You know, it is easy to feel like a freak, especially whilst traversing puberty, and, truly, there's a lot of cruelty in being an adolescent in a whole herd-- or multiple herds-- of other adolescents.
Those with the most developed social skills-- i.e. "good at lying", especially to themselves-- tend to form herds of like-minded characters and use this bastion of emotional shielding to snipe at those "outside". It doesn't make the folks "inside" any less of a freak, but, by doing their best to dump the label on others, they get to feel superior.
You see, not only are these people good at lying, they are also thieves, stealing any chance of self-respect from their victims.
And, a lot of time, that's all it really is, an effort to steal self-esteem from others by projecting it outwards, the old "fake it until you can make it" trick. They manage to escape the worst of their own self-doubt by dumping it all onto others, and, watching other suffering, boosts their own sense of self-worth.
You try feeling "normal" with the sudden growth of hair-- and body parts-- and the whip-sawing of emotional moods that comes with the hormonal ebb and flow of puberty. Given that the mysteries of adulthood are kept mysteries from the pubescent means that we have no chance to recognize that we are all about as normal as anyone else in the world.
So try feeling normal with no information. I dare you.
Not gonna take it, are you? Because you've already gotten past these emotional rapids and never wanting to return to this period of uncertainty and pain, right?
So it's really us kids who aren't "inside" such a mutual support pact, the "loners", that get little opportunity to play the dance of denial and actually have to come to grips with the idea that they don't fit in anywhere . Any sense of self-esteem is stolen from us, all because of labels.
The hell of it being, of course, that this whole maelstrom, giving a basis for identity and then snatching it right back away from you, just like Lucy and Charlie Brown playing football, does not make for a comfortable adolescence. Add to this the illusion of the various cliques in the lie that their adolescence is more comfortable. You can feel very "outside" when you are surrounded by so many liars and thieves.
Of course, just to make matters worse, there are the people like me... who are real freaks.
I discovered that I was a real honest-to-God freak while I was just fourteen, right before I was scheduled to start in High School as a Freshman. Up until this point I had only erroneously merely believed myself to be a freak which is not the same thing as getting final confirmation.
Talk about wanting to retreat to that state of relative uncertainty: that was me, then.
Oh, sure, NOW I can deal with it all, but, back then? No way!
I did end up having to grow up really fast, perhaps faster than I "should" have, as if there's any absolute "should" in the world. It wasn't comfortable, but, at least, my family did help me through it.
Well... once they got through the shock of discovering what (and I do mean "what") I am.
It all started in the aftermath of a family vacation getaway to a beach resort community. A wonderfully "all American" activity as we were driving home, late at night, led to the discovery that I was not a "regular" boy.
I'd been napping on-and-off in the back seat of the car, dreaming of a girl I'd met-- Sami-- at the resort. I'd found her very attractive, as if that's any surprise.
Hello! You've heard of testosterone, perhaps? As a teen age boy, I had more than my fair share of it!
So, there I was, thinking about my interactions with Sami.
All right, I had even been able to talk... well, maybe, more like stammer at... Sami... and she hadn't seemed tempted to laugh at me, despite my clumsiness whenever I was around her. She was actually a year older than me-- well, more like fifteen months-- and, to my eye, gorgeous. This is not to say that she talked to me as more than "just a friend", but, given my hormones, I couldn't help but to dream of her as becoming more.
I think you can tell that Sami was my very first "real" crush.
Yes, one of those .
And I still didn't understand the situation... so I didn't know to be confused. When you're awash in hormones it is unlikely to realize that a crush is not going any-where, any-way, at least, not yet. You learn the need for a reciprocal emotion on the part of the person you desire to get beyond mere infatuation. It is only through hindsight, long after you feel like you've bonded with the person of your dreams, that you can recognize what has a future...
... and what... or who... doesn't.
Yeah, you go way too far, unilaterally, no matter how scared you may be of the humiliating events that come from these early efforts at relationships.
So, during our trip home, I'd been piled in the back seat of the car with my 10 year-old sister Dawn, and I started out hoping to have a real hot dream of Sami as I faded into sleep...
I got woken up by my mom after they parked the car in the garage, expecting us to get out of the car and head for our beds. As the dome light in the car came on, my mom yelled "Who are you!" which instantly shattered my doze.
There was no chance that I-- or my sister, for that matter-- would sleep through her shriek, especially as my father got to my side of the car and added his own yell that contained a mix of confusion and anger.
