The Wayfarer free porn video

There is actually a new universe in here, as anybody can be switched by the indian at the Wayfarer Inn. (By the way, the Wayfarer Inn is situated between the Professor's town of Ovid and Elizabeth Bennett's town of Zenith.) The Wayfarer by Raven and Caleb Jones That was it. I'd finally gotten tired of my life, packed up a few things, and hit the road. I wanted to start a new life somewhere else, where nobody knew me. I could be anybody I wanted to be. Anyone other than who I was. I figured I'd head out west, maybe go to Colorado. I always did like skiing. Why the hell not? My car was paid for, and my insurance paid up until the end of the year. After the last settlement, I had almost $100k in the bank. The time was now! I was out on the road, in the middle of Oklahoma, when I spotted a hitchiker. The closer I got, the more that I could see that it was a young, very beautiful girl. However, one feature stuck out more than any other. She looked as if she was about six or seven months pregnant. What was she doing out here in the middle of nowhere? There wasn't a town for at least a hundred miles. I usually will never stop to pick up hitchikers, but this one was different. This was no place for an expectant mother to be. I pulled to the side of the road, and rolled down the passenger side window. She came up along side my car, and poked her head in the window. The girl's extremely long hair tumbled down into the passenger seat. Her perfume filled the air of my car. "Where are you headed?" I asked her. "Just west . . . as far as I can get." "Well," I pondered, "I'm going as far as Colorado, you can go as far as I'm going." She smiled sweetly, flashing perfect white teeth before responding, "That would be great." When she opened the car door to get in, I asked, "Don't you have any baggage or luggage?" "No. I only carry the essentials in this knapsack," she stated, pointing to the knapsack. "Otherwise, I just make do as I can." We drove on for quite some distance. During the drive, I was able to find out that my passenger's name was Jenna. I introduced myself as Robert, or Robbie, as I preferred. For the most part we kept the conversation light. However, I couldn't ignore my concern for this girl. "Forgive me for asking, but you seem awfully young to be so pregnant. How old are you anyway?" I questioned her. There was a long period of silence. Finally, she realized that in order to continue riding, she would have to answer a few questions. Jenna sighed before telling me, "I'm only fifteen years old, and before you ask your next question, yes. . . I ran away from home." Oh no, my mind raced. This was exactly what I didn't need. I was trying to stay out of trouble. I could see why she could be pregnant. She looked like she could be between eighteen and twenty years of age. She was well developed for her age, and was stunningly beautiful. She was the kind of a girl whose looks would drive all of the boys, men for that matter, crazy! Although she was relatively short, maybe 5'2" or 5'3", she looked very adult. Jenna's breasts were large for a girl her age, and very likely would cause her to get a reputation as a school slut, even if she was the kind of girl who really didn't deserve it. Judging from her delicate condition, it appeared that she did earn such a reputation. Apart from the obvious bulge in her abdomen, the rest of Jenna appeared to be slender, even petite. She had a face that reminded me of every high school cheerleader that I ever lusted over when I was in school. Jenna had a heart shaped face, with high cheek bones. Her nose was that type of button upturned nose which plastic surgeons tried to copy, but could not. Topping it all of was cupid's bow lips that did not need any collagen additives, and piercing sky blue eyes. This was a face that many a man would fight over, but, unfortunately, also a face that looked like it didn't have an intelligent thought in its head. As I already noticed, Jenna had very long and thick hair. It was the kind of very light blonde hair that just begged to have someone's fingers run through it. There wasn't an ounce of curl to her hair. It was just long and straight like the type of hair that you would see on a California beach. However, we were in the almost out of Oklahoma. I suddenly remembered what Jenna had just told me, snapping me out of my mental appreciation of her physical charms. It wasn't appropriate that I was thinking of a fifteen year old girl in this way! Wanting to delve a little more into her current situation I asked, "Where's home?" "New Jersey. Your not going to turn me in are you? That would really be bad for me. You just don't understand what I've been through." I wanted to be sympathetic, but I was somewhat worried about becoming even more involved in the life of a stranger. "Why don't you tell me so I do understand. I won't do anything until you tell me your story." I found a little cafe along the side of the road. We stopped for a drink, and a quick meal. The poor girl looked like she hadn't eaten in days. The cafe was buzzing with activity from some Indians that lived at a nearby reservation. Nevertheless, I listened intently as Jenna told me the sad story of her life. It all started when her mother married for the second time. "For the first few months he was okay. I even started to like him. But then, my mother had to go on the road for a week to a convention which her company holds each year. She didn't think there would be any problems leaving the two of us alone for the week. She was so wrong." Jenna broke down and cried for a while. She continued after regaining her composure. "After she left, he got more and more tense. A couple of days later, after I went to sleep, he . . . he . . . he attacked me. I woke up and felt his weight on top of me. His hands were all over me. When it was over, he told me that if I ever told my mother, or the cops, he would make sure I wouldn't be able to testify in court. The next morning, he had three of his big friends over for brunch. He made sure that I overheard his friends reassure him that he could count on them to take care of things. He told them that if the little trouble he was in escalated, he would need some one hurt to stop them from talking. They all promised him all the help he needed. Then they talked about the time he had helped them after they got into trouble for beating up some guy." Again, Jenna had to pause for a moment to get her composure. I could now see why she was so upset. "He thanked them for their help, and then turned to wink at me where I was hiding in the closet. That wink sent a chill down my spine. I knew it was just a matter of time before something really terrible happened." "What happened next?" I questioned her. I hoped that the tone of my voice communicated the genuine concern that I felt for her situation. I touched her hand just in case. "After his friends left, he told me that if I breathed a word of what happened between he and I, they would make me suffer before hurting me.. They would warn me first by beating up my mother. I swore I would never tell anyone, and hoped that would be the end of it. It wasn't! It just got worse. He used that threat to fuck me every chance that he got. Then, I didn't get my period. I didn't get the next one, or the one after that. I waited until I started to show, then I ran away. My mother doesn't even know I'm pregnant. If I tell her why I left, he will hurt her . . . I just know it." She looked at me with those big sky blue eyes. They started tearing up again, and begged me not to send her back. I told her that I wouldn't put her back in that position, although I wasn't sure what I could do to help her out back home. We got back on the road again so that we