Time Tells All 2 free porn video

This is the second installment of my first story, 'Time Tells All', both of which are largely based on Morpheus's story 'Were'. Time Tells All 2 By Rpmbob I started to slowly drift asleep, despite the late hour of the morning. The transformation seemed to have taken quite a toll on my body, and I found myself slipping away from reality, into a lower level of consciousness. I fell asleep thinking about my new situation again, and slowly trying to sort out the things that had occurred in the past hours. Nothing seemed to make sense. I had a good relationship with my parents. They never held anything thing back from me, especially something as important as this. They had always told me the truth, and they had always tried to treat me as an equal, they didn't hold anything back from me that I might not otherwise be let in on due to age or maturity. Needless to say it felt unnatural that they would wait to tell me that there is a good chance that at fifteen I will turn into a girl. It seemed that nothing made sense. The story didn't sound right either, it sounded hasty, and rushed. It all seemed too unbelievable, like it was something that my parents had just made up. It seemed like some poor quality fairy tale. I dreamed incredible, wonderful dreams. I dreamed that I was in a strange place that I had seen only in books and movies. I was in a jungle, and I could feel the immense heat of the place, yet it did not seem to bother me. I was in the thick of an unnamed jungle. I could see exotic flora and trees surrounding me. There were flowers there so wonderful and incredibly beautiful, some with great giant red buds, and others with great reaching vines that seemed to inhabit everything. It seemed that everything was one here. Everything depended upon each other. The cawing of an unknown bird could be heard in the distance. It was in the middle of the day, and the sun was nearly directly overhead, bursting through the dense overhead flora in beams of light on the forest floor. It played games, letting light fall in patches and lines, but never revealing too much light in one place or time. After looking around and taking in my exotic environment, I realized that I was in the arms of a woman. I could feel her soft warming touch. I looked up to see her face, and I was astonished. It was the most beautiful face that I had ever seen. It was perfect in every way, but different from any other face I had ever seen. It had exotic, slanted eyes, and pale skin, with a small little nose. Her lips were the most breathtaking lips I had ever seen. They were dark green, with what looked like thousands of tiny little bright green veins going through them. Almost like a leaf. Her hair was long and silky, and jet-black, and it shone in the luster of the sun. It too was intertwined with leaves, all very dainty and bright green, and oval in shape but with a point at the one end. She looked down at me with loving, deep brown eyes. Her eyes seemed to go forever, each little line or contrasting shade of brown shown clearly and properly, presenting her soul for all to see. I stared at her for must have been forever, with her staring at me right back. She looked down at me with knowing, loving eyes. She looked at me with a look I had seen before. It was a look that only a woman could give, a mother's look. That is where I had seen it, from my mother. And then it all came together. Her face, the way she looked at me. I realized that she looked a lot like me (my dryad self), in fact she looked exactly like me. Only more noble, and mature, where as I looked more innocent and childish. I never realized that I looked like that before. I suppose that I had tried to avoid paying too much attention to my new face, never really looking at it. Never fully appreciating its full details. Furthermore, I realized that this woman that held me in her arms so, was my mother, or the mother of the girl's body that I now inhabited. I didn't know how, nor did I care at the moment, but it was then that I felt it in my heart. Just like I could feel her tension, her pain and agony, through my new powers of feeling. We had made a connection, a connection deeper than love, like our souls were connected by pure will power and emotions alone. I almost gasped when I saw a tear roll down her wonderful face. Then she bent over and kissed me with her soft, supple lips on my forehead. I realized that I was still in my dryad form as I looked down at our bodies, intertwined with each other with our arms and legs, looking like we would die if we were to separate, and feeling the same way. I could feel my breast against hers, and it was the strangest feeling I had ever felt in my life. Two of the softest, warmest things on earth mashed into each other in desperate love. I wanted to be in her arms forever, I felt at home. I felt more content than I had ever felt in my entire life. But before I knew it, it was all gone, for but a few minutes later I found myself waking to the sound of my father and Jenny arguing. It was certainly a far cry from the gentle and desperate love I had just felt in my dream. I felt heartbroken, because just when I felt that I would be there forever, with the woman, I was ripped away and woke to the sound of my yelling sister, and my hissing father. This was certainly not an unusual occurrence. My father and Jenny always have had a hard time getting along. I guess this is pretty normal for a teenager and parent relationship. They always seemed to find something to argue about. I would guess that the problem is that they are both so similar. They are both very bright and intelligent, but both very stubborn. This type of personality often leads to small wars that occur frequently throughout the house. Unfortunately, they usually end up disturbing my late sleeping habits as well. "Quiet down, he's still asleep." "He's still asleep? He's still asleep?! Who gives a shit! He's turned into a girl! His whole world is upside down! Sleep is the last of his problems!" her voice was rising now. It was Jenny's. "Jenny, please. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but it would have meant you finding out about Michael. Please understand. I didn't mean to upset you." "Upset me? Aralias himself is coming to our home and you didn't want to upset me?!" "Jenny, I couldn't tell you. I'm not going to argue anymore. This is not a matter of whether or not you should have known, but whether or not you could have known. Your mother and I, as well as me and mister and misses Barone, have agreed that no one know about this but us four. That is what we agreed to. It's bad enough that you know already, now I'm not going to listen to you cry about it anymore. You know as well as I do the dangers of anyone else knowing about this. If your brother or Karen found out, well... I'm just not sure that they could take that kind of mental blow right now. Besides, who knows what the consequence from the Organization might be. I trust you to be silent." His voice grew more calm and serious now, and I struggled to hear more of the conversation. What in the hell was he talking about? "Dad, they have to know sooner or later. You can't just go on like this, acting like nothing has changed." She seemed hesitant in her answer, and her was sincere, almost sad. "Nothing has changed Jenny. We have known this day would come for years now. We have been dreading it, knowing that everything will come out in time. They will know honey. Just not now. Please, don't do this to me. Don't do this to us." I didn't hear him say anything after that; I heard (and felt) only his exit out of the hallway. I sat there trying to grasp on to something else that they might be doing or saying, something else to clue me in, but it seemed the conversation was over. I lay there in bed for a moment, trying my hardest to piece together what they had said. Nothing made any sense in my head. What did the Barones have to do with this? I couldn't quite make any sense of it. I was still trying to come out of the daze that that dream had put me in. The experience still burned in my mind, and I wanted to try and hold on to it for as long as I could. Maybe it has something to do with what is happening here. I wanted to be back in my dream, with the woman again, as the memory of the experience still burned in my mind. It was only for a short few seconds of thought however, for soon I heard a hand on my doorknob, and I could sense Jenny coming closer. I quickly shot back on my side and covered myself up, doing my best to feign sleep. I tried to slow my breathing, and I could feel my heart pounding, not knowing what to expect my sister to do at all. Instead she just stood there. It seemed like hours, I sat there straining all my senses to pick up something, anything that she was going to do. I felt scared; probably more scared than ever in my life. Because in that moment I realized that I was completely lost. I had no bearings on life, or what I was doing, because I did not yet know who I was. I knew nothing, only that my old life had been completely torn away, never to be recovered. I could see her standing there, her silhouette strong against the bright hallway in contrast to the dim room. Yet in perfect detail, I could see every small crease and button on her clothing, every hair on her eyebrow. And soon in the silence of the room, I could hear my sister come closer, very slowly, shutting the door behind her. I could hear her feet padding across the soft carpet. The room was very dark now, and I could feel her sadness, her confusion and torn emotions. With every step towards me I could feel them grow stronger, and they seemed to assault me and overcome me, until I almost felt the same way. She was at the edge of the bed now, and reached a single hand out to my head. My heart felt like it was going to burst, and my small hands trembled. I could feel her cold fingers brushing against the cheeks of my face, gently and slowly. She moved her hand back, and I could hear her whisper, "Who are you?" I calmed down considerably now, knowing she meant no harm or plans of devious nature. I felt foolish suddenly. After all, this was my sister, my own flesh and blood. How could I be so mistrusting as to suspect her of planning harm against me? It seems that this transformation has done more than affect my physical being. I felt like all had betrayed me. My own family, my own mother father, my own sister had known about this. And they knew why it happened. But they refused to tell me; they refused to tell me that my life was to be torn away from me, and that I would no longer be Michael Penning. I didn't feel angry though, just saddened and frustrated. It was sad knowing that this event has torn us so far apart, yet almost nothing has happened to do so. I had only become a female, its not like I had voluntarily done anything to upset anyone. I had hardly even talked to her since the transformation, and I decided that it was something deeper, more emotional than words, and I realized that what had torn us apart was my identity, and how I had lost it in such a few precious moments. I remembered back to the dream, and remembered how so much was said in no words at all. Just the body language and physical love that had been shown. It was an emotional state that was so deep, and so incomprehensible, so