"Dad, Mom," I said, "What's wrong? Who are you screaming at?" I didn't understand what was going on because they were looking at me... which was really freaking me out.
Somehow my teen-ager's sense of wishful thinking concluded that this whole exercise had to be a joke.
When Dawn rubbed the sleep from her eyes she looked at me and asked me who I was.
This was weird. I looked around as my parents-- and my little sister-- stared at me and looked down at my body before returning to my face.
I decided to make the same survey and turned my eyes downward... and stayed there. I was surprised by what I was seeing, my parents getting a better idea of my vocabulary than they-- or I-- wanted when I yelled out "What the fuck is going on!? I have breasts!"
Far be it from me to imply that I made any kind of sense, there and then, or to imply that I had any sense of, well, perspective. Both of my hands suddenly filled themselves with the "new" body parts I suddenly possessed... and I stopped that to quickly check for yet another favored portion of my anatomy... which was, at that point, missing. I did have a thought run through my head that I was going to miss that part of me.
"Mom, Dad?" I called out, "What the fuck happened to me?"
Well... that was good for a blank stare.
I took a closer look at myself-- I was not merely female but I was a well-built girl, better built than Sami had been.
By this point my parents had stopped hyper-ventilating and were just staring at me like I was some kind of alien and I saw their eyes suddenly shift to meet each other's. Dawn continued to gape at me like a fish, her eyes as big as saucers.
I finally understood that phrase.
That's when the light on the garage door opener went out.
Once my dad had turned on the lights in the garage, my mom hustled me out of the car and into the house while I kept trying to tell her her that I was her son. She dragged me into the master bathroom before she had me strip out of my clothing in front of the big floor-to-ceiling mirror.
It was as I stood in front of my mother that I got my first clear view of a real, live, naked girl.
Unfortunately, that real, live, naked girl I examined in the mirror happened to be me, making it unlikely for me to ever to boast about it to my few male friends.
Viewing myself as a girl in the mirror was a shock... and it took precious seconds to recognize who I looked like. I saw myself in the shape of one of Sami's friends at the resort. I recalled that girl giving me the oddest looks and wouldn't even talk to me.
Hindsight, as they say, is 20:20. It was only later, as I learned and understood "human sexuality" better than I did then, for me to realize that there was a chance that Sami was either lesbian or bisexual. By the time I came to this conclusion my infatuation had long since faded and I was falling for girls in my freshman class.
So, there I was, in my mom's bathroom, her staring at me. She finally looked me in the eyes and asked me "So, Jeff, what does it feel like?"
My hands hadn't been still; I had wanted to know what breasts would feel like. I was disappointed by this because the sensations coming from my new-found breasts and nipples washed out what my fingers were able to tell me. I answered my mom as honestly as I could: "Tingly."
"Then stop kneading your breasts and pay attention to me."
That hit me like a slap. "What?"
My mom sighed, adding, "Well, if I suddenly have another daughter-- and I hope someone slipped us all some LSD rather than this being for real-- you have things to learn."
As a boy I had no idea how complicated a girl's body gets no matter how simple the operation. My mom taught me what to do when I peed and it was annoying to have to learn how to wipe myself "properly".
I did not admit my discovery of how good it felt to touch myself down there to my mom. I didn't realize, until later, that she already had to know, being a woman herself.
When I was finally allowed to gather up my clothes to go to my bedroom, I decided to lay on my bed and touch myself some more, discovering that whatever was dripping out of my... pussy... was slippery... and made further touching a lot smoother.
The good news? I didn't need a rag to catch ejaculate.
The bad news? I enjoyed the orgasm so much I didn't want to be a boy again... and I was almost disappointed to discover that I was me again, once I came down from the orgasm.
I think my parents would have been a lot happier with my returned maleness if I had bothered to throw on a robe and not just walk into their bedroom while they were... ahem... "in the midst".
I have since learned that there's always a little bit of curiosity of "how the opposite sex" really feels. For most teens, I think, it likely comes from wondering if, say, girls have an easier time with life, at least socially. It sure had looked easier to me given that they didn't have to place themselves where they could be rejected in front of an audience. It wasn't until some years later that I heard that the rejection that many girls feel is more a case of being neglected... so, in hindsight, I suspect the pain of adolescence, at least for the "normals", was evened out.
But, truly, learning those kinds of lessons would take some more time, any way.
At this point, after my first shift, I was wondering what I learned about "being a girl", or, at least, wearing a girl's body.
All right, so that one experience had certainly taught me a lot about how a female body could feel.