could make the most of the daylight hours. We rode in silence after Jenna's heartbreaking revelations. There just didn't seem to be much to say. It did give me time to do some thinking. Eventually, I decided that we would have to get the authorities involved. I could make sure that she and her mother were as protected as possible, but it just wasn't right for a pregnant fifteen year old to be out on the road like this. She needed to be home with her mother. I was positive that Jenna would not approve of my plan! It was getting dark, so we pulled into a motel for the night. I could just as well have slept in my car, but thought that Jenna could use a good night's sleep on a soft mattress. We went to have a full dinner at a restaurant across the street. The restaurant, like the cafe further down the road, was bustling with activity from native americans. We were definitely in Indian country. As we ate, I tried to convince her to get the authorities involved, when we got further west. I told her that California had some pretty good laws in family matters. She could petition the courts to become an emancipated minor, or we could get her mother to come out here. Jenna got much too emotional. She firmly believed she would be sent home, and swore he wouldn't hurt her again. When I tried to press her on getting help again, she started to raise her voice. "You shouldn't be lecturing me. I'm the one who is going to have the baby, you know. I wish you knew what it was like to be alone and pregnant and scared like I am now." I tried to comfort her by taking her hand. She only jerked it away defiantly. My words of wisdom had transformed me into an enemy like every other adult. I looked around the place to make sure that there was nobody around to overhear our conversation. There was no one around us except an leathery old Indian man. He seemed to be watching us with a disapproving look in his eyes. Jenna struggled to get out of the booth with her prodigious girth. The petite look of the rest of her frame made the pregnancy appear that much bigger. Yet, she refused my offer of help by pushing my hand away. "If only you knew what it is like to be me right now." She broke into tears, and walked ahead of me out the door toward the motel. I hurriedly threw some bills on the table so that I could follow closely behind. I was very concerned for Jenna'a well being. When I passed the old man's table, he grabbed my arm, and mumbled some mumbo jumbo words that sounded very ominous. I pulled away from him and walked out. When I looked back, over my shoulder, I saw him making odd signs with his fingers. "Great!" I said aloud to myself. First I try to help this girl, and then she gets mad at me for doing it. Now I've got the natives upset with me as well. What could be next? Later, I would wonder why I tempted fate by asking that question. When I woke up the next morning so sick. I felt like I was going to throw up. God, I thought. What did I have to eat last night? My stomach was so bloated, it actually felt fat! It couldn't be indigestion, because I had never experienced stomach upset like this. I tried to bring my hands up to my mouth to catch whatever was threatening to come up my throat. They encountered something soft and big on my chest that wasn't there last night . . or ever before in my life. It felt just like a pair of...breasts? I could feel my hands touching them from inside my body. Oh God, I thought, I was a woman. I tried to sit up in the bed, but could not. There seemed to be something on my abdomen that prevented me from changing positions. I yanked down the covers of the bed, and got the shock of my life. Not only was I a woman, I was a very pregnant woman! I inched to the edge of the bed, where I swung my legs out over the edge. The dress and socks that I was wearing all looked very familiar. As the immediate shock began to wear off, I realized I was looking down at clothes that I had seen before. I noticed that my feet didn't even reach the floor, and I had to hop out of bed. When my feet finally hit the floor, I felt the soft growths upon my chest bounce up and down. I could also feel something elastic across my back and shoulder blades, as well as something cutting into my upper shoulders. It could only be a bra. I think I turned red with shame because I felt my face flush. The torrent of emotions that I was experiencing, some of which I couldn't even identify, must have done something to the fetus now growing inside my new womb. I felt it kicking, and moving about. Then, all of a sudden, I felt a massive amount of pressure where I new my bladder to be, and a release of that pressure. Warm liquid filled my lower undergarments, running down my legs. The baby's kicking made me wet myself. I wanted to cry so badly. However, I stuggled to maintain control. If I lost it, there was no telling what would happen. I waddled over to the full length mirror on the dresser. Everything seemed so big now because I was so short. The reflection in the mirror confirmed my worst fears . . . I had become Jenna! I was now an extremely pregnant, teenaged runaway. "JENNA?" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "ARE YOU HERE?" My voice was an octive higher than it used to be. It was soft and melodic. It was the voice of Jenna. However, there was no response to that voice. A panic gripped my heart. I searched around the motel room. All of my clothes and belongings were gone! The car keys were gone also. The only thing that was left was Jenna'a knapsack, and a closed, sealed envelope. I waddled to the front window of the motel room, desperately clutching the envelope. When I separated the curtains to see into the parking lot, I confirmed what I already knew to be true. My car, and Jenna in my body were now gone. This time I did vomit. As soon as I felt the urge rising in my throat and chest, I ran as fast as I could toward the bathroom. The cumbersome body that I now wore wasn't exactly built for speed. I was able to hold it back until I got to the toilet bowl. I got on my hands and knees, launching a stream of puke into the bowl. During the multiple dry heaves that followed, I realized that it wasn't something that I, or rather she, had eaten. It was the morning sickness that accompanies pregnancy. Even that wasn't fair. Most women resolve morning sickness in the first or second trimester. This body was at least in the late second trimester. I straightened back up, flipping her long blonde hair out of my face, and back over my shoulders. I tried to convince myself that Jenna had just gone for help. Yeah, that was it! She went for help, and would be back soon to correct this situation. I had made her body a mess. I had wet myself, and puked all over myself. I thought I had better make her body presentable before she returned or else she would be mad at me. I didn't want her to be mad at me. The stress over what had happened to me, combined with my unwillingness to accept that I was now stuck in her body threw my mind into denial. You do strange things while in denial. I muttered over and over, "Gotta clean up. Can't have her mad at me. Gotta clean up. Can't have her mad at me. Gotta . . . ." I kept my mind occupied with this mantra, while I stripped off the soiled clothes, and then jumped into the shower. I didn't want to have to think about the body that I was about to bathe. It was no use! After being a man for your entire life, having a beautiful, pregnant woman's body was a jumble of erotic sensations. I couldn't help but fondle my big new boobs. The vomit had seeped through her dress and they needed washing. The nipples were large, brown, and a bit sore, in preparation for the job they were supposed to do in a few months. Still, the feeling of weight on my chest, along