Flux

By EMW

Part 1

 

Prologue

It's funny looking back I'm an only child and often when I was young I wished I had a little sister or brother to play with. Something in retrospect that brings to mind the old saying: ‘be careful what you wish for.’
   

My name was Tom Rivers, a 16 year old boy. I lived with my parents in the middle class suburb town of Wilynsford in Oxfordshire, England. We have had a reasonably nice life, not rich, not poor, and overall, we had pretty much all we wanted. I was happy, safe, and loved. What more could a kid want? My mother was a designer working for a local ASIC (Application Specific Integrated Circuit) design house. They did custom designs for various places, and she did some ASIC design and any software component required. My Dad worked as an artist in painting and photography. He did reasonably well, supplementing what he could make on his paintings and photographs with commissions for things like family photos or portraits. They were both very happy with their lives, and they had a fair degree of freedom in their work. Mum could telecommute and Dad had a studio at the end of our small garden, so they were around quite a bit, often working from home. Mum and Dad had always wanted to have more children but had been unable, I didn't know why it was something they didn't talk about. They managed not to spoil me too much letting me grow up relatively normal.

Neither of my parents had gone through MORFS, their generation was the first to be of the right age to go through it. So they had both had friends who changed. Back then it was a long painful process. There was also the fear it caused, initially they didn't know what was happening, what was causing kids and animals to change. I can't imagine what that would be like for the first sufferers and their families. The initial shock and terror of this thing was that it reaches inside you, changes you seemingly at random. Some coming through it with radically different hybrid bodies or powers, that until then had only existed in story books and the darkest of nightmares. It certainly puts a lot of my problems in perspective. Nowadays, it was getting to be the norm that a percentage of kids would undergo MORFS, it had been happening for nearly 3 decades; I guess I had always known it was a possibility for me.


Ch1 – Beginning
(Tom)

In the summer of 2035, I was at school when the first signs of what was to come surfaced. It was just after lunch on the Friday, I had just narrowly avoided getting beaten up by one of the schools resident bullies. Standing 5'9" tall but skinny as a rake, I was usually OK, but I lacked the social status, or athletic prowess to be totally safe. It was still 20 minutes till the end of lunch break so I sneaked off to the library. Our school was one of the better equipped in the area; the library had plenty of books and info tech learning resources for pupils to make use of. The ground floor was dedicated entirely to books, while the upper floors were filled with the more modern teaching tablets that had high speed access to the teaching networks and a filtered subset of the Internet.

I found my friends in a corner of the reference section where we tended to meet, as it was quiet there. Most other students went up stairs, avoiding the books at all cost, so the downstairs was free for us to use most of the time.
 
The whole gang was there, including myself there where five of us. John Fielding sat at the head of the table, the most outgoing. He had been one of the schools top athletes till MORFS changed him. It had given him a hunched back and foreshortened limbs which made it hard to run like he used to. He had taken this set back in his stride and bounced back. Unless you are really really good at sports, you end up as a salesman or insurance agent if you can’t do anything else. Universities look for good test scores too, not sporting prowess, so he always had the academic side to fall back on, after all he had always had more to him than just sports. After MORFS, he refocused his efforts on more studious pursuits. Still a lot of his previous friends shunned him, partly down to his altered form, and partly down to his inability to bring home the track trophies. His previous girlfriend Stacy was fiercely anti-MORFS and had rejected him quite violently on hearing of his change. As far as I know she had never spoken to him again. He now seems to view this as something positive, saying ‘he was well shot of her’.  

On the left of him sat Jonesy or Steven Jones as his passport said. He was a large slightly overweight ginger haired boy, who so far had not undergone MORFS. He was completely obsessed with a recent TV show, Violet Dawn, about a young girl whose entire family are killed by a criminal gang. She gains super powers through MORFS then goes on to fight crime, trying to avenge her family by night, while still pretending to be a normal school girl by day. He had transfers all over his bag, all the merchandise pens, books, stickers, holograms, action figures, ring tones and backgrounds for his mobile, and numerous pictures of the actress who played Violet. She had been somewhat controversial due to being genuinely a MORFS survivor, although her changes were nothing like the fictional Miss Dawn. Apparently she had a very low level power, an elemental or something. He would often attempt to relate all information in terms of his favourite show and could talk for hours on the subject should you be foolish enough to ask.

Next to Jonesy was Paul Smith, a small kid with glasses, who had fine dark hair all over his face. He had the rather unimaginative nickname of ‘Mole’ in certain quarters. A year or so ago he had gained the appearance of a mole with fine dark hair, hands adapted to digging, and slightly prominent front teeth. He had been bullied relentlessly and not been very happy of late. The library was the only safe haven where he could relax. He was a nice guy and good friend, so it annoyed me that he was picked on as a result of his changes.

On the right of John sat Sally Black, the only girl in our group and as far as I knew she hadn't undergone MORFS. She was a reasonably pretty girl, but she was very into computers and electronics. She also had a habit of wearing fairly tomboyish clothes and having various bits of half finished tech hanging out of her pockets. This caused her to be categorised as weird by the rest of the girls; however, I thought she was wonderful and was trying to work up the courage to ask her out. I wasn't entirely sure why she hung around with us, but I was glad she did.

I took the empty seat next to her and sat down.

"Hi guys," I said. "What's new?"

"Not much," replied John. "Jonesy was just updating us with the latest happenings in his favourite show."

I groaned inwardly, Jonesy could talk about a new episode for days after the broadcast, seemingly unable or unwilling to realise no one else was interested.

"Did you catch it Tom?" Jonesy asked excitedly, on my shaken head he continued, "Oh you should have. It was the episode where Violet finally confronts one of her family’s killers. I have it recorded if you want to borrow it?"

To which Sally gave a snort of amusement, he was always trying to get the rest of us into it, with no luck so far. I had watched it a few times it was OK, it was a popcorn show: tastes good but ultimately hot air with very little substance. I just couldn't manifest the same level of almost religious zeal about it as Jonesy.

"Maybe some other time," I said diplomatically. "So how are you lot doing on your English course work?"

"Done it," said Sally distractedly, she had pulled a gadget of some description out of one of her coat pockets and was dismantling it with a set of screw drivers. "Wrote about the guy who invented television."

"The rest of us are still working on it," said Paul. "How's yours coming?"

"I've still got another few hundred words to write," I answered.

I pulled out my work book, and began writing. I got about half way through a page when I got a terrible headache. I dropped my pen and clasped my head as the pain gripped me, as if someone was stabbing hot daggers into my head.

