Metamorphosis: Chapter 2

[Chapter 1]

I lay on the floor reeling in absolute agony. My chest expands, collapses then repeats. The pain becomes more excruciating each time. My limbs swell as my flesh tightens and wraps itself around cartilage. Tears gush from my eyes as I force them open. This witch set these events in motion blaming a great peril. The peril began when I drank the liquid.

I cry out for the old woman and urge her to stop this suffering, but she has vanished. I shudder with anxiety and worry I may have made the wrong decision. Why did I believe that strange hag? Why? As the pain eases, I wonder, will this new journey be worth the suffering? Positive thoughts occupy my mind as the transformation proceeds.

My chest expands one last time, raising my t-shirt up and away from my body. I press my hands against my bosom and discover two large lumps. As I lower my jaw, I witness protruding nipples against the fabric of my shirt creating an etched outline of widened areolas. With these few changes, the bliss has restored courage and strength. I brace myself for the next phase. Perhaps this was the right decision.

The hair on my legs fades like invisible ink on paper

The hair on my legs fades like invisible ink on paper. With each round of this metamorphosis I change into the woman hidden inside and I now desire the pain, even welcome it. This is what I have longed for since I could remember. I worry, for a moment, about how things will change forever. I decide I’ve made my choice and push those burdens aside. Nothing else matters, but this moment. Moans of anguish escape my lips and the pitch of my voice is even higher than earlier. I’m in love! LOOOOOOOOOOVE! Ouchy.

Thousands of hair follicles push out of my scalp. The sensation of tiny insects crawling around the top of my head prompts me to scratch. As my hair sprouts through my fingers, it slithers across the old oak floor of the cottage. Everything comes to a standstill, and the pain diminishes. I take a deep breath preparing for more. This can’t be all. What about the… Ow! Son of a…

My stomach shrinks then my hips widen. My wearied body stretches in various directions and I cringe as tears appear in my eyes. I’m a piece of clay being shaped by the clumsy hands of a child. I’m getting slapped, mashed, torn, and rolled. Stabbing pains accompanied by horrible gnawing cramps horrify me. Without the pulsing adrenaline and the suspense over the outcome, I would have passed out a while ago. This excitement keeps me craving more and more.

Like a Botox injection, my lips swell to two times their regular size. I pucker to release tension then press my thumbs against my tender lips and recoil. A few moments of relief are on my side, so I take deep breaths and get ready for the worst.

I lay on this floor in euphoric anguish. I’ve gotten tattoos in the past and had no problem enduring the pain, because I knew the outcome would be beautiful. This is no different, except a thousand times more painful. I run my fingers up and down my cheeks. They are smoother than a summer lake at dawn. My sweat pants are way too large to suit my smaller feminine frame. I laugh just thinking about the changes. Will they be what I’ve imagined? A sharp piercing pain between my legs steals my attention. I curl into a fetal position and burst into tears.

I know what’s taking place down there, and place a hand over my eyes trying not to over think. My vivid imagination of this moment must have spoiled me. I guess I assumed when granted a wish, a beautiful enchantress or fairy godmother would just wave a wand around and the transition would be seamless, painless. I should’ve known. My luck gave me an ugly old witch with bad breath and a crooked walking stick instead of a wand. Not very magical! After all this agony, I pray this yields fantastic results.

The pain subsides, and the room becomes silent. The only sounds are from the crackling fire and the beating of my heart under my supple breasts. I touch them once more to make sure they’re real. I can’t hold on any longer I pass out with a smile on my face.

Sometime later my eyes pop open. I gasp and break into a fit of coughing. As I lay sprawled out across the hard-wooden floor, I enjoy an icy breeze entering the cabin from a crack in the door. The old woman must have left it open when she left. Where the hell could she have gone? From what I saw earlier there is nothing within miles of this remote cottage.

While I struggle to my feet, my hair drops to the middle of my back. I run my fingers through the long flowing strands and it’s the golden color of the mid-day Sun. In the fantasies my mind conjured, I was blonde in every single one. That liquid had done its job but I cannot help but worry. Will there be any side effects other than complete happiness? Obliviously. Nothing’s free. Nothing.

Somehow the simplicity of it all makes me feel uneasy. Some of my trans-sisters and trans-brothers had to go through years of HRT involving countless types of cosmetic surgeries to pass as their gender identity. I wish I could mass produce the elixir and watch them become their true selves. It would bring me joy to end their years of suffering and rejection. I consider myself lucky and grateful right now for such a gift.

Suspense and thrill overwhelm my senses as I dash around the cottage looking for a mirror. The one accessory I tried to avoid, now becomes a necessity. I push open closet doors, search drawers, and even tear cupboards apart. There’s not a single mirror in this damn cabin. Not one.

I search the room and notice cute clothes folded over the back of the old wooden chair in the cottage’s corner. I rip my clothes off and take a moment to admire myself: my body, legs, breasts, hair, lady parts. Free at last! Set free from the worries of the world, from all that has troubled me for most of my life, and from this emotional prison I’ve created.

I lift my legs, one by one, through a pair of silk hot-pink panties and pull them up to my hips. The fabric is like feathers against my skin; a perfect fit! I twirl around looking at my firm, plump buttocks and can’t believe how amazing I look in this underwear. I struggle to hook the bra behind my back – there; I got it! Sexy lingerie wouldn’t have looked this good on me before, it’s a feeling I cannot and dare not describe.

Dark blue denim jeans, a matching pink sweater, white knee-high fuzzy boots and a woman’s pink ribbed down jacket lay behind the chair. This lady has exquisite style. She’s been inside my mind from the beginning. I should find that strange, but my emotions are in overdrive right now. No time to worry. Everything fits, I fit! YAS!

As the adrenaline wears off the onset of exhaustion and nausea are crippling. I limp over to the front door and swing it open just enough to peek outside. Still unsure as to my whereabouts, a warning in my heart reminds to stay cautious. I hobble through the doorway and see nothing but snow filled trees and brush. It seems like the tree line extends for miles. I climb up a trellis connected the side of the house hoping to find a city or perhaps a road, but too many branches block my view.

Ominous clouds lurk overhead as a storm moves in from the north. The wind changes from breezy to gale force within an instant pushing me against the trellis holding on for dear life. I jump down into the snow and tumble to my back. I watch formations of clouds dance around the sky at unnatural speeds. It’s like I’m watching a time lapse video. I get up from the ground and see nothing for miles but a frozen wasteland in the middle of a forest. An icy gust of wind blasts against my face. Falling snowflakes whip around in different directions as the wind picks up. After a few moments I’m standing in a fierce blizzard. My instincts are screaming for me to retreat to the cottage for shelter.

In between the whistling gusts of wind, I hear a faint moan from the trees in the distance. It sounds like an animal squealing in pain. I cup my hands over my brows to get a better look and there is nothing. Wait, a figure emerges out of the blizzard. It limps towards me then takes one more step until it collapses face first into fresh snow. I inch my way closer and realize it is a person.

I wait to see if they move on their own just in case they’re dangerous. My strength hasn’t returned and I’m too weak to defend myself. They lay motionless. Are they dead? Are they injured? How did they get here? Against my better judgment, I battle the wind and head towards the person to see if I can help. I can’t let someone freeze to death, evil or not – that’s just who I am.

 I can't let someone freeze to death, evil or not - that's just who I am

*****Author’s Notes*****

Any thoughts on where she is now? 

Where do you think the witch went? 

Who is the mysterious stranger?


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