with the twin points of pleasure on the end was quite an experience. I felt along my outrageously expanded abdomen. That feeling of weight, riding low on my pelvis was wild, albeit not as wild as feeling another life inside of me kicking/moving every now and then. I even felt all along my new womanhood with shaking hands. It wasn't that much different than a man's genitals. My new labia was kind of like the scrotum of my balls. The feeling of that flesh was analogous, as my clitoris was to my penis. When I manipulated it, it seemed to grow, and felt sooooo good . . . maybe even better than a penis! I mentally stopped myself from thinking that way. I didn't want to start liking what had happened to me. As if to illustrate that point, I could feel my vagina start to lubricate in preparation to be entered. That revelation underscored exactly the substantial difference between what I was, and what I now was. I could no longer penetrate, but was designed to be penetrated! I was no longer the hunter, but the hunted. The rest of my anatomy was slender, soft, smooth, and so very weak. I had to force myself to concentrate on the job at hand . . . clean the body. That's exactly what I did, as quickly as possible so that I wouldn't have to touch, and start to like the touching of, this body. I finished bathing. Washing Jenna's long hair was a bit of a problem. It made me wonder how women managed such long hair? I didn't know, and didn't care. I would just comb it out, and she would be back to reclaim her own body. She could dry and style the hair. Fortunately, there was another change of clothes in the knapsack. It was very aw1kward putting on a bra for the first time, particularly getting the boobs into the cups. I had to settle for putting it on backwards, pulling around my waist, putting my small arms through the straps, and then pulling it up, and stuffing my tits into it. The rest of the outfit was simple cotton panties, a T-shirt, a sleevless maternity dress, socks, and sandles. After I finished dressing, I carefully combed out Jenna's long hair. I settled for just pulling it up and over my head, and down my back. I had to wring it our a couple of times in the sink, or it would never dry. As it was, it would take hours. Jenna's cherubic youthful face needed no makeup or anything, not that I had any intention of wearing any, of course.. The next order of business was rinsing out the dirty clothes. That I did, using the sink, and the soap provided by the motel. I wrung out the clothes after I was done, to get as much moisture out as I could, and hung them over the shower rod to dry. The only thing left to do was to sit down and wait for Jenna to return. It seemed like I was checking the clock on the wall every couple of minute. Those minutes passed like hours, the hours like days. 12:30 p.m. rolled around, and there was still no Jenna. To distract myself, I began to watch people out in the parking lot. There seemed to be an awfully large amount of native americans around. Then it hit me all at once. Where would Jenna go for help. She wouldn't have a clue as to how this all happened. She wasn't around when that old Indian uttered those strange words, and made those odd hand symbols in response to her wish that . . . Oh my God, I screamed inside my head. That was it! That old Indian had somehow granted Jenna's wish. She had wished that I could know how it felt to be pregnant and alone. That meant . . . Jenna wasn't coming back. I had been deludng myself all along. I scrambled for the envelope that she had left for me. I had put off opening it for fear of what it might say. Now it was an imperitive. I ripped it open, and began to read. It read: Robbie: Or should I say Jenna, now. By the time you read this I will be gone. I woke up and found myself in your body, and I can only guess you are now in mine. I don't know how it happened. Maybe God heard my prayers. It got me to thinking about what you said to me. You were right. I should be with my mother. The authorities should be told what happened. I just couldn't do it. You're a lot smarter than I am. You have it all figured out what to do. You can make it all right, and make sure that bastard gets what he deserves. I'm sorry. I just couldn't do it. Please don't try to find me. I didn't do anything to take your body, and I don't have any idea how to give it back I guess I got my wish for a new life. Please try to enjoy mine. Take care of my baby. I'll pray for you both every night. Good-bye. Jenna. Robbie p.s. I paid for the room already, and left you 100 bucks until the authorities get here. I called the child authorities so that they could help you get back home. You were right I just hope you have the courage to do what I can't. There was about $100 in loose bills inside the envelope. That is when I panicked in earnest. I had wasted a few hours already. The child authorities would be here any minute, and take me back to live out Jenna's life. I did the first think that came to mind. I ran! The wet clothes were hastily folded, and packed into the knapsack with the rest of Jenna's belongings. I slung it over my shoulders and waddled out of the motel room as fast as my pregnant little body could carry me. I had to get away from here. There was only one thing that I could do. I had to find that old Indian so that he could set things right. I had to explain what had really happened, and the situation I was in. He just had to understand. I spied the place where my search would have to begin . . . the restaurant across the street. Despite my urge to run, I forced myself to slow down, and walk like nothing was out of the ordinary. Not that a very pregnant fifteen year old was normal. Running wasn't much of an option, anyway. I proceeded across the street, into the restaurant. Fortunately, my luck was holding. The child authorities had not yet made the scene. Once inside the restaurant, I immediately recognized the middle aged waitress who had served us last night. I think her name was Madge, or something like that. I walked up behind her, and tapped her on the shoulder. She, and everybody else was much bigger than me now. Madge turned to see who was tapping her on the shoulder. She smiled when she saw me. "Hiya Hon. Didja leave somethin' here last night?" "Uh . . . no . . er . . . Madge." "Speak up Baby. I wouldn't bite ya. You just tell ole Madge what the problem is. What's your name anyway, Sweetie?" "R . . ." I started to say, but then stopped myself. "Jenna," I corrected. "How old are you Jenna?" "Fifteen." "My Lord! A wee child like you should not be pregnant. You just tell me what your problem is Honey, and I'l do what I can to help you. Is it that man you were with." This was not going in the direction that I wanted. If she kept me around here, I would surely be caught by the authorities. I had to get to the point, and get there fast. "I'm looking for that old Indian man that was in here last night. Can you tell me where to find him?" "The Black Crow? What would you be wanting with that old Indian shaman? He's crazy you know." "He-he told me to look him up last night. My . . . dad and I were going to go and visit him, maybe bring him some groceries or something." "Babydoll. There's a dirt road on back of this here diner. You just follow that road out about ten miles, and you'll come to his shack. It's on the edge of the reservation." Finally, I had a break. In order to keep up the lie that I told her, I stood upon my tiptoes to kiss her on the cheek. "Thanks Madge. You've been a big help." "You bet, Jenna. You be safe now, ya hear, Sweetie?" "I will," I assured in my best little girl's voice, as I hurried out of the place. I looked back over my shoulder long enough to see Madge go back to what she was doing before I