"Are you alright Tom?" asked Sally.

"Just a headache," I replied.

The headache passed and I carried on with my work. A few minutes later I suddenly started feeling increasing unwell.

"You're not looking so good," observed John. "You sure you're OK man?"

I was about to answer when I suddenly felt like I was going to throw up. I ran over to the gents, and was sick several times into the toilet. After the nausea passed, I cleaned myself up, and headed back to where my friends were. I was feeling increasingly wobbly on my feet, my headache was back again.

"You look like shit," Sally observed, briefly looking up from what ever she was working on.

"Yeah you look pretty bad, are you sick or something?" asked Paul.

I glanced up and said, "I think I've got the flu or something."

"Maybe you've been poisoned. In episode 14 Violet got sick due to being hit by a toxic dart. Your symptoms remind me of that," Jonesy chipped in gleefully.

John fixed Jonesy with an annoyed stare, "I would imagine Tom would remember being stuck by a toxic dart, and that would have come to mind before flu."

"Violet didn't know either, we should check him for small puncture wounds," replied Jonesy, to which John just shook his head, Sally rolled her eyes.

"You better go see the school nurse," Paul said.

"Silly cow will probably just recommend he sits by an open window," snorted Sally.

I packed up my stuff and stood up. As I started to make my way out I stumbled and nearly fell. Sally was beside me holding me up in a flash.

"Easy there, you guys look after my stuff, I'll help Tom get to the Nurse," she said.

She put my arm over her shoulder and helped me out the door. On any other day, being so close to her, having my arm round her, would have been my idea of heaven. But I was too sick to enjoy it.

My muscles were now painful, making walking difficult. Sally helped me move slowly towards the Nurses office.

On the way we had the misfortune to encounter one of the worst bullies in school. Mark Jackson was the sort of thug who took great pleasure in hurting and humiliating people. In fact the only thing he liked better was doing so in front of an audience. Today he was with only one of his usual compliment of three henchmen. Brian Daniels was a skinny, sadistic, little worm, who on his own was fairly harmless, but with Mark around, he acted to encourage the larger boy, making him more violent.

"What do we have here, Gadget girl's got herself a boy toy," sneered Mark.
 
"She should have stuck with things that take batteries they last longer," cackled Brian.

Mark shoved me down and grabbed Sally by the shoulders. She struggled in his grip trying to get free.

"Leave her alone," I shouted. Staggering to my feet, trying to help Sally.

Mark let Sally go and rounded on me. He gave me a hard punch to the chest and then one to the stomach. This wasn't the wisest move against someone who wasn't feeling well, as I promptly threw up all over him. I was quite surprised by how much stuff was still left in my stomach, since it covered his face and was all down his front. He stood there for a bit stunned, a look of horror and disgust on his face. He seemed to come out of his shock and rage showed on his face, his fists clenching in anger.

Then there was the sound of a girls laughter from somewhere behind him. He spun round to attack whoever was mocking him and found himself staring at a 7ft tall girl with purple hair. It was Dorothy Newman a girl from the year below, but even at only 15 she was one of the tallest and strongest people in the school. She was known for taking a dim view of bullying and was more than capable of making her displeasure known physically.

"This is none of your concern Newman!" Mark said, trying his best to sound intimidating.

Not phased at all Dorothy replied, "Why don't you go get yourself cleaned up, and leave these two alone."

You could practically hear the cogs turning in Mark's head. He wanted to hurt me badly, but Dorothy was not likely to let him get away with it. He scowled angrily at Dorothy, then me, and finally moved off. I knew at the first opportunity, he would make me pay for this. Still Dorothy had won me a temporary reprieve, I was grateful for that much.

"Thank you," I said weakly.

"No problem, can't think of anyone I'd rather see thrown up over," she joked. "You should go see the nurse though, you look pretty green."

"We were just on our way there before those clowns showed up," Sally said.

"Well you should be clear now. I'll let you get on," she said with a smile, and headed off.

Sally helped me the rest of the way to the Nurses office without further event. It was a small room in the main school building that had very basic medical facilities since the school could only provide basic first aid. The nurse herself was a reasonably pleasant woman, if somewhat cynical. But I guess the constant stream of people trying to fake being ill took its toll.

"What do we have here then?" the nurse asked, as Sally helped me into the office.

"Tom's not feeling well. He's been sick a couple of times," Sally replied.

"I see, well you run along to your next lesson. I'll see to your friend here," the nurse said.

Sally gave me a squeeze on the arm then dashed off. The nurse quizzed me about my symptoms then took my temperature. When she was satisfied I wasn't faking she rang my parents. My Dad was able to come get me, while managing to get a last minute appointment at the doctors, so when he picked me up he drove me straight over. We waited a short while in the doctor’s waiting room, by this point I was feeling too unwell to do much besides sit there and try not to throw up.

Eventually we were called in. The doctor, a nice lady by the name of Doctor Morris, got to finding out what was wrong. She didn't do a lot of the doctoring stuff I had expected, after I described my symptoms she got a funny look on her face, went over and rummaged round in a drawer. She came back with a small kit.

"I think I know what might be wrong. I just need to do a simple blood test to check, is that OK?" she asked.

I nodded, as she took a small pin out of a sealed packet in the kit. She slipped on some gloves, pricked my finger holding it so the blood dripped into a small tester kit. She put a small plaster over the wound. She fiddled about for a bit with the kit, and then she nodded to herself and looked up.

"It's as I suspected, you are entering the first stages of Massive Ontogenetic Regulation Failure Syndrome, which you may have heard shortened to MORFS. Do you know much about MORFS Tom?" she asked.

Still a bit shaken by her diagnosis at first, I couldn't speak then I spluttered out, "We studied it in biology last year."

She gave me a smile, "So you'll know the basics, I have some information packs for you and your family so you know what to expect. I'm going to prescribe you a course of transition packs, they contain a drink that has various nutrients that your body will need and some sleeping pills to make you more comfortable during the change. It will make MORFS run through much quicker and easier. You will be out for at least a week depending on the severity of any change."

She turned to my Dad and continued, "You'll need to tell his school that he'll be out for at least a week. Once it has run its course get him booked in for an appointment at a post MORFS centre. There is a number for the local one in the information pack, they can give him a check up and give any specialist care required. The information pack details what to expect as MORFS runs its course and some things to watch out for."