inexplicable by the human language, that it produced a new self-entity inside of me. It was a new entity that wanted nothing but to touch, and to feel another being. I felt so strongly, and I needed so badly, and I wondered how I could suddenly feel such things so immensely and with such a passion. I felt suddenly overpowered by these new emotions, emotions that told me to need, and to want another human's touch so badly. What was going on? What was happening to me? Was it just my weakened state of mind and loneliness associated with the transformation? I longed to be back with that woman in that far off jungle of my dreams, to calm me, and ease my confusion. In any case, I had little time to psychoanalyze myself. I took control of my urges. Or at least I tried. And no, they weren't sexual urges. After Jenny left, I slowly crept out of bed. I felt like I hadn't walked in years. I picked one leg up over the side of the bed at a time, and quickly stood myself up. Stability and coordination slowly crept over me, like when you've been lying in the same position for a very long time, and very suddenly stand up, only to find that your body has trouble adjusting and your eyes fade in and out to adjust as well. As I regained control, I briefly took inventory once again. I was still astounded as to how something like this could happen. The weight of my hair and the jiggle of my breasts teamed with the sway of my hips to, once again, totally disorientate me. The body I had been in for sixteen years, the body that I have nurtured, groomed, cleaned, and grown in has abandoned me. Nothing in this body seemed right. All seems alien. I slowly swept my hands along the side of my body, feeling the soft skin of my supple waist and thigh. I felt my soft, silky hair and marveled at its weight and comfort. It felt wonderful to just pet it, and to run my hands down its length. Now this in no way meant that I enjoyed being a girl, I just appreciated that experience. All of this was great and dandy, just as long as it wasn't mine. Unfortunately, it was. I looked down through my small, cute, breasts to my dainty feet, which seemed to mock me, all the while reminding me of what I had lost. They were small even for a woman. My whole body was small even for a woman. I felt a miniature version of someone, or a smaller scale of a woman. I looked around, realizing that it was still very dark, but I could see like it was bright as day. It must be part of the whole dryad thing, I thought. And it was. I had been noticing small things like that all morning. Like how I could hear much better, see more clearly, and of course I could always feel what other people seemed to be feeling, if they were close enough to me. And another thing, I hadn't eaten all morning, in fact, I hadn't eaten since six-o-clock last night, but still I felt no hunger. I wasn't hungry at all, I felt absolutely fine, and this was very unusual. Usually I was starving after such as long time without food. I still couldn't figure out how that was working, but for the time being I blamed it on my undersized stomach. I crept out of bed and made it into the bathroom, quickly grabbing a robe from the closet. I closely monitored and checked the hall for people first, I still felt enormously uncomfortable with my body, and I wasn't ready for other people to see me just yet, not until I had looked in the mirror once more and reaffirmed my appearance. Once again I was reminded of my condition, as I surprised myself with the utter silence and speed with which I dashed to the bathroom. Once I was in the bathroom, I closely inspected my face in the mirror. Affirming the non-refutable resemblance I held to the woman in the dream. Her mother, I thought. I said her mother, meaning the mother of this new body. I knew it was so, but I didn't know how. I had to find the answer, I thought. Today, I would ask my mom what is going on. I looked at the big, brown eyes, almost exactly the same as the woman's eyes. Those lips, and that pale soft skin emulated the beautiful woman's face. It was all the same, yet different. Somehow I looked much more innocent, and young. My eyes looked tired, and scared. Unlike the woman's eyes, who looked down at me with trust and confidence, and with sadness. I decided that I had had enough, and quickly looking away from the mirror, refusing the reflection that stared back. I once again dashed across the hallway and into my room. I decided that I might as well get dressed. I started by pulling out pants that I knew were small on me before, and a big soft sweatshirt to hide any added endowments as best as possible. But I then realized that I had no underwear that would be practical, since I wore boxers. Also, socks were out, all my socks would have looked like I was wearing small sacks on my feet. So, the only solution that I could come up with at the time was to either go without underwear, or borrow a pair from some one else. Unfortunately, the only other people in the household that wore panties were my mother and sister, and the lord knows that those two people are the LAST people I wanted to ask for panties (actually, I couldn't think of anyone that I wanted to ask for panties). So, I decided to "rough it", and go without underwear for the time being. Dressing was one of the strangest things I had ever experienced. To be drowned out and covered in the clothes that fit perfectly just the other day, really shows you just how much smaller you have become. As I held the large, dark green cargo pants up to myself, they reached up from my feet to about my upper waist. I pulled them on quickly and tied them to my waist with an oversized belt, because it was