interrupted her. The hike along the dirt road was long and tiring. A pregnant body was not built for walking long distances. I had to stop often to rest and several times I had to find a spot off road to pee. I really wished I had my old body back then. It wouldn't have been too hard to squat, but when you added in the extra mass in front of me it became downright difficult. The trip took a lot longer than what I had originally anticipated. It was dusk before I arrived at the shamen's shack. Fortunately, he was at home becasue the interior lights were on. I knocked softly upon the door of the shack. There was movement from within. Moments later, the old Indian that I recognized from the diner opened the door. When he saw me, he stated, "So. You have come to me. Do you not like your new body?" "You don't understand," I protested. "Understand all I need to. You get girl child pregnant, than treat her badly. You not want to take responsibilty for your baby. Now you must take responsibility. You now mother and father!" I reran everything that happened last night from the exact text of my conversation with Jenna, down to my touch of her hand. Of course to any third party who had been watching, it would appear to be just as the Indian thought it to be. "No. It's not like that. I'm not the father. Please let me explain." The elderly Black Crow looked at me for a second, and then opened the door further for me to enter. Enter I did, and proceeded to tell him every detail of my story. For the next half hour he listened to my every word, neither speaking, nor making any facial expression. When I finished my story, he took both of my hands into his. He looked deep into my eyes, while concentrating intently. It was almost as if he was looking through me, at my very soul. Abruptly, the Indian dropped my hands. "I believe you," he said. I was hopeful. "Then you will put me back into my own body?" "No. That I cannot do. Both bodies must be close to each other in order for me to reverse the spell." My heart sank. I felt like crying. The Indian saw the tears forming in the corner of my eyes. "I can help you, my friend." "H-how?" "You must trust me. Can you do this?" "Yes. I guess so." What choice did I have? "Good. We must hurry. We go into the sweat lodge." The Black Crow led me into a windowless, and very warm room. He started a fire in the center of the room, and bade me to sit down. I did as he requested me to do. The Indian shaman began to chant in a language that I didn't recognize, or even understand. His chanting was very relaxing, however. Every now and then, The Black Crow looked over to me, to see how I was doing. I was so very tired. The hike here had been exhausting. I thought that if I could just rest my eyes for a second, I would be all right. I would just close my eyes for a second, while I listened to his words. ********** The Black Crow checked to see if the young girl man was in the proper trance. She was, and he spoke aloud. "The Gods have seen that this child has been harmed. They have seen the soul of this girl through the link which the two of then now share. The Gods have agreed to set things right. They will erase my mistake." He directed his attention to the sleeping girl. "In order for the Gods to do their job, you must take the place of the girl that you appear to be. When you awaken, you will not recall the person you once were. You will know only that you are this Jenna, and that from the identification on her person. You will neither remember the details of your life, or the details of her life, as related to you. You will remember that you hit your head somewhere, and do not recall anything of your life before now. You have been just wandering around the roads. You are not a man. You have never been a man, nor do you ever want to be a man. You like who you are. You like being a girl, and will feel comfortable in your body. This you will remember, and one thing more. You will love and want to keep the babe who grows within your womb. This, and only this you will remember, until you once again behold the face of your rightful body. Then you will remember everything. You will remember the words that I will now tell you, that will reverse the spell. When spoken to your rightful body you will once again return home. This I promise to you. The Gods have assured me that the drama is yet to be played out." With that, the Black Crow whispered the magic words into the girl's ear. ********** "Where is my child? Where is my baby?" demanded an visibly destraught Barbara Eliot. Barbara was a young 32 years of age, and looked more like a woman in her mid to late twenties. However, the hurried trip from New Jersey, including approximately 48 hours without sleep, did nothing to enhance her appearence. Rod, her husband, did not help matters much either. He had been in a strange, agitated mood ever since they had gotten word that Jenna had been found. It was easy to understand why Barbara, or Barbi to friends and family, was so anxious. It had been nearly 4 months since she last saw her only child. She had spent every waking moment trying to locate Jenna to no avail. The call two days ago from Child Services in Oklahoma was the first good news that she had received in that time. Barbi attempted to ask the representative of Child Services how Jenna was, what kind of condition she was in, was she hurt, etc. The only thing that they would tell her was that she had better get here right away! It was the absence of usable information that was fueling all of Barbi's worst fears. "She's right in here Mrs. Eliot. I know that you are upset, but please try to remain calm. It won't do either of you any good." "Take me to her NOW," screamed Barbi. She had endured quite enough! Rod placed his hands on his wife's shoulders. She was only slightly taller than her daughter Jenna. "Baby? Take it easy." Barbi shrugged her shoulders violently to dislodge Rod's hands. She glared at him with fire in her eyes. Her ire had finally found a suitable target. "Don't you dare touch me!" she snarled. "You have't been one bit of help since Jenna ran away. It's almost like you don't want her to come back. Well, I've had about enough of it. What's your problem? Did she run away because of something that you did to her?" Rod gave a fake laugh. "Ha ha. Of course not. I knew that she would be found. I'm just worried about your health. That's all." His nervousness and edginess made Barbi suspect that there was something more. There was something that Rod wasn't telling her. "This way," instructed the man from Child Services. He led them through a series of doors, hallways and passages. Just before Barbi moved to enter the room, the man stopped her. "If you haven't seen or heard from Jenna in 4 months, I have to warn you. Uh . . . she's changed quite a bit. I just want you to be ready." "She couldn't have changed that much . . . " Barbi started to say, as she pushed open the door. As soon as she saw her daughter, she stopped in mid- sentence. Barbi's daughter was pregnant! ********** Back in Jersey, night had just started to fall. It was cloudy out this night, obscuring the moon. Dark shadows abounded everywhere. Within one of those shadows, near the rear of the Eliot household lurked a man dressed all in black. A black ski mask was pulled over his face so that only his eyes were visible. The man in black carried with him a black knapsack, that appeared to be filled with some equipment. The man cautiously looked all around to make sure none of the Eliot's neighbors were watching the house. He nodded to himself, satisfied that his actions would be unobserved. Slowly, ever so slowly, the man crept within the shadows to the back door of the Eliot house. When he got there, he reached toward the third planter