And, to be honest, the idea that I could ever get close to using this new knowledge on a girl from school seemed to be close to somewhere between slim... and none, even if I did think it gave me some kind of advantage.
Yeah, right! But, hey, I was only fourteen years old, so such fantasies are not unexpected, y'know?
Oh, sure, if I could get an intimate moment with a girl-- or woman, for that matter-- I knew just enough of what to do with my hands on their body to please them. The reality, however, was that I had little or no likelihood of getting to that point.
Laugh all you want. The knowledge I had acquired was not usable in the "approach phase" of mating.
Yes, my parents were pleased that I returned to being a boy, again. I didn't tell them that I had masturbated to an orgasm just before I flipped back, of course. Some things you just do not discuss with your parents, y'know?
So I was a normal teen-age boy. Again. Sami faded from my mind, too... and I now figure that being a girl for an hour or so might have been related to dreaming of her.
Hell, I had dreams that she was a witch and had done that to me to punish me for dreaming of her.
Discovering that it was something within me that changed my body instead of actions imposed on me from outside started with the next great crush of my love life: Holly.
A teen-age boy can either get locked into a crush or have it fade out as he feels disappointment and starts looking for another girl or woman to obsess over. And, so, I had some experience when I fell for Holly.
Waking up in the body of an adult man was weird. I sure liked the bigger dick this body had and played with it.
I made the connection then and there that I would revert to my own body whenever I reached an orgasm.
For me, my infatuation evaporated because I'd become some one else, even for a short time.
The next girl I fell head over heels for was Pam.
I'd guess Pam was in love with herself. I woke up as Pam.
And, yes, I confirmed that an orgasm flips me back to myself. I also confirmed that I wished I had been born a girl, too, if only for how strong the orgasm could be.
Debbie, Teresa, Alice, Carol, Lisa... each girl took her turn as my flame, even if it was all in my head. My fascination for them faded when I woke up as some one-- or thing-- else. It was like any girl I dreamt of was able to punish me.
This is not to say that I was handling the other stresses very well, and, truly, as much as I felt like a freak, there was the belief-- wrongly-- that it was somehow being put on me, rather than something I was doing.
Well, I could hope, you know? When you can't change things, I realized, it seems easier to deal with the anxiety when you feel like you have no control.
You know, like a victim.
So I took a hiatus in dreaming of any girl "that way" for almost two weeks... until Dawn's friend Dolores had slept at our house one week-end and her sister Darla, one of the nice girls in my grade level, came by to pick up her sister.
I'd like to say that it was love at first sight but it wasn't. It was more like the third or fourth time we sat and talked that did the trick.
Darla and I started out talking for quite a while that first day while her little sister Dolores got herself ready to go home after the sleep-over. I think both of our little sisters liked how we were sitting in the living room and talking instead of rushing Dolores out the door.
Admittedly I actually resisted the urge to fall "in love" again, even with a nice cuddly-looking girl like Darla. It didn't take very many days for me to finally melt every time I saw her in the halls at school and watched her smile at me.
The standard mechanism of "she can't like me for real" did take a beating when I learned that she liked me, even though I wasn't quite ready for it or believed it possible.
Somehow my curse wasn't much of a curse with her. I kept waking up as myself, still... but was finding differences in my body.
One morning Darla dropped by before I had managed to take matters into my own hands, so to speak, and she was looking me up and down when I answered the door and invited me out for a bike ride in the park.
We were soon riding around and she told me she liked me. I answered back that I liked her, too. It was like magic when we decided to go steady.
Darla and I got along better and better and one week-end afternoon we had a nice picnic in the park, having ridden there... and got drenched by a storm.
By this time the rain was a lot colder than we could really stand and made it to my house before we froze to death. We hurried into the house and the next thing I knew we were sharing a hot shower. This wasn't really my idea, oddly enough, but it was enabled by having the rest of my family out of the house.
The upshot was that a lot of the knowledge I had accumulated from having been a girl suddenly came in handy. I got to try my fingers on her and she encouraged me to use my mouth on her, which turned out to be fun, especially given how good she tasted to me. When she used her fingers on me, and, then, tried using her mouth...
Wow!
At least that was a mutual experience.
We got our clothes into the dryer, me dressed in a pair of my ratty shorts with a t-shirt and her in my big terry-cloth bathrobe. I was glad my folks liked to keep the house a bit on the warm side.
Darla and I spent more time talking to each other, cuddled up together on the couch, interrupting each other with gentle kisses... well, most of 'em were gentle.