She handed Dad a card with a phone number printed on it and a prescription. She then reached into a box under her desk and took out a small booklet and handed it to me. It was titled 'MORFS and You'. “The booklet contains information for both Tom and you. So I suggest you both read it carefully. If you have any problems or concerns give me a call my number is on that card,” she said then stood up to shake both our hands.

We left the clinic and wandered over to the nearest pharmacy to pick up the drugs. I was still in a daze, I had always accepted I might get MORFS, but it was still a shock. Since a few of my friends had under gone it before I knew it wasn't the end of the world, but I knew it could change things. Would my friends still like me if I changed radically? I was pretty sure they would, a few of them had already undergone it, so I expected they would be pretty understanding. But, could I win Sally's heart if I was someone completely different? Well since I didn't know if I could win it in my current shape, I guess it was hard to say. We got back to the car and I continued my internal monologue debating what would happen to me.

Perhaps sensing my somewhat dark mood my Dad tried to engage me in conversation, "You're awful quiet there Son. Are you alright?"

"Just thinking," I said.

"Well don't you go worrying too much. I'm sure things will turn out fine."

"I know, it's just a bit oppressive to have this change hanging over me, not knowing who I'll become. I like who I am."

"You'll still be you, Son. Just maybe a little different on the outside."

I nodded, I hoped he was right and there was bugger all I could do about it anyway. The die was cast, now all I had to do was wait to see what the final result was.

We got home and then read the booklet through, I largely knew what to expect. Various friends had told me about their changes and what it was like. I knew I would spend the next week or so mostly asleep. I was still feeling very shocked by the whole thing, I felt trapped. I wanted to run away but there was nothing I could do about it.

After we had read the instructions, I went straight up to bed. Dad handed me a dose of the drink and a pill, I gulped it down. It was revolting like bitter, salty, raw egg. I settled in, soon the sleeping pill knocked me out.

I woke up in the next day, I felt all icky like I was covered in gunk. I staggered out of bed a little disorientated, and wandered along to the bathroom. I took a good look at myself in the mirror, I couldn't see anything immediately off in my appearance. I took a shower, I noticed that what little body hair I had grown in the past few years had fallen out and my skin felt softer. I finished my shower dried myself and tried not to think what that might mean.

I padded back to my room, put some fresh sheets on the bed, and changed into some new night clothes. I was about to take another hit of my super happy fun knock-out juice when my Mum walked in.

"How are you feeling sweet heart?" she asked with a worried look.

"OK," I replied. "Still ill, but hanging in there"

"Well let's get you tucked up into bed get this whole change thing finished with," she said giving me a hug.

I forced another of the energy drinks down and popped the pill. Soon I was drifting off to sleep again.

Another day went by. When I came to, my hair was in my eyes. Well, I assumed it was my hair, even if it was purple. I got up to investigate. Once locked in the bathroom, I could see my normally dark brown hair had changed colour at the roots and grown out to about ear length. On closer inspection the colour was more violet than purple. I checked for any other changes, my night clothes seemed to be tighter around the hips but that seemed to be about it. I washed up then headed back to my bed room, some one had left some clean sheets and night clothes out. I changed the sheets and my clothes and took another dose of meds and crashed.

The next day dawned and with it more changes my hips were definitely wider and the face staring back at me in the mirror was different, softer some how. My violet hair now reached my neck and violet hairs seemed to be replacing the brown ones in my eyebrows. When showering my nipples seemed more sensitive, they looked slightly swollen. I did not like the direction the changes were taking. I changed my sheets and hit the sack, dreading what changes tomorrow would bring.

I woke up feeling a weight on my chest. I looked down to see a pair of smallish breasts pushing up the fabric of my t shirt. Though I had half guessed they might be coming, given my increasingly girlish proportions, it was still a shock.

I lay there for a bit staring at them. I figured my chances with Sally had just taken a nose dive, well unless she liked girls, was I a girl though. A quick check revealed that I wasn't, but judging by the shrunken state of my manhood, I might be tomorrow. I decided I better check out the rest of the damage. My violet hair was now down to my shoulders, my eyes now shared the same colouration. My face was more feminine, my lips seemed plumper. My breasts handfuls (although my hands seemed smaller) capped with light pink nipples. I had my shower, and headed back straight for bed. As I was just about to take my meds as I heard voices.

"Have you seen him this morning?" Mum said.

"I glanced in earlier, it's going to take some getting used to," Dad replied.

"I hope he is going to be alright."

"We'll be there for him, or her, as the case may be. I'm sure together we can help Tom come through this."

"Yeah the way he looks isn't going to stop us from loving him. I just hope he realises that."

"Come on let's let him sleep."

Footsteps diminished off downstairs, I felt a little better knowing my parents still cared about me. For once I went off to sleep with a smile on my face.

Come the next day, the sickness was gone, I had finished with my changes. But it seemed like MORFS had gone all out in the last stretch to get rid of any trace of the old me. The first thing I noticed was my breasts were huge, I wasn't sure what size but they were significantly larger than the previous day. I walked along to the bathroom having some difficulty with my balance, my centre of gravity had shifted, bits of me were jiggling in ways that were most distracting. I had a look in the mirror, a drop dead gorgeous naked girl stared back.

I had violet hair down to just under my shoulders, my eyebrows and eyes were the same shade. My face was lovely with a small cute nose, reasonably high cheek bones, and luscious full lips. I brought my hands up to touch my new face, my skin was so soft and smooth. I noticed my nails were now the same colour as my hair they looked polished. My arms were slim and delicate.

I ran my hands down my body, assessing my new shape. My body was wonderfully curvy with large breasts, a small waist, wide hips, and a nice shapely behind. My proportions were amazing, but stopped just short of being comical or exaggerated. My crotch was definitely feminine with the same violet hair. I avoided touching myself there it being too much at the moment.

As I ran my hands over my skin I marvelled at how pale and smooth it was, with no blemishes or hairs. I twisted to see my profile, feeling my body shift in ways it never did before. My hair seemed to sparkle in the light, my eyes wide with surprise flared as the light caught them with their almost iridescent shade of violet. My legs looked longer, but I didn't seem to have changed in height at all so it must have been the alteration to the rest of my shape that made it look that way.

Damn I was hot. I wasn't sure I had ever seen such an incredible looking girl.

I felt weak at the knees, I had to sit down on the toilet to keep from falling down. How was I going to live like this.

I sat there for a while looking at myself, after the initial shock had passed I stood up again. I had a shower, running my hands all over my amazing new body marvelling at its sensitivity and the feel of my new shape. Copping a feel of my own goods made me feel oddly guilty.

