wipe beads of sweat off my forehead and proceed.

I hear a moan coming from beyond the trees in the distance. I notice a figure emerge from the forest. It is a man. He limps towards me and takes a few more steps until he collapses face first into the fresh snow.

I wait to see if he will move on his own. Perhaps he is dangerous. I don’t feel like I have all of my strength back and still feel pretty wobbly. He lays there motionless. Is he dead? Is he injured? Who is he? How did he get here? I scurry towards him to see if I can help.

Too be continued….

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Category: Fiction

About RaquelRSwann: Tell us about yourself...I am a transgender writer/blogger who is just getting started as an author and a woman. My"Metamorphosis" Series will be featured in Transliving Magazine starting in September. I have a lot to contribute and hopefully will be releasing a book in the near future! If you want to read more of my works please go to http://tsraquelswann.wordpress.com or follow me on Twitter @RaquelRSwann Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy the thoughts, emotions, & worlds I continue to create for you. Love, Raquel

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