I'd finally found a girl I had been able to dream of without her punishing me by making me into someone else.
What I did not realize, yet, was that she controlled what my subconscious would try to make me become... and that she still wanted me... so I was becoming me.
We had more little meetings over the next month which were never quite enough for us to do much more than touch and kiss each other. Having an empty house within which to share another shower wasn't likely to happen any time soon.
Watching television together on a Saturday afternoon could have ended up being our undoing as a couple. We both fell asleep while watching an Anime named "Inuyasha" with our little sisters.
The shredding of my clothing as my body changed shape was what woke me up... I found myself to be a lot different than I expected for I had the long hair... and weird ears... as that half-demon from the TV.
Heck, in the mirror I looked more like a cartoon character than a flesh-and-blood imitation of an anime character.
Dawn and Dolores, on looking at me, went "Cool!!!" and, once Darla caught sight of me, her eyes widened.
Her words of "Kiss me, Jeff" got a loud "Ewwwwwwwww" out of our sisters as we smooched.
I got up, went to my bedroom, whacked off, and, on becoming me again. dressed and headed back to the living room.
I didn't make it.
Darla stood outside my door and put her hand on my chest, then told me to go back into my bedroom. She followed me.
What then unfolded was giving my virginity to Darla as she climbed on top of me and we fucked our brains out. We fell asleep...
"What the FUCK is going on around here!" was the scream from my mom as she stood in my door. I was still, for the most part, underneath Darla, and I needed to get my wits about me right quick. Darla was rousing as well but was not waking up as quickly.
I finally spoke up, saying "Sorry, mom, but Darla and I love each other... and we kind of lost control."
I've always had a good vocabulary, being an avid reader of science fiction, so my mom let me know what apoplexy looked like. It's not pretty.
We were dragged back to the living room by my mom, not being given an opportunity to dress ourselves, first, so my dad and both of our sisters were sitting there as we were led in and bid to sit.
Dawn and Dolores looked at us funny, as did my dad, who spoke first, saying "All right, what happened while we were out?"
I opened my mouth and got hushed by my dad.
"Dawn, explain to us..."
"Daddy, he turned into Inuyasha this time! Then he ran to his room! Darla got up and followed him and they started making all kinds of weird noises so we went and looked in his room where Darla was bouncing on top of him! It looked weird when they both got loud and then Darla laid down on top of him. When they stopped moving for a while we came back to watch TV."
My dad sighed. My mom walked to their bedroom... and came back after a minute with the cordless phone saying "...yes, you have to come to our house now . We have a situation."
Darla and I looked at each other. My hand reached for hers and she accepted it and, once our fingers inter-twined, she held on tight to me. Both of my folks looked at us like we shouldn't be so close, but, I was not going any further from Darla than I had to.
It was ten minutes of silence later when there was a knock at the door. Dawn and Dolores were sent to answer it and we clearly heard Dolores excitingly saying "Hi Mom, hi Dad!"
Note that Darla and I were still naked, sitting on the leather love seat, awaiting judgment. Darla seemed to be less anxious than I was with her parents arriving.
"Darla" her mom said, on finishing her detailed once-over, "What are you doing?"
"Mom, I want Jeff..."
Her mom sighed. "You are a bit young to make that decision for it to... ummmm... stick. This isn't something you can just play with, this is serious !"
Darla and I looked towards each other at the same time. I felt scared at the same time I felt proud and happy that she did want me. I spoke up, saying "Well, it's not like I can think of anyone else who I feel so good around, you know!"
My lover's smile broadened, and, seemingly without making a move, we seemed to slide closer together. It was like the force of gravity as our lips met and our arms wrapped around each other.
When we finally backed off-- and, given how long the kiss lasted, I expected everyone else in the room to have either left or even died of old age-- our parents were still there, dammit, and looked like they hadn't aged more than four or five years, except for Darla's mom, whose hair had seemingly turned white.
My mom spoke up, saying, "You know, children, what you two did together is how babies are made, so you're playing with fire..."
Darla and I shared a glance as we rolled our eyes, and, when we turned back to our folks, said, in unison, "No shit!" and giggled when we realized we said the same thing.
Darla's mom spoke up, saying "So we really need to get you on the pill, dear, if you're going to continue... ummmm..."
"Fucking?" Darla asked.
It was obvious, to me, that her mom did not appreciate her daughter's effort to assist her vocabulary. Darla and I glanced at each other again on seeing the reaction and then giggled together again.