too large and didn't have enough notches to properly use it. I then took a large, black Metallica shirt and slipped that on too. I decided to go without socks or shoes, as none would fit. I looked at myself in the mirror, revealing a very pretty young girl looking back at me. She was dressed ridiculously, with a large shirt containing her breasts, though her nipples showed through easily. Her pants were held up to her waist by some miraculous force, and the excess material lay in a pile at her feet. Good enough, I thought. Then I headed downstairs to at last confront my family. I certainly didn't want to do it, but a nagging voice inside of my head told me that it needed to be done. I dreaded having to see them, but found myself slowly walking down the steps to the living room. I heard the faint noise of the TV, entrancing its viewer, Jenny, with morning cartoons. No matter how old Jenny got, she never seemed to grow out of watching her cartoons. It was something that I used to tease her with on many occasions. I stood there for a minute, not quite ready to face her just yet, just watching her sitting comfortably on the couch. Then I made it the rest of the way down, and said a meek: "Hi." She turned to me, startled. "Oh, hi. I didn't hear you come down." She seemed much nicer and of course awkward than usual, and I felt like we hadn't seen each other in years. For the first time in many, many, years, I saw my sister as a person, not simply as "the girl in my house that I have to put up with". I saw her in a whole new light, and saw really saw her for the first time. It was refreshing, really just now noticing how much she had grown since I had taken a good look at her last. She looked, older, and more mature than I remember, with only a hint of the childish girl that I remembered as my sister. It almost made me sad, knowing that our growing ages and constant bickering had separated us so greatly. "Look, uhmm, Michael, I shouldn't have said that this morning. I'm really sorry, I guess I didn't realize how much this was for you." She said, actually sounding sincere and honest for once. "Forget about it. I probably would have done worse anyways." I tried to sound forgiving, but my obvious surprise at her honesty and new attitude was showing through. She obviously sensed it. "Michael, I did some thinking, and if you're a girl the rest of your life, then that means that my little brother is gone. And even though we have definitely haven't gotten along these past couple of years, I would like to say I'm sorry for anything that I might have said to hurt you. I hope that you will do the same for me. I realized that even though we don't get along, I still, well, I still love you." She said. She blurted out that last part, like she wanted to hold it in, but she knew that I needed to hear it, and it was nice, because I could feel her honesty and sincerity. "And I guess that I would like to think of this as a new relationship between us, and I would like to start this new relationship well." She continued. "Wow. I'm not sure what to say. That's really nice of you sis. Your right, even though I act like I hate you, I really do love you as a sister. That will never change. So um, listen, even though I will never consider myself as your sister, thanks for the offer. I hope you understand. Its just that, inside, I'm still your little brother." I explained. "Sure, that's okay. Don't worry, I understand. Umm, Michael, I know that you adjusting isn't going to be any where near easy, but if you need any help with clothes or anything, I'll always be here." She said after a long stare at my attire. It was nice to hear her say that, and I found myself amazed at how backwards our relationship had turned in these last few minutes. Hell, I might even ask her for a couple pieces of clothing. God knows I needed it, even if I didn't want to admit it. The clothes that I was wearing at the moment were far less than satisfactory. Even though they remained constant and made a message by saying that I was not going to be treated like some little girl, they were not practical and very uncomfortable. I kept tripping over my pants, and the rough cloth of the pants and shirt easily irritated my sensitive skin. "Thanks Jenny." I said. The conversation ended with relief, with both of us feeling relieved that that discussion was over, and that things were a bit clearer about how things would work from now on. I noticed an odd feeling coming from her however, one that I couldn't quite figure out. It was almost worrisome, or anxious, and I felt confused as to where it was coming from, and my sister being the obvious source looked at me briefly, but quickly looked away. She bit her lip, and I wondered if this had anything to do with what she and my dad were talking about earlier in the hall. I decided not to ask her about it, figuring that I should probably find out some more about it and maybe wait for somebody else to tell me, before asking her to betray her promise to my dad. It was really awkward to say the least. We just sat there watching cartoons for a short while. It was nice after a while, though. It let me relax for a while and think. Not about what had really caused my transformation, or what Jenny and everyone were hiding, but about nice things. Just abstract things. I soon let my mind wander back to my dream. I thought about how wonderful I felt, and I longed to be back there. It was almost like it was real, and not only a dream. I felt like I was floating through it as I remembered the details clearly and distinctly. It felt so great, and I soon felt myself going back there, and once again drifting asleep on the warm couch, cuddled