that abuted the porch. His hand retrieved a key. The key went into the lock in the rear door, and turned without resistence. The man in black had free access to the interior of the Eliot house. The man thoughtfully replaced the key into the planter before proceeding into the house. He pulled the door closed quietly behind him. Just to may sure, the strange intruder peeked out through the curtains of the rear window, just to make sure that nobody saw his entry. The coast was clear! Strangely, the intruder bypassed the silver. In fact, he totally ingnored anything that appeared to be of value. Instead, he eased himself up the stairs, careful to avoid all of the creaky boards that he knew to be there. He moved unerringly to the room that, up until a few months ago, was occupied by Jenna, Barbi Eliot's daughter. The door hinges groaned slightly when the darkly clad man opened the door into Jenna'a room. The room was a cheerful pink, with stuffed animals scattered here and there. Remnants from Jenna'a childhood. The sight of those stuffed animals made the man pause for just a second. He sighed deeply, shaking his head. The man dropped his knapsack onto the floor. It made a dull thus as it hit the floor, indicating that there was something of weight contained within. The man started to unzip the knapsack, but whispered to himself, "So much work to do . . ." ********** It had been an odd two days for me. When I woke up two days ago, I was in some shack out in the woods. I had no memory of how I got there. As a matter of fact, I had no memory of who I was! The only thing of which I was absolutely positive was that I was a girl, and that I was going to have a baby. For some odd reason, I did remember that my name was Jenna. Other than that, I had no details of my life! I didn't know where I came from, who my parents were, or even who the father of my child was. The huge hole on my memory frightened me worse than . . . I could ever remember. I started to cry hysterically. An old indian guy came to me when I began to cry. He managed to calm me down. I asked him what had happened to me? He told me that I had been in some type of accident in the woods. He found me when I was unconsious, and brought me back to this place. This was his shack. He was very kind to me. He gave me some broth, which made me feel better. Then he explained to me that soon some men would be coming for me to take me home. He also said, and I thought it was kinda strange, that the Gods had brought me to him. He told me that a great wrong had been done to me, and my other, which the Gods would set right. I had no idea what he meant by my other, but I just nodded and listened because he was so nice. A little latter some men in suits did show up at the shack. They said that they were looking for me, that some anonymous man had given them a tip as to my whereabouts. I listened intently as the strange men told the old indian that I was a runaway from New Jersey. Apparently my mom had been looking for me for some time. She was very worried about me. The men, who identified themselves from Child Services, recounted to my indian protector how they had followed me from a motel, to a diner, and finally down the long trail to the indian'd shack. The indian, in turn, explained to the men how he found me unconsious in the woods. I had awakened without any memory of my past, except for my first name. It occured to me that I didn't even know my last name. None of the things which the men from Child Services said about me sounded at all familiar. It was as if they had happened to somebody else. The one thing that I did realize from hearing them talk was that I was just a kid. I was a underaged girl who had gotten pregnant. Then I thought that maybe that was the reason that I ran away in the first place? Anyway, the men from Child Services took me away. The old indian wished me well, and told me to have faith. Everything would turn out okay in the end. The Gods would see to that. I didn't know how it possibly could with everything those people were saying about me, but his concern touched me anyway. I had the feeling that my protector really, really cared about me. I broke free from the strange men long enough to rush over to the indian to give him a kiss on the cheek, and a hug. I thanked him for everything. The people from Child Services loaded me into a van to take me back to some place where I could stay, while my mom flew in from New Jersey. I tried to picture her face in my head. No images came! I asked one of the men to tell me something about myself. The only things they would tell me was that I was 15 years old, and that I was a runaway. They also told me that my mom had no idea that I was pregnant. That made me feel sad. It made me think that I must have been a very bad little girl to have gotten pregnant at such a young age. I must have already been having sex, and messing around with boys. I just wished that I could remember something . . . anything at all. Suddenly, I wondered if I was pretty? I didn't even remember what I looked like. I looked down at myself to see that I had very big boobies . . . at least they were big for 15! No wonder I was popular with the boys. I could also see long, straight golden hair flowing over my shoulders, and over my titties. I must be pretty. I asked the men for a mirror. None of them had a hand mirror, but the driver was kind enough to rearrange the rearview mirror so that I could see myself. The girl in the mirror looked vaguely familiar. I knew that I had seen that face before. That made me feel a little better because I thought maybe my memory would come back. I was very pretty. A strange thought crossed my mind. If I was a boy, I would want to kiss and touch me. However, I put that thought out of my mind. How silly! I was a girl, after all. There is no way that I could ever be a boy! I have been at this facility for the last two days. There was nothing to do but get accustomed to myself since my memory did not return. Some psychiatrists or something talked to me, and they said that my memory loss was psychological. Some emotional trauma was blocking my memory. There was nothing that they could do for me, as it was something I would have to get over myself. They said that as soon as I got over whatever it was, my memory would come back. The people at the facilty were also very nice. They fed me, and gave me some new clothes to wear. Although, they had to go out shopping to get some maternity outfits big enough for me to wear. The weird thing was that, even though I was a pretty girl, I had no idea how to put on bras, put on make up, or even how to wash and style my long hair. The psychiatrists were all very confused. They weren't able to find any recorded case where somebody forgot how to do the most basic of learned or programmed behavoir. I was a first. They all concluded that I was from a very deep emotional scar . . . that I was tring to run awat from who I was or who I am. The fact that I was a very pregant teenager just comfirmed their conclusion. Fortunately, one of the ladies, Joanie, took pity on me, and took me under her wing. She retrained me on all of those things that a girl of my age should know. She was pleased how easy it came, and in truth, after a few times, it felt completely natural. The thing that I couldn't seem to get used to was my ackward body. It just seemed so alien to me. It stuck me as kinda funny because you would think by this time I would be used to the feeling of big boobies on my chest or my fat belly sticking out. It just felt so . . . wrong? And my movements . . . they were not graceful at all like a girl should be. It made me think that I didn't belong in this body. How could that be? I just figured that it was the memory loss