"Yes. mom, putting me on the pill would be a great idea, as much as I love Jeff, I don't think either of us is ready to be parents... though you look like you're ready to be a gramma."
That's when Darla's dad looked at his wife and we saw the shock run through him on seeing the change in his wife's hair color, which triggered another pause as he dragged his wife to a mirror. We were silent, hugging each other as Darla's folks came to terms with an unwelcome change. It took another eternity, about five minutes or so, for them to steady down and re-join the conversation.
Darla's dad finally spoke up, saying "I don't like this, I really don't like this, Darla. What did you think you were doing?"
My lover sighed and leaned against me, pulling my arm around and to one of her breasts, and answered her dad, with "I had gotten to know and like him, Daddy, and I was wanting him to make me a woman... and I got all excited when I realized he could change into someone else... and I couldn't stop myself from wanting him right then and there."
"And... now that you... had sex... what do you think?"
Darla gazed into my eyes as I gazed into hers. I don't know what she saw in mine, but I was seeing my heroine, a perfect woman, in them. It took more than a few seconds for us to break our eye-to-eye conversation.
"Dad, mom, don't get me wrong, but... now? He's perfect."
I sighed, adding "Flattery, sweetheart, will get you anything I have... because it's you , not me, who is proof that perfection is possible."
We were suddenly kissing again and this time I felt myself get another hard-on even with our folks watching. We did manage to avoid coupling on the couch... but only barely. We were panting when we broke this clinch, hoping, this time, that our audience had died of old age, including our younger siblings. We talked about this later and she felt the same way, like our kisses lasted for an eternity.
Unfortunately no one in the room had aged.
Darla's dad asked my dad "What do we do now?"
My dad shrugged. "They can't marry... and she's going to be pregnant if this doesn't stop for a while."
My mom's brows furrowed... though, this time, not in anger. "Maybe... Arkansas?"
"What?" my dad asked, startled.
"Arkansas still has that typo'd law on the books that allow children of any age to marry with parental approval. If we go out there we can get them married... now."
Darla's dad started to chuckle, saying "Arkansas? I thought that they only allowed relatives to marry?"
This got all of our parents laughing while the four of us-- Me, Darla, Dawn and Dolores-- could only watch their mirth, not comprehending that this was a joke that went so far over our heads that we didn't even hear the "whoosh!".
Darla and I, as if it were possible, cuddled closer to each other than we had before and I thought she was purring. It took me a few seconds to realize that it wasn't just her I was hearing, I was purring as well.
Our folks went off into the kitchen and left us alone with our siblings in the living room. Darla's eyes met mine and smiled at me as I heard her say "Let's go to your room again, OK?"
Well, our folks hadn't separated us yet, and, yes, I did want to hold Darla again, close to me, in my bed, so...
Of course we went to my room, did you think I was stupid or scared enough to say no?
This time, though, we chose to try different things and I started out this session on top, driving. We took our time now that we could think with working brains and tried a lot of little things, learning what would please us both. My knowledge of having worn a woman's body came in handy, at least for my fingers, lips and tongue, but the feeling of slipping in and out of her again taught me a lot given how I was concentrating on my lover's reactions to me.
I didn't realize how much she was focusing on how I was reacting to her, but she seemed to read me very well.
There is no doubt that Darla was completely spent when I finally fired another set of DNA samples into her body given that I had done as much as I could to bring her off first to get her as ready as possible before the main event. I wanted her to know this was something special.
You should also not doubt that I was just as spent, so, to aid us both, I did my best to shift us into a cuddle position on our sides-- spooning-- with me snuggled up behind her to hold her close. Her sleepy sigh was echoed by my own as I drifted off.
Neither of us had enough spare attention to recognize that we had an audience.
I was gently awakened by my mom while Darla continued her nap. I wasn't happy to wake up but my mom didn't seem to be displeased as pointed to my chest.
I looked down, expecting to find breasts again... and found, instead, a lot of muscles. My arms were very well built, too, and I suspected other portions of my body would, likewise, be pretty buff.
While a part of me hoped this would last, I wondered why my body changed like this, usually after I've slept. We long ago gave up figuring how this happened, figuring that it was some kind of 'magic'.
Magic or not, it was something I'd have to live with... and hope that Darla could cope with as well, too.
Darla stirred in my arms and I felt...
Some emotions flush through you in ways that you cannot find language for. Even now I lack the vocabulary necessary to give even the weakest description of the feelings I had as my lover moved within my encircling arms. Even the ecstacy I felt as I hugged her close to me is hard to relate through mere words.