After my shower I wrapped up in a towel and continued to stare at myself, the reality of what I had become was beginning to sink in. What would people think knowing who I used to be? What would my friends think? What would Sally think? I doubted she would want me like this.

I padded back to my room and sat on the bed. I was emotionally numb, life had just dealt me a fairly lousy hand. I didn't want to be a girl I had spent the last 16 years trying to work out how to be a boy, I didn't want to have to start from scratch. Still there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it, and half the population got on fine as girls.

I tried to look on the bright side. Though I was a girl, I was a fairly normal one, bar the hair eye and nail colour. Some people had to live with hybrid features, or other deformities. Plus I was hot, which seemed like a good thing, to be honest it was too early to tell for sure. I still didn't feel much better, I decided I had better keep busy to distract myself a bit. Maybe if I covered my strange new body up a bit it would be less distracting.

I ransacked my clothing drawers to see if I could find something to wear. Although my general size had not changed, the redistribution of mass made finding things that fit me hard. I eventually managed to sort out an outfit that more or less fitted. I wore a pair of boxer shorts as underwear, they were very tight around my larger rear but were the only things that even vaguely fitted. I wore an extra large plain white T-shirt I used to use to sleep in. It was very tight around my boobs, such that it only just reached my waist. I rounded the outfit off with a track suit with a zip up top and drawstring bottom, the only thing I had stretchy enough to accommodate my new hips without being ridiculously loose around my tiny waist. The top almost wouldn't do up but it just about went. Shoes and socks were the only easy items, as my feet seemed to be more delicately shaped but not a radically different size. I looked in my small mirror even in this ridiculous get up I still looked amazing. I ran a comb through my hair, at the very tips it was still brown where my old hair had grown out.

I headed towards the door to my room, I would go down stairs to see if I could find my parents. I stopped and collapsed to the floor suddenly unable to go out like this, just over come by my situation not wanting to face anyone in this strange new form. I sat there for a few minutes, taking deep breaths, feeling on the verge of crying making strange moaning noises. Some how I managed to find the will to stand up again. My balance was way off, my boobs pulling me forward while my much more weighty hips and pelvis altered my gait. I steadied myself and then opened the door.

I wandered down the corridor every step reminding me of my change, what with the tendency of my new hips to sway and the jiggle of my breasts and arse. I also had a tendency to bump into things not knowing the extents of my new shape. I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen where I could see my Mum drying a few plates.

Obviously having heard me come down the stairs, she addressed me without turning round, "Is that you sweet heart, are you feeling better?"

"Yes much better," I replied. I was a bit surprised to find that I had a soft girl's voice, a touch higher than before. I guess given the rest of me I shouldn't have been, but it was still a little shocking to hear a different voice to the one I was used to coming out of my mouth.

I wasn't the only one shocked by this, my Mum's head snapped round the moment I spoke. When she saw me in all my glory she dropped the plate she was drying. Her mouth and eyes went wide, a slight high pitched exclamation of surprise escaped her lips. This and the shattering plate brought Dad running.

He ran into the room spluttering, "What is it, what's happened?"

He saw me too and adopted a similar expression.

I was getting very uncomfortable with them just staring at me saying nothing.

My Dad hesitantly said, “Well, you look er ... nice?”

“You look ... very ...” Mum tried and continued to look me up and down.

I did know what to say to them as they eyed new body. I got more and more distressed. I could take it no more, I burst into tears and ran back to my room. My relatively unrestrained chest made that a painful experience but I was too upset to care. I collapsed by my bed sobbing. There was a knock at the door.

"Sweetie can I come in?" Mum asked, when I didn't reply the door opened, and Mum walked in. She came down to where I was sitting putting her arms around me.

"I'm sorry for staring like that sweet heart it was just a bit of a shock to see you. We had been looking in to see how you were doing but neither of us had quite realised how much you had changed. You are very pretty now you know," Mum said.

I sat there crying in her arms feeling totally ruined. All of a sudden the tears dried up like a switch has been flipped in my head and I was back in a numb state. I replied in an even tone, "I don't want to be."

"I know sweetie. Come on let's go have a nice cup of tea."

She took my hand, led me back down the stairs, and sat me down at the table. Then went off to make the tea. Dad sat down next to me, trying to not stare. I just sat there unsure what to do, so I examined my new nails. They were slightly longer than they had been before and slightly sharper. Their iridescent purple colour was very odd, they looked like they were made of some sort of exotic shell with their pearlescent sheen. I felt them, they were a bit like shells, much harder, tougher, and sharper than normal nails. I experimentally jabbed them at the table.

Mum came back with the tea and saw what I was doing. "Stop that dear, you'll ruin the table top," she said. I realised I had cut some deep scratches in the table.

Mum handed me a cup of tea and I drank a bit in silence. It did make me feel a bit better.

"So, feeling better now?" Mum asked.

"A little bit," I replied.

"Well there is plenty to do today, I'm glad I arranged some time off now there is so much to sort out. First things first we need to sort out some new clothes for you. I doubt there's much in your current wardrobe that will fit your new figure."

I shifted uncomfortably at the thought.

"I know you are not comfortable with your new shape, but you need to have clothes that will fit it. Especially for when you head back to school," she said.

The mention of going back to school was too much, I was suddenly crying again. Mum rushed over and held me close to her.

"Oh there there, come on it's not so bad," she softly tried to comfort me.

"But every thing's ruined I knew where I was, and what to do. Now I have to start everything all over again. I have this stupid girl’s body, and I don't want to be a girl," I sobbed.

"It'll be alright sweetie you'll see, I know things look dark now but in no time you'll be back on your feet again."

She held me tight, Dad put his hand over mine gently rubbing it. As quickly as they had come the tears dried up. Mum hugged me a bit more then let me go and sat back down. She smiled at me and took my other hand.

"What ever happens don't forget we still love you and will help you through this," she smiled and squeezed my hand. I tried to give both her and Dad a brief smile.
 
As she was letting go of my hand, she caught my nails. "Ouch, those things are sharp, we should cut them back a bit or you'll hurt yourself."

"You can try but they are pretty tough like shell or something," I pointed out.

"So not only do you have perfectly colour coordinated nails with that fabulous shade, but they are unbreakable as well. I'm jealous."

The comment started to get me upset again, but I fought the impending tears down.

"While you two take care of the clothing issue. I'll see about getting an appointment at the post MORFS centre to get you checked out, they can be quite busy so I would guess tomorrow is the best we can hope for. One thing you should think about, while your mother drags you round every clothing shop in the county, is what to call yourself now. I'm afraid Tom doesn't really suit you any more," Dad said.