up in a ball. Again I felt the warm sun on my back. The jungle was returning to me, and I was soon immersed in the wonderful atmosphere. The wildlife and plants and flora all came back to me. I looked around, amazed and overjoyed as realized that I had brought myself back. I looked around immediately for the woman. I remembered her soft touch, and her wonderful face, and immediately recognized it as I saw her standing in front of me about ten feet away. She looked happy, but pained. She looked at me with sad eyes, and her face seemed worried. I realized something was wrong, and felt heartbroken. I realized that it was her emotions that I was feeling. It wasn't really me that was heartbroken, but her. I cautiously stepped towards her, going slowly as I could, taking minutes to get only a couple of feet. I then felt emotional pain like no other I had ever felt. It was so horrible, I felt so sad. It was her again, I realized. The closer I stepped, the more intense I could feel it. I was saddened even more, when I saw that the woman had started crying. Her tears streamed down her beautiful face silently, and without warning. I quickened my pace and began dropping tears of my own, and walked towards her confused and sad with outstretched arms. Why wouldn't she come to me? What was wrong? Then she added further confusion by running quickly and silently into the jungle, saying nothing, and leaving only her tears. I quickly dashed after her, horrified that she was so sad, was it my fault? Why was she running? I ran and ran, and began to get desperate and hopelessly called out to her, in no real comprehendible words, but only cries and anguish. I felt abandoned and deserted. I cried out desperately, and collapsed on the soft jungle ground, feeling sorry and helpless for myself, making a pool of tears. It was then that I was once again rudely awakened, torn away from my dream world. This time it was deliberate. I awoke with my sister above me, shaking my arm gently. "Michael, wake up. It's just a dream. Wake up Michael." She said softly but deliberately. "Huh, whaa..." I muttered, noticing that I had real tears of my own on my face, I could feel their cool touch against my cheeks. "Sorry, you were crying. What happened? Are you alright?" She asked me with a tone of worry in her voice. "Uh, yeah. I'm okay. I've been having dreams." I blurted out. "Yeah, I kind of gathered that." She said sarcastically. "No, I mean these are the kind of dreams that make you wonder if they were real or not. These are the kind of dreams that make you feel like you're in another world, not just asleep. I've never had these kinds of dreams before in my life." I said, not really thinking about what I said or why, just trying to explain how intense and how committing these dreams were that I was experiencing. I explained them to her, both of them. I left out no detail, and even told her the more intimate parts about the physical contact. For some reason it didn't feel weird, like I was talking about sex, or some taboo that was forbidden between siblings. This was much more than that. I was talking about love. I told her about her face, her eyes, even the wonderful feeling I got when we hugged, and how she had kissed me on the forehead. I found myself slowly being led back into dream world. And then I began with the second dream, and how horrible and bad it made me feel. By the time I was done, I looked over at my sister, and she was crying. She started really bawling; her tears were streaming down her face. She leaned over to me, and started telling me how sorry she was. She kept talking about how she should have told me. Jeez, why did everything this morning end up with some one crying? I gently pet her back and patted it to comfort her as best I could. "Michael, I'm so sorry. I should have told you. You need to know." She said in between sobs. "Jenny, its alright, what are you talking about?" I was very confused at this point, but it obviously had something to do with the discussion I over heard earlier. "Michael, you aren't part of this family." She said. "What are you talking about?" I questioned, figuring my sister had obviously gone quite crazy. "Michael, you born in India, and..." She had to stop to cry some more. "...and mom and dad aren't really your parents. We aren't brother and sister, and you aren't a Penning." (Penning was our last name). She was looking straight into my eyes now, and I could feel her sorrow. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she had to stop a minute to wipe them away. "Jenny, what the hell are you talking about? What am I, adopted? And I just so happen to look like mom and dad, and we just so happen to have videos and pictures of my birth? Jesus Jenny, you have to be kidding me." I denied it at first. It just seemed so far fetched, like it was some fairy tale. There was just no way that I was adopted. I was a Penning, My parents were Mr. and Mrs. John Penning, and I had a sister named Jenny Penning. I lived in Syracuse, New York. Now I had turned into some girl and my sister was rejecting my membership to the family? This had to be a joke. Of course I was a Penning. Penning was a family name that I had always been proud of. We go back hundreds of years, every one of us a Were. We were well known and respected in the community of Weres, we had always been involved in the community. "Michael, I wish I were kidding. I heard dad and Mr. Barone on the phone, and I have seen letters." "What letters, what are you talking about? And what does Mr. Barone have to do with me not belonging to this family?" "I'm not sure exactly what is happening, but it has something to do with the last dryad. She had