On top of that, the purr that arose from her was echoed by me... and yet another shiver ran through my soul.
Through all of this my mom-- and Darla's mom-- watched us as we woke up, doing their best to minimize the shock.
So, with me behind her, the first face Darla saw on waking up was her mother.
I squeezed her again when she stiffened on seeing her mom, doing my best to reassure her that she wasn't alone. As she relaxed back into my arms, leaning back against me, I felt another wash of satisfaction run through me.
"Hi, mom..." she said.
My future mother-in-law smiled at her daughter and asked, simply, "Are you happy?"
I felt my lover lean back against me and purr. "Yes."
Her mother sighed. "Now is a bad time to ask this, but, do you remember when you had your last period?"
Darla nodded, saying "I should get it two days from today. Why?"
I could see her relax, saying "Well, we have get you on the pill during your next period. We don't want you to have everything screwed up by getting pregnant, but, dear, the pill won't be reliable for at least a month, so, next month, you will have to use condoms."
Darla snuggled back against me. "Thank you, mom..." she sighed as I squeezed her closer to me.
"Libby," Darla's mom said, addressing my mom, "I don't remember him looking so... so..."
I could hear the smile in my mom's voice as she said "Eve, we weren't kidding, he changes shape, we don't know why... much less how ... but it happens. Usually while he sleeps. Dawn did say he'd looked like an anime character before the two of them first jumped into bed..."
Darla stirred, saying, "What's this about a different look, huh, Jeff?" and she rolled over, looked at my face... then looked at my chest and arms, saying "Oh, my... I was having a dream that you were all bulked up and would... wow ..."
Darla was easy to cuddle close to me.
With her knowing that I was a shape-shifter, her reaching to hold me closer made me hers. "I love you, Darla" I said, this time with all of my heart, the previous times having been less intense. Darla's echo was wonderful .
I didn't realize, at the time, that the treatment regimen to cure me of my feelings of being an outside and a freak had finally started in earnest. I didn't realize that I was providing treatment for Darla's own fears... until later.
I-- well, we-- managed to avoid getting Darla pregnant all through school. If anything, we grew closer and closer as we navigated the rocks and shoals of adolescence. Both of our folks did their best to be supportive of us but also did make sure we learned how to be properly supportive outside of the bed.
I will tell you that some of the lessons weren't easy, all right? But, to be truthful, they helped . Darla and I did not suffer too many fights, and, with each disagreement, we learned more about the give-and-take of a relationship.
We finally began to get a grip on my morphing when I became other people we knew, from school, which, when Darla finally admitted that she had dreams of them, occasioned some of our arguments, but I finally learned not to take her fantasies as a measure of disloyalty.
All right, so it wasn't easy, but I finally had to admit, in front of our parents, that I had my fantasies. I was just lucky that none of them ever played out on Darla's body.
The funny thing-- during college-- we experimented a bit. I learned that I was bonded to Darla, as she was to me, but, best of all, when Darla had me wear another's body, she enjoyed it more knowing that I was "inside".
Oh, and... yes, sex with a girl as a girl was great, too.
The funny thing we learned, though, was that Dawn was like me in being able to shape-shift. With what I'd learned with Darla, my sister had an easier time of it, knowing where and why she shifted. She needed the reassurances just as I had.
Darla and I had a good grasp of my ability to morph by the time I finally went to work as a therapist, and, the hardest thing to explain was why I didn't seem to show my age. Mind you, there were time when I could identify very well with my clients.
Of course Darla took another tack, becoming a doctor... but she didn't seem to be aging, either.
We got the big surprise with our first child-- Darla was able to shift, just like me, starting at the beginning of the third trimester. It seemed a miracle that this didn't do anything to our daughter.
Darla was a full-fledged metamorph, like me, by the time she gave birth to the twins.
All right, so now I understand better how she felt when her fantasy partner(s) were played out using my body. Someday she'll be able to forgive me for the hard time I gave her, way back when.
I worry what the kids will think when they learn about this.
I worry even more that this trait will breed true.
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Author: Jack C Lipton Title: Were and Tear Part: Universe: Shift Work Summary: Teen angst CAN be exacerbated Keywords: FM rom Revision: $Revision: 1.2 $ Archive: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/CupaSoup/www/ Mailing List: FAQ: RCS: $Id: wereAndTear.x,v 1.2 2007/09/15 18:23:12 jcl Exp $