"We both agreed your new name should be your choice," said Mum continuing with, "But we did have a suggestion for you to consider. Before we found out you were going to be a boy we had picked both boy and girl names, Tom if you were a boy, Jennifer if you were a girl. We just wanted you to consider it as an option."

"OK I'll bear that in mind," I said.

The very thought of having to pick out a new name was profoundly disturbing. It was drawing a line under everything I was before, and starting again. But staying as Tom seemed unlikely to work. We finished our tea, and then Mum and I got started with the shopping. We headed out to the local shopping centre, as we were heading out the door Dad pulled Mum aside and had a quiet chat. Though not quiet enough for me not to hear.

"I know your keen to get all those mother daughter shopping trip fantasies out now that you have a daughter to subject to them," he said with a smile, which caused Mum to give him a mock punch. "But go easy on Tom. He seems pretty fragile, and has gone through a hell of a traumatic experience. There’ll be time for torturing him with pink frilly frocks later."

"OK, I'll try to not go over board on the girlie stuff. I'm going to try and make sure all the stuff I get is proper feminine cut clothes to get Tom used to it, but I'll try not to go too far. We can save the full on shopping trip for when you can come, we'll make a weekend of it," she stuck her tongue out and he looked afraid, then laughed. They kissed then we headed out the door.


 

Ch2 - Shopping Trip
(Tom)

We took my Mums car and headed over to the town centre.

Once there Mum turned to me and regarded me intently then said, "Right let’s get that hair taken care of first."

She guided me into a unisex hairdresser and after some negotiation arranged for a haircut. We sat down to wait for a hairdresser to become free, I picked up one of the computer magazines to read. After a short while Mum leaned over and said into my ear, "Close your legs dear, try to sit with them crossed or knees together."

I blinked and looked at the way I was sitting with my legs wide open slouched down in my seat. Not exactly the most lady-like position. At first I was a bit annoyed at having to change the way I sat, then I realized I would attract attention, which was the last thing I wanted. So I shifted and crossed my legs, some thing I had never done as a boy since it was not usually very comfortable. I continued reading my magazine till it was our turn. I was waved over to a chair where a young woman waited.

On seeing me she exclaimed, "Oh, what a fabulous colour where you get it done."

"I didn't," I replied bitterly. "It's natural."

"Ah I see. So what shall I do for her," she said turning to Mum.

"Well, we need the old ends trimming off then I think we need it tidying a bit." Mum replied.

"But I'd ..." I started but she cut me off.

"I know you'd like it short again sweetie but why don't you at least try it long for a bit. Look at it this way normally it would take a long time to get hair that length. You get to try it out without having to wait for it to grow. We can always cut it shorter later." she reasoned.

"OK, I suppose," I wasn't sold completely on the idea but I could always hack it off with the kitchen scissors later.

After this the hairdresser went to work. I watched as she trimmed away my old hair and cut my purple locks into shape. When she was done my hair hung in such a way that it framed my face better it made my eyes stand out more. I wasn't sure I liked it. We left and headed on to the next stop, the underwear shop.
I wanted to escape but having experienced moving about with my new shape I knew that a bra was going to be a necessity. Mum set up a fitting with the sales assistant since we didn't know my sizes.
We were whisked off to the changing rooms and I was told to undress. The lady gave me a funny look when she saw I was wearing boxer shorts but she said nothing. I soon knew I was a double D cup a truly colossal size to my mind. Mum had the lady measure my hips while we were at it so we could get some more appropriate underwear. After some extremely embarrassing bouts of trying things on we had a bag filled with unmentionables including some sports bras that Mum insisted I would need for school. I was now also kitted out in girls' underwear, though it felt very odd the extra support was welcome.
  
We proceeded to get some more girl clothes true to her word Mum didn't push me too hard with no pink and very few skirts. All the clothes were obviously for a girl and showed off my new figure to a degree, but they weren't too bad. At the end I had enough clothes for most situations including school clothes and full gym kit. I guessed Mum must have found out what the school dress code for girls was. She had me change into one of the outfits a light blue T-shirt that clung to my new bosom a little too closely for my liking, dark blue jeans that hugged my hips a touch though they were not especially tight, and a loose black top that zipped up at the front. The change was interesting with the proper girl clothes I looked even more attractive. They accentuated my curves making my new body look even more girlish. When my Mum first saw me she pulled me into a hug and kissed me, "You're beautiful," she said.

I didn't know what to say as I knew what I looked like, I just didn't like it. Mum on seeing my forlorn expression and down cast eyes at her words gave me another hug. "Come on we deserve a treat after all that hard work, we'll have a nice cup of coffee," she said.

We wandered to a nearby coffee shop, we ordered a few cappuccinos and some chocolate cake. Mum made some comment about me needing to watch my figure when getting the cake, I gave her an annoyed glare. It was bad enough that I was lumbered with this girls' body, now I was expected to starve myself to keep it thin. I had a good mind to make myself fat just to exert some sort of control over things. It was early evening time by now and so there were a fair number of people about. As we sat drinking our coffees and eating our cake, I began to notice a lot of glances in my direction. I realised I was being checked out by nearly every man in the vicinity and even a few girls. It occurred to me that I was now one of those hot girls that gave people whiplash as they turned to check them out as they walked past. I hated the attention it was like I could feel the people’s eyes roaming over every inch of my new flesh. I tried to hide myself by scrunching up.

Mum saw what I was doing and asked me, "What are you doing sweet heart?"

"They keep looking at me," I replied.

"Well you are very attractive darling, just try and ignore it."

"I don't like it, why can't they leave me alone!" By this point I was getting close to tears again.

Mum was about to reply when someone came over. It was my worst nightmare, Sally had been out shopping seen Mum and come over. I wasn't ready for this, what would I say? What would she think of me now? She gave me a glance then turned to my Mum.

"Hi Mrs Rivers I'm a friend of Toms from school. I was just wandering if Tom was alright he’s not been into school for a few days," Sally said. I sat my jaw open a look of pure terror on my face.

"Well he's been down with MORFS for the past few days or so, but he came out of it this morning," Mum said.

"How is he doing?"

"Well... Why don't you ask him yourself," she said pointing in my direction.

Sally's eyes went wide, "Tom?" she asked.

"Yeah," I replied barely able to speak.

"My goodness you look..." she paused seemingly unable to put it into words, ”Different, incredible."