like the doctors. With Joanie's help, I did start to move around more naturally like a girl. It was just those tits! I was constantly aware of their bobbling and jiggling. About an hour ago, Joanie told me that my mom was on the way from the airport. She said that she would be here soon. Joanie's words made me think back over everything that had happened to me in the last two days. Here I was now, staring at an stranger that kinda looked like an older version of me. "M-mom?" I guessed. The woman broke into tears at the sight of me. "J-Jenna . . . my baby? What happened to you?" Her tears made me start to cry also. Through my sobs I was able to say, "I-I d-don't know . . . m-mom. I can't remember!" That was when one of the psychiatrists explained mt memory loss and condition to her. There was another man with my mom that I didn't recognize. At first I thought that he may be my daddy, but I didn't look anything like him. The more that I looked at him, the more he stared back at me with an eerie look on his face. It kind of gave me the creeps! The explanation of my condition had opposite effects on the two newcomers. The man actually looked relieved. The woman, who was my mom, became almost hysterical. The psychiatrists had to give her a valium to calm her down. When the got her into a better frame of mind, they explained that my condition was from a deep emotional scar. Once I was able to get over whatever it was that caused the scar, my memory would start to return. That seemed to make her feel a little better. The woman rushed over to me, and took me into her arms. She cried freely, which of course made me cry again anew. She rocked me back and forth, like a parent would normall rock a child. I had to admit, that after everyhing that had happened to me, it was kinda nice being in the arms of someone who loved me as much as she seemed to. My body reacted to her smell and her touch. It just made me feel so . . . safe. That's how I knew that she really was my mommy. She pulled away slightly, to look me in the eyes. "You don't remember anything?" "Uh-huh," I responded, shaking my head in the negative. Blonde hair swirled around my face and eyes. Long hair was really such a pain. I wondered why I had wanted it in the first place. I drew the few stray strands that remained in my eye, or on my lips, away with a flick of my hand. "Do you remember me, Jenna?" "No. I'm sorry, Mommy. I wish that I could. You feel and smell real familiar. You feel like my mom." That was as much as I could honestly confirm. "That's a start," my mom tried to sound reassuring. "What about Rod?" she asked, pointing to her companion. "Who's Rod?" was my reply. "My husband. Your stepfather?" "No. I'm sorry." "Are you sure?" The strange man, who my mom had indicated was Rod, finally said something. "Now Barb. You really shouldn't push her. Just give the chld some time. I'm sure that it will eventually come back to her." My mom, however, asked me another question. "Do you know who got you in this condition? Was it one of the boys at school?" "I really don't know Mommy. I'd tell you if I could." Her questioning made me start to cry again. She took me into her arms, yet one more time. "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay. Your Mommy's here, and she loves you very much. I'm going to take care of you. Okay?" "I love you too, Mommy," I cried. Everybody started to pack up my things to take me home. The psychiatrists gave my mom some last instructions. They told her that it was important that I be returned to my old life, including school, as soon as possible to trigger my memory. My mom tried to protest, saying that a pregnant teenager had no place in school after the child was born. The stressed how vital it was that I return to all of my familiar surroundings. They made her promise to return me to school, despite my condition. With the final formalities, and paperwork taken care of, they put us all in a van to take us to the airport. I was on my way home . . . ********** All of the way home, my mom would not let me out of arm's reach. She kept holding me, and comforting me. When she wasn't crying, she told me details of my life in the hopes that it would trigger some spark of memory. None did. Nevertheless, by just listening to my mom, I learned a lot about myself. She told me my likes, my dislikes, my friends, my enemies, and my boyfriends. Mom told me of all of my activities, my achievements, and my failures. It was most enlightening, especially the last part. I had apparently fallen in with a bad crowd. Mom even caught me smoking. I didn't remember anything about me and my friends breaking into some other parent's liqour cabinet, and getting drunk. None of it ranf a bell, although it did sound like I was a popular girl! Every now and then, mom would stop in the middle of a sentence to say, "I'm so sorry Jenna. I never wanted this to happen." After a few times, I asked her, innocently, "What are you sorry for, Mommy? This isn't your fault." "It is in a way, Baby. I should have known that you were too pretty, and too developed for you own good. I should have known. I wanted to put you into an all girl's school, but I just couldn't afford it. I just never wanted to happen to you what happened to me." "I don't understand, Mommy. What happened to you?" I asked, curious. "Baby, I met your daddy when I was in high school. Back then, I was just as pretty, and as built as you are now. I started to fool around early. I got pregnant with you when I was only 16, and I had to marry your dad very young. I just always . . . wanted better for you. Y'know?" We both started crying together. I don't think that I'd ever felt closser to anyone in my entire life. Mom regained her composure to say, "Just promise me that no matter what, you won't run away again. I'm your mother. You can tell me anything. We'll get through it no matter what it is, just as long as you tell me, and we stay together. Promise?" "I-I promise, Mommy," I swore. ********** Barbi sat at her table alone. Lunch was almost half gone, and she had still barely touched the food that she had ordered. The truth of the matter was that she just didn't have any appetite. She hadn't had one since returning from Oklahoma two days ago with the girl which she thought was her daughter. As grim and as troubled as her current facial expression was, there was no doubt that it would be much worse if she knew that her daughter's body was animated by the spirit of a man. A man who could not remember who he actually was! Her sad demeanor was due to two facts. The first thing was that neither her room, her friends, nor any familiar surrounding had triggered a trace of recollection within Jenna. The second, and perhaps the most significant matter was the taunting and teasing that Jenna told her she was getting at school. Barbi knew from her own painful memories how hard it was to be a pregnant teenager in high school. Classmates, and even your so called friends could be downright cruel. On each of the past two days, Jenna had returned from school bawling her little heart out. It wasn't the ugly names that she was being called, "Prego" or "Preggers," per se, that was so bad, although they were painful enough. It was the other names of "Slut" or "Whore" which Barbi knew, all too well, would follow. Once one person got into your panties, you got the reputation of being "easy." Jenna's looks and build would have made her a prime target for that type of reputation anyway. The fact of her pregnancy just confirmed what everyonee thought they knew, and made her new reputation a certainty. After the baby was born, every guy in school would be trying to separate Jenna from her panties. On top of all of that, Barbi couldn't ignore the cracks that had started to