She stood there staring at me looking up and down me, examining every inch of my new body. She shook her head as if to clear it.

"Are you OK?" she asked.

"I've been better," I replied tears in my eyes.

Sally sat down next to me and put her arm around me, "It'll be alright."

"Sally!" a voice called out.

"That's my Mum I've got to go," she said giving me one last lingering look. "I'll see you at school. You do look really good," she gave me a smile then dashed off.

"She seemed nice," Mum observed.

"I wanted to ask her out. But there's no way she'd want me now," I was in such a state of shock that I didn't care that I was telling my Mum things I would have been supremely embarrassed to tell her just a few days ago.

"Oh sweetheart, don't cry," she said. I didn’t even realised I was. "I know things look bleak now but you'll get back on your feet again."

We sat there a few people staring at the pretty crying girl I had become. I could see her in one of the mirrors opposite, I hated her she had ruined everything good in my life.

It was getting reasonably late so Mum suggested head back. Mum helped me up and we headed home. When we got back I was still crying, I sat down at the dinner table head in hands. I heard my Dad walk into the kitchen where Mum was.

"Is he alright?" I heard him say.

"I don't know, he met one of his friends and after she was gone went to pieces. It's been a trying day. I'm sure it'll get better with time," Mum answered.

They both came and sat down with me, by now my tears had dried up again.

Mum put her hand over mine then asked, "Feeling better sweetie?"

"No, I just ran out of tears," I replied.

"Well I got you an appointment tomorrow for the post MORFS centre. So you don't have to go to school for at least another day," Dad said.

"Did you give any thought to a new name?" Mum asked.

"I don't know, Jennifer is fine I guess, it's the sort of name a girl like this would have. She'd probably shorten it to Jen or some other stupid thing," I was crying again.

I pushed back from the table and ran up to my room I scrunched myself up under my desk not wanting to be seen, my position caused my new breasts to push into my knees a constant reminder of my new shape.

Mum came and found me a short while later, she climbed under the desk and held me.

After a while she said, "Come on lets head down and have some dinner, it will make you feel better."

I followed her and ate some food it did make me feel a bit better. I had an early night I was out pretty quick simply exhausted from the stressful day.

I woke up Thursday hoping it had all been a bad dream. I knew straight away by the purple hair in my eyes and the weight on my chest that it wasn't so, but I had a few moments when I was not quite awake where I could almost fool myself. It was the high point of my day.

I put on some of my new clothes, bad-temperedly refusing any offers of help to do up the various unfamiliar garments, and stomped down the stairs in an extremely dark mood. I was angry, upset, and weepy all at the same time. I both wanted to be with my parents for the support and comfort they would give, but also alone raging at the injustice of this change or crying my eyes out for what I'd lost.

I can't imagine I was much fun to be around. I ate my usual breakfast of cereal, it didn't seem to fill me up though. My long hair was a right pain, it seemed to get in everything I was constantly getting it in my mouth or in the way of my eyes, I resolved to get it cut short or at least tie it back with something.

After I was done we headed over to the centre for my appointment, Mum took me as Dad had some things to do. I was still pretty exhausted both physically and emotionally. The wait for our appointment wasn't long I spent it staring of into space, too drained to do anything else. I barely took in anything at all till we were in the Doctors office and she was asking me questions directly. The doctor was a pretty blond lady who insisted I call her Sarah.

"So Tom you seem to have undergone a fairly radical change." she said. I shrugged. "Have you noticed anything odd?"

"Other than the fact that I'm a girl with big tits and purple hair you mean?" I said anger flaring briefly making me feel odd like something was stirring in me. Then as soon as the feeling came it went, I started crying silently. Mum put her arm around my shoulder.

"Well let's have a look at you then," Sarah said ignoring my out burst still maintaining a cheerful demeanour.

She took blood pressure weighed me measured me, had me strip then poked me in all sorts of embarrassing places. Finally she had me lie under a scanner of some description then had me dress again. After that she sat analysing the results.

"Well Tom as far as I can tell you are a normal healthy young woman. The only slight anomaly is a heightened metabolism you may well find you need more food than normal. It will moderately increase your healing rate and you should have no trouble staying thin," she said.

 'Well there goes my plan to get fat.  Stupid body!' I thought, a scowl forming on my face. My new body had even ruined my slightly childish ideas for acts of rebellion against my MORFS imposed shape and what people expected of me because of it.

 " Your nails are pretty tough, they seem to be made from nacre, like shells or pearls. You'll need a heavy duty file to trim them, they are pretty sharp so be careful. That's about all the physical differences. I'll have a colleague, who is a telepath, check for any alterations my tests can't spot," she said, picking up a phone.

A short while later a smiling little woman walked in, she was introduced as Anna. She asked me to relax. I felt a strange flutter in my head.

"Hmm," Anna said. "There is something there but I can't tell what it is, it's possible you are still developing not unusual for someone in stage 3 of MORFS. You should be careful."

"I've noticed since her change that she's had a lot of mood swings is that normal?" Mum asked I noticed now I was officially a girl rather than merely possibly one: she had changed pronouns.

"It's not unusual," said Sarah. "She has gone through not only a massive change but is suddenly in a body coursing with new hormones that she is not used to. It will take a while to find a new equilibrium. It could also be related to her new metabolism. A lack of food can cause mood swings and she will likely need more calories than she is used to."

"We offer counselling to people who have undergone such alterations to help them adjust to their new life, and for those like Tom we offer help in fitting in with their new gender," Anna said. Then turned to me, "I know you are very confused and scared right now Tom, but we can help you find your way. A first good step is picking a new name."

"Jennifer," I said.

"Are you sure sweetie it doesn't have to be the one we suggested," said Mum. I just nodded not wanting to speak anymore, I wanted it to be over so I could hide away.

"OK, I'll get the paper work," said Sarah.

A short while later I was in the system as Jennifer Rivers, female. I had the full compliment of ID and the school had been updated with my new status. I was now officially a girl. We went back home, I went up to my room and sat staring at myself in the mirror. I took all the old pictures I had of me took one last look and threw them in the bin, it would only hurt me to look at them. I hated what had happened to me.

A short while later there was a knock on the door and my Mum walked in.

“Sweet heart why don't we sort out your old clothes?” suggested Mum.

I grumbled by way of a reply. It was silly really most of my old clothes were useless to me now but I still felt like I wanted to cling to them. I helped sort through my clothes for what I could keep and what was of no use to me any more. As we were doing this Mum saw all the photos in the bin.

“Why have you thrown all your photos out?” she asked picking them up.