form in her marriage to Rod. Even before Jenna's return home, he was less than supportive in trying to find her. Now that she was home, he didn't seem to care whether Jenna got her memory back or not. Before they married, Barbi thought Rod was different . . . sensitive. She thought that he would be a good husband, and father to Jenna. He always paid lot of attention to her, playing games with her, and helping her with her homework. Now she wondered. She may have been wrong about him. Shortly after the honeymoon, he seemed to change. It was like she didn't even know who he was anymore! Rod had even started to get rougher in bed. Barbi definately didn't like that. Tears started to form in the corners of Jenna's eyes from the totality of the situation. She felt so lost, alone, and overwhelmed. "Excuse me Miss. Are you okay?" came a man's voice from behind her, and to the side. Barbi looked up to see a very handsome man, in his early thirties, with a look of concern upon her face. She realized with a start that the concern was for her. "Uh . . . no. I'm okay." "Are you sure? I was just sitting over there, when I noticed you over here by yourself. You looked so sad just then. Well . . . it's just that . . . I hate to see anybody sad. Y'know?" Barbi was genuinely touched by the man's kind words. "It's okay. I just have a lot on my mind. That's all." "If you would like to talk about it, I would be happy to listen. My friends have always said that I am a good listener." "No. Thank you. You are very kind, but it's something that I have to work out on my own." "Are you sure? I've heard that it sometimes help to tell your problems to a stranger. I'm not doing anything right now. At the very least, allow me to keep you company. I could never forgive myself if I didn't try my best to help a damsel in distress. A very beautiful damsel too, I might add." That made Barbi blush, and smile, in spite of herself. She really didn't want to be alone right now. Rod was certainly not a sympathetic shoulder to cry on. Perhaps this guy is right, thought Barbi. He seems awfully sincere. She looked at the man closely. "Well . . . okay. Maybe just for a while." agreed Barbi softly. There was something odd about the man, something that she couldn't put a finger on, that made her feel calm. It was one of those weird things when you meet somebody for the first time, yet you feel as if you have known them all of your life. As the man sat down, Barbi scrutinized the man a little closer to determine if he was anybody that she had met before. She thought that maybe she knew him from somewhere. Perhaps that was causing her sense of familarity. However, there was nothing about him which she recognized. Nevertheless, through her inspection, she did notice how good looking he was. The man was about 6'2", 180 lbs., and had sandy blonde hair with sky blue eyes. The man virtually radiated warmth. There was an awkward moment of silence. The man extended his hand in order to shake Barbi's. "My name is Robbie." he mentioned, almost as an aside. He had no trace of an accent which could be placed. "Oh . . . I'm sorry," replied Barbi, red faced at her lack of manners. "I'm Barbi. Barbi Eliot." Barbi extended her left hand, taking his. "That's Mrs. Eliot I see," noted Robbie pointedly, glancing down at her hand. Barbi withdrew her hand ackwardly. "Uh . . . yeah." She didn't feel like talking about her marriage to Rod right now. In an effort to change the subject, she asked, "Do you live around here Robbie? I don't believe that I have ever met you before." "You haven't. I'm new in town. I've only been here for a few days." "What do you do for a living?" "I used to be an attorney. I gave that up, and just moved on. I'm sort of looking for something new. Something just drew me to this town . . ." explained Robbie. "I'm sure you'll like it here . . . you and your girlfriend?" Barbi had no idea exactly why she asked that question. Her face turned beet red. "No reason to be embarassed. I don't have anybody right now. It's just me." For some unknown reason, that made Barbi happy. It made her feel better just to be in the presence of this warm stranger. "Now . . . why don't you tell a sympathetic ear, and a friendly smile, what is troubling you.," encouraged Robbie. His gentle invitation just opened the flood gates to her soul. For the next 45 minutes she told him everything about her life, about her love, about her marriage, and most importantly, about her daughter. Anytime that she got stuck, or hesitated, Robbie was there to help her along. To Barbi it was kind of strange. This stranger seemed to know her, seemed to understand her very soul. He was like nobody that she had ever met before. Barbi went on for some length of time about her daughter's current loss of memory. That seemed to catch her lunch companion totally by surprise. "Wait a minute," interrupted Robbie. "Are you telling me that she doesn't remember anything about her life until a few days ago?" "Yes. That's what they told me out in Oklahoma where they found her." "What could cause that?" "They say it's from a severe emotional trauma, but I don't know. She was found by an old indian out in the woods, wandering around without a memory. If you ask me, I think that indian is involved, but what can I do?" That made tears begin to leak out of her eyes. The most amazing thing happened. Robbie reached up with his hand, and tenderly brushed away Barbi's tears. It was the most loving and caring thing that anyone had ever done for Barbi. Robbie could tell from the look in Barbi's eyes that there was something more, so he asked her, "There is something else isn't there? There is something that you aren't telling me?" "Yes," replied Barbi softly, looking away from the man. "Tell me. Please? I swear it will be better if you get this off of your chest," encouraged Robbie. "I-it's just that I feel so guilty . . . so ashamed!" "But why?" "I know that I should be really upset that Jenna has lost her memory, and part of me is. Really! But another part of me is happy. She hasn't had the best of lives this far. Her father left me when she was young. I have never been able to give her the things that she deserves. It's better that she not remember so that she can start over. Before this happened, she was always depressed, as if she were troubled about something. It was something deep and dark, but she just wouldn't tell me. We were starting to grow apart. Now she is so sweet and innocent. It's like I have my old daughter back again. Part of me doesn't want her to get her memory back so that she can be happy again. I just wish she could hear me, and know how very sorry I am for everything that's happened to her." Now Robbie was crying too. "I-I'm sure that somehow . . . she knows." "Do you think so?" "Absolutely!" said Robbie, forcing a smile. Neither person said a word. Neither had to. It was that flashpoint when two souls connect on every level possible. Then ever so slowly, the man leaned over, and kissed Barbi on the lips. It wasn't a compassionate peck either, but a full open mouthed kiss of passion. Barbi, despite her problems, despite her marital status, kissed him back. The kiss stretched on for minutes. Eventually they broke the kiss. They both leaned back into their chairs, exclaiming at the same time, "WOW!" Now only one issue remained. Barbi broached the subject, "W-where to we go from here?" "I have to see you again . . . someplace a little more private." Barbi grew excited. She had never even contemplated having an extramarital affair before, although with her beauty, she had more than her share of chances. This man was diffrerent. She felt so close to him, as if he were her soulmate. She couldn't let him go, no matter the cost. "Where? When?" "In a few days. I'll find you. First, I must go to Oklahoma to find out what happened between that indian and your daughter." "Robbie . . . no. You don't have to do that for me." "But I want to. I want to do anything that will put your mind at ease. Besides, I am kinda interested anyway. Just call it my need to know." "You would do this for me?" "I would do anything for you at this point, Barbi." "I-I love you!" cried Barbi, and she meant it. "I love you too." His declaration was no less sincere. Barbi looked at her watch. She was about 30 minutes late getting back to work. She leaned over to give the man another kiss. "I have to go. I'm sorry . . . I wish I could stay." With that she stood up. "Promise me that you'll find me when you get back." "I promise," Robbie vowed. "I'll come back here every day for lunch until you do. Just don't be to long." "I'll be back soon. You just take care of that daughter of yours." "Okay. I love you." "I love you too." With that, Barbi Eliot was gone. However, she left with a spring in her step for the first time in a long time! ********** The person inside Robbie's body watched her mother walk away. The real Jenna had initiated this contact . . . had carefully planned it. Only four days ago, she had secreted a bugging device, along with miniature surveillance equipment in her old room, in order to catch that bastard Rod in the act. The "chance" meeting with her mother just changed her carefully laid plans. It had been Jenna's intent to lure her mother away, under the pretext of an affair, in order to sexually frustrate Rod. She figured the frustration would force Rod to seek his pleasure from her former body, even though it was pregnant. She had counted on Robbie's knowledge of Rod's true nature, and his part in all of this to keep him safe. She figured that she could get enough incriminating evidence, without something bad happening to Robbie, to put Rod away for good. The real Jenna really hated using Robbie's body, as well as her former body, in this way. It was the only way she could think of to take care of Rod. She didn't exactly know how she got insiude of Robbie's body, but was thankful for it. Prior to the switch, she wouldn't have been able to convince Robbie to render any significant help. With his body, and his money, she was free to do so. Now, Robbie didn't remember who he was. He now thought that he was Jenna. That put him directly into the path of danger. It has to be the indian, pondered the real Jenna from inside Robbie's body. I remember him from that diner when I wished that Robbie could have my body. The indian had to be responsible for both their exchange and the amnesia. . She knew that she had to go and find this indian, in order to truly understand what was happening to her and Robbie. One thing troubled her, however. Jenna had only intended to pretend to like her mother in "that way" in order to draw her into an affair. Something happened to transform that plan. She truly loved her mother, not as a daughter would love a mother, but as a man loves a woman. The ache in Jenna's heart told her that she wanted to make her mother happy. The lingering erection in her pants told her that she wanted to make love to Barbi. Things were becoming very strange. She hoped that Robbie would be safe in her body until she got back from Oklahoma! ********** I just can't cry anymore. I'm all out of tears. The others kids a school have been so mean to me for the last two days, and this is the second day in a row that I ran right up to my room to cry into my pillow. They called me "Preggo Girl" or just "Preggers." Other, less kind kids called me "Fatso" or just plain "Pig." How could they be so cruel to me? On top of that, I didn't remember any of my old friends, Sandy, Heather, and Beth. They remembered me though. They all had been warned before I returned to school that I was having problems with my memory. Of course, they were also told of my delicate condition. It was awkward for me to be around them. Although they all tried to be very nice, they kept on looking at my swollen breasts, and large abdomen. Sometimes I would turn my head towards my "old" friends and catch them staring strangely. They kept on asking me embarassing questions like what it was really like to have sex, did I do it only once, and did I give anyone a blow job? It was frustrating because I just didn't have any answers for them. I didn't even know who the father of the baby was, let alone knowing any details of how I got it. I had been hoping they could tell me! All their questions just triggered a guessing game between Sandy, Heather, and Beth. They brought up names of boys that I had supposedly been interested in, or ones whom they knew had the hots for me. Although the spirited discussion did give me a summary of my dating and romantic life before I lost my memory, it didn't ring a bell. I felt no connection between the person that they were talking about and myself. It was like it had happened to another person entirely. How could it? I had always been Jenna, and would always be. I didn't remember being anyone other than Jenna. All of the stuff that the girls described must have happened to me. From the sounds of it, I was a very popular girl before I ran away. Apparently, even though I was just a freshman in high school, a lot of the boys had the hots for me. That included a lot of upperclassman, even the seniors. What's more, I learned, just by listening to my three friends that they hung around me specifically because I was so popular. They thought they would get more boys, and get invited to more parties by being my friend. I had no idea that I was the queen of my particular class, and now I was a queen who had obviously fallen from grace. Although, Sandy, Heather, and Beth were trying to act as my friends, they couldn't disguise their obvious disappointment with the situation. Their gravy train was yesterday's news. And so . . . at times, those three couldn't resist making fun of me. Everybody, and I do mean every body, kept on asking me what it felt like to be pregnant. The girls were more interested than the boys, as they knew that someday they would face motherhood too. Not that I blame them, I would probably be fascinated too. It was just that every question called my attention to just how clumsy, uncomfortable, and alien I felt. I probably stood out like a freak, everything in front of me certainly stood out, my boobs and tummy anyway. I had become. . . a circus sideshow. That's exactly how I felt! I continued having trouble getting used to the feeling of the big boobies on my chest. I think every guy stopped to stare at me . . . uh . . . them. It was also difficult to walk around, let alone get up and down stairs, with the huge girth around my tummy. I think I had to go to the bathroom about every hour because my bladder wouldn't hold anything substantial. The baby picked the worse times to kick around inside me in the middle of class. Once, in English, I think the baby kicked my bladder. I almost wet myself, and had to dash out of the classroom as fast as I could. I just made it, but couldn't forget the sounds of my classmates laughing at me as I waddled out the door. Over the span of two days, Sandy, Heather, and Beth narrowed their candidate for the father of my child to Rex Sanders. He was a junior, but was the starting quarterback on the football team. Apparently, prior to my exit from town, he had the extreme hots for me, and I had a thing for him. We had been seen together quite a few times around town. However, for the life of me, I couldn't conjure his face up in my mind. In the two days since I had been back, he neither chose to talk to me, nor had I run into him. The fact that he seemed to be avoiding me, more than anything, fueled the