“It's not me any more, I don't want to be reminded of what I've lost! The pictures will only hurt me,” I snapped back.

“You shouldn't throw these away sweetie, I know it feels bad now but maybe you won't feel that way later,” Mum said.

“You're right,” I said, which caused her to brighten briefly. “I shouldn't throw them away, I should burn them instead. Give them here!”

I held my hand out for her to give me the photos, but she just looked at me with a slightly hurt and worried expression for a while then said, “No I know you don't mean that, these were good times you will want to remember. I'm not going to let you destroy the good memories just because of how you feel now, you will regret it later. I'm going to take these and put them away. Maybe I'll give them back when you aren't so emotional and have calmed down a bit.”

I stared daggers at her anger welling up inside me making me feel very odd, good in some ways. I was preparing to launch into a tantrum about how they were my photos and I could burn them if I wanted to, when suddenly all the anger went out of me. I realised how horrible I was being for no good reason to someone who loved me and was only trying to help. I felt terrible and broke down crying.

Mum came over and just held me close, gently stroking my hair. Eventually the tears dried up and I tried to explain, “I'm sorry I just couldn't ...” I started but Mum put a finger on my lips then pulled me back into a hug.

“Shush darling, no need to explain. You are hurting and you are saying things you don't mean. I understand and don't blame you at all. Have a good cry and let it all out you'll feel much better,” she said.

She held me close as I cried in her arms. Eventually I had cried myself out for the time being and was feeling a bit better. I still hurt, but getting some of it out of me had made me feel not quite so raw and angry about it.

Mum gave me a kiss on the forehead hugged me tight once more then we started boxing up the rest of my clothes that no longer fitted. Almost everything I had was now no longer of any use to me. There were a few odds and sods that I could still squeeze into and a few things I refused to part with for sentimental reasons, which is a bit odd considering not five minutes ago I had been threatening to burn all my old photos as a link to the past and here I was clinging vehemently to some old coat or hat that I had been given by someone or other so acquired some significance. I guess it was probably more of the mood swings at work.

Once we were done sorting and boxing things up, we put the boxes in the hall to take to the charity shops. After that is was time for lunch, Mum had me help preparing sandwiches and such. I was once again quite hungry, I wondered if I would now need to snack at regular intervals due to my increased need for food. I guess I wouldn't be one of those girls constantly worrying over how many calories they were eating. If recent experience is anything to go on, more likely I would be a girl who was never seen without a snack in her mouth.

'This is going to drive Sally up the wall, I'll be thin yet constantly eating,' I thought, in a brief sparkle of amusement, till the implications of that hit me and I felt bad again.

I distracted myself by eating, and after quite a few sandwiches I was feeling moderately satisfied. Mum watched me munch through plates of sarnies with a vaguely disquieted look on her face but said nothing. Dad paid me no mind and just gave me the odd smile and a strange assessing look I had seen him use before but couldn't place.

After lunch Mum suggested she teach me about being a girl. I didn't like the idea one bit and this must have shown on my face. Surprisingly Dad stepped in, telling her that it could wait, pointing out that I had all the time in the world to learn about it. Mum gave him a look but eventually backed down.

We went and sat in the living room, Mum reading the Sunday paper, Dad sketching something or other. I watched some TV there was nothing on but it kept me distracted so I didn't fall back into my self pitying or angry moods. I was so distracted that I really didn't pay any attention to what was going on in the world around me, completely failing to notice my Dad leap up and run off to the garden for a good hour or so. I didn't even notice when he came back, set up his portable easel, and began painting something.

I whiled away the afternoon trying my best to not think of anything and only partly succeeding. It got to the point where even TV wasn't helping and I switched it off to try and find something else to do. At this point I noticed the easel and wandered over to see what Dad was up to, he didn't usually paint in the house one time he had spilled paint on the carpet and Mum had never let him hear the end of it. I looked at the canvas and found he had been painting me. The purple haired girl in the painting sitting awkwardly on a sofa, looked like the one I now saw in the mirror. She had an almost haunted sad look on her face. It was a very beautiful painting even if I didn't like the subject. I didn't say anything and went and sat back down on the sofa staring into space.

Dinner time came and I helped with things, I was kind of in a daze trying not to think about having to go back to school tomorrow among other things. Dinner was very quiet full of awkward silences. When we were done and had cleaned up, Mum helped me get my clothes ready for Monday then I got an early night.

Sooner than I had hoped Friday dawned and time to go back to school. I put on the school uniform, other than the fact I was wearing a bra and panties underneath it, there wasn't any real difference from when I was a boy. Girls had the option to wear skirts but other than that, the dress code was identical. My parents drove me up to Upper Wilynsford Secondary school and took me into the office so they could sort out any paper work. I think they were also worried about me, I hadn't been hiding my distress well.

The school secretary a short unpleasant woman named Mrs Donnal addressed us the moment we stepped into the room. "Yes what do you want?" she eyed me suspiciously.

"We are Mr and Mrs Rivers our son has just undergone MORFS, we are here to take care of any paper work," Dad said.

"Well where is he then? You should have brought him with you," she snapped.

"I'm right here," I said with some annoyance. It's not like we hadn't told them in advance.

"Oh so you're the one," her tone shifted to a more hostile note. "We were told that one of those kind would be coming back. Wouldn't have been allowed in my day."

She snorted and practically threw a stack of forms at my parents eyeing daggers at me, muttering things under her breath. Half an hour later we were done and I was off to my first class.

I was a few minutes late so the class was already in session when I got there. It was math, not one of my favourite subjects. I opened the door intent on just rushing to my seat but the teacher, Mr Griffiths a stern balding man in his early forties, stopped me. "Can I help you miss you are not in my class," he said. Every eye in the room was on me there were looks of lust on pretty much all the boys’ faces.

"Well I am in your class. I'm just a bit late as I was out with MORFS. I'm Tom Rivers." I said hesitantly.

The room erupted into chatter, Mr Griffiths seemed momentarily taken a back. Then he got a grip on himself and shouted, "Quiet!" He looked at me thoughtfully, "You're really Tom, they told me you were out with MORFS but even then this is a surprise."

"Yes I'm Tom, well my name is Jennifer now," I answered.

"Indeed, well take your seat then Jennifer and we can get on," he said.

As I made my way to my seat people kept calling out stuff some fairly suggestive humour, the occasional insult, nothing that I liked, a few just stared at me with hate and disgust.

"I said quiet!" Mr Griffiths shouted. "You can talk to Miss Rivers on your own time."

Eventually everyone calmed down and I was paid less and less attention. I tried to get through the lesson without attracting any more attention. Eventually it was over and I was about to make for my next class when I was pulled up short by Mr Griffiths.

"How are you doing T ... Sorry Jennifer?" he asked, showing uncharacteristic warmth.

"I've been better sir," I replied, to which he nodded.

"This isn't something I tell everyone but I know how hard this sort of change can be, you see before I underwent MORFS I was a girl. So I have some idea what you are going through. If you ever need to talk with someone who understands don't hesitate to ask, and trust me it does get easier. Now run along you don't want to be late for your next lesson."

I was touched by his gesture of trust to tell me such a personal thing about himself, it made me feel better that there was some one who understood what it was like. I rushed off to the next lesson the now full corridors meant I was stared and various unpleasant things were called out to me. My sexy body attracting attention I just didn't want. The rest of the morning was pretty much a repeat of the first lesson though with gradually diminishing surprise as news spread.

By lunch I was worn out by the whole thing. Still I had my worst test to come my friends. I hoped Sally had softened the shock of it. After eating a large lunch in the canteen where I was quickly surrounded by many boys eager to try their luck with the new girl, I made my way over to the library to see the gang.

I saw the guys at our usual table there was no Sally in evidence. They didn't notice me till I got close. John regarded me with interest, Paul some suspicion, Jonesy with a look of something approaching awe. If his jaw was any further open it would be on the floor as it was I was sure he had dislocated it.

I steeled myself and said, "Hi."

"Are you lost, you must be new I don't remember seeing you before," said John.

I frowned this was going to be harder than I had thought I had hoped Sally would have paved the way for me. Maybe she hadn't been specific, "Sally didn't mention me?"

"We haven't seen her yet today, are you a new friend of hers then?" asked Paul.

"Yes and no, I am a friend but not a new one. You see ... I'm Tom." That got their attention. Paul still looked suspicious but he had been the victim of some pretty nasty jokes by the popular crowd and I looked like the sort of girl who would be in their circle. I continued, "You don't believe me ask me something."

Before Paul could think of something Jonesy piped up with, "You look just like Violet."

"I do not!" I said angrily

"Sure you do. The same dynamite figure the same hair and eyes," he said excitedly.

"Shit, he's right he's going to be intolerable," I spat with venom. It hadn't occurred to me the similarities between me and his favourite TV star. "Before you ask Jonesy I do not have her powers, nor the desire to fight crime in my underwear, and no I will not wear the suit from the show you bought off the internet."

John started laughing, "Yeah that's Tom alright."

Paul seemed to relax a bit and chuckled a bit, Jonesy had a vaguely disappointed look on his face.

"Man MORFS did a number on you Tom," John said with a look of sympathy.

"Yeah I know it, oh I'm called Jennifer now," I replied quietly.

"At least you're hot To ... Jen," said Jonesy. At harsh looks from both John and Paul he continued with, "I'm just saying if you're going to be a chick better to be a hot one with huge tits than an ugly one."

"Shut up Jonesy!" said John.

Jonesy shrugged then went back to staring at my new endowments.

I took a seat and tried to ignore him, he was getting me angry. It was doing strange things in my head, like a tickling sensation then fragmentary murmurs like a voice but out of hearing range. It faded to nothing almost as soon as I noticed it. Suddenly Sally crashed down in the seat next to me she put an arm round me in a little half hug.

"Hey beautiful, how are you doing," she said with a smile, having her call me that did strange things to my insides. She turned to the rest of the gang, "I see you've met our new girl."

"Yep, Jen reintroduced herself a little bit before you arrived," Paul said.

"Jen?" Sally queried.

"My new name is Jennifer," I explained.

"You should have gone with Violet," Jonesy suggested.

"Just because there is a passing resemblance with me and some bimbo TV actress doesn't mean I want to take the name of her character as my own."

"Besides I hear she uses loads of padding to get that figure and Jen's is all natural," Sally chipped in.

"She's not a bimbo," said Jonesy grumpily.

"Let's change the subject shall we," John said.

"So, did MORFS give you anything besides that killer bod?" Sally asked.

"Not that I'm aware of my nails are very tough and I have a heighten metabolism, but that's about it. I saw a telepath she didn't spot anything, but she didn't seem too sure," I replied.

"Bummer, though you are so hot it's practically a super power," Sally said staring at me almost as much as Jonesy.

After that things went almost back to normal except with people every now and again staring at me in a variety of ways from subtle to Jonesy's extremely obvious lecherous glances. I was pretty subdued barely saying any thing and most of the gang were a little held back. John made the effort to make sure I didn't feel left out without pushing me too much for which I was grateful. I guess it would take a while for them to get used to me but they seemed pretty accepting which lifted my spirits. The bell went and it was time for class again, we said our goodbyes, we were off to our next lessons. This one was one I shared with Sally so we walked together. I once again had to run the gauntlet of rude remarks and people making passes at me, but at least I was with a friend this time.

We were walking down a corridor to our classroom when the day took a turn for the worse. Mark Jackson was standing with Brian Daniels blocking our way, with them was Andy Flint another of the schools bullies, he specialised in hurting those who had undergone MORFS his family were religious nuts of some kind. I had never had trouble with him before, though some of his gang had worked me over a few times, I guess for practice. He was also Stacy Smith's boyfriend, the rabid anti MORFS girl who used to be Johns girlfriend before his change.

"Well look who it is, looks like old River boy turned himself into a fine piece of arse. If you were a real girl I'd be having me a piece of that. Must piss off gadget girl not getting it from your boy toy any more," said Mark leering at me.

"Maybe she prefers it this way though. I always thought she was a lesbian," sneered Brian.

We tried to back away but other thugs from Flint’s gang had surrounded us. I was getting very scared.

"Leave us alone you jerks," Sally said angrily. She made an attempt to push past but was slapped then pushed off into some lockers. She hit with a sickening thud.

Flint strode over grabbing me.

"You freaks need to be taught lesson," he spat.

He pulled his fist back to hit me, I looked away trying to shield myself and doing so caught Sally's eye, her own pain and fear showed in her eyes. Then I felt very strange, my terror was being overwhelmed by a burning anger, but it wasn't coming from me. I felt the world receding, my mind slipping back into the depths of my brain and this burning anger taking my place.

Just before I lost control completely I distinctly heard a voice in my head say, "I'll handle this." and then I was gone.

 

 

   

 

 

The entire MORFS  Universe can be found at http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/

 


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