two daughters, they were twins, and were the most beautiful children anyone had ever seen, or so it has been said." She said, feigning a whimsical storyteller voice for added affect. "Don't you remember Michael? The story of the last Dryad? That story is real, Michael. That story is about you, and your mother, the last Dryad." She said this calmly, though perhaps a bit stressed as to try and convince me that this was true. Of course I had heard of the story of the last dryad. She was the last dryad known to Weres, and she had been said to have survived in the jungles of India since the times when Weres, Dwarfs, Hobbits, Elves and other mystical creatures all existed at once together, and there was no question to their existence, it was simply a well known fact, they lived and existed and outnumbered the race of men for thousands of years before they fell extinct to tragedies and natural disasters that had plagued them. However, times like that have long since past and as people grew older and "mystical" creatures grew fewer, fact became legend, and legend became but a story. This is what happened to the last dryad, her story is somewhat of a legend among the Were community. It is a well-known tale to Weres. It was said that she lived among the jungles of India, though which no one was sure of, and no one was quite sure of where she came from, or who her parents were, or anything else about her. The only thing that people were sure about was that she existed. She was said to have lived for ages and ages, and she has popped up among the native Indian people as well. They call her "lady of the jungle". She has been sighted from roman times to the more recent times of the late 1800s. British imperialists have sworn to have seen her in their explorations, and she is mentioned in several pieces of ancient literature and art. (Pieces of art and literature produced by Weres, of course. No simple humans have ever known about the mysterious woman besides the natives, and no human would have believed it. But Weres around the world have had no doubt in the existence of such a woman.) Were scholars and students have tried to search and research her, but know one really knows anything about her. And so people moved on, and she was remembered only in legend, with the occasional sightings reported by ignorant and naive native Indians. Now it was a tale told as a bedtime story and fictional tales of adventure are told about her and her mysterious ways to were children. Now my sister was telling me that the last dryad was real and had recently given birth to twins, and I was one of those twins. I thought she had gone absolutely insane. I told her so, and argued to her that I was actually the son of Mr. and Mrs. Penning. I had a life; I had friends, and a job, not to mention a girlfriend and a loving family. "It's all true Michael. What no one knows about the dryad is that she had enemies. She had constant stalkers and hunters trying to catch her and hunt her for fame and fortune among the Weres. Most of them were amateurs, nothing more than drunken Weres trying to find some quick money, but others were not. Others were very skilled and stealthy poachers, and they threatened to kill and endanger the mysterious dryad. "So once it was heard that she had children, she immediately, but secretly contacted Aurelius (the leader and most powerful were) to help her with the hiding of her two children. Aurelious devised a plan. He masked your appearance, into that of a male belonging to this family, and placed you here, after mom and dad volunteered to house you and raise you. You were not to know about this until you could fully understand. "But mom and dad grew attached, and feared losing you. They couldn't bear to tell you themselves, so they decided to let you find out on your own. It was known all along that you were going to turn into a girl at age fifteen. See Michael, it all comes together. It all makes sense. Please, just trust me. You have to believe me, it's the only truth you will find." She was talking very quietly now, a barely audible whisper. Her hand was on mine, gently rubbing it to comfort me, and as I looked into her blue eyes, I knew that she was telling the truth, or at least she thought she was. Her look was not one of trickery and foolishness, but of honesty and desperation. No one could give you that look and be lying to you at the same time. Besides, it all sadly made sense. The woman in my dreams was my mother, and she was the last dryad. She abandoned me to save me from danger. It all made so much sense. And it was the only solution I had to my transformation. It was devastating. For a permanent transformation to occur, and then be told that you weren't actually a member of the family that you have lived with and grown up with for fifteen years. For someone to tell you that your life is a lie, that you don't actually exist as you believe you do, but as a completely different person, and for that very person to be your sister (or formal sister). I had to struggle to keep from fainting there in front of my sister. I knew that she was telling the truth, and I think that was what scared me most. I felt lost, I felt like my life up to this point had been a complete waste. I felt like I was in some bizarre dream, but my senses told me otherwise. Then it was uncomfortably quiet, as both of us tried to sort our thoughts out. But there was one thing that didn't make sense. Who was my twin? And then it came to me, that was why the Barone's had come into the equation. Their daughter, Karen, she was my twin, my sister. Karen was my age, and she was in the same grade as I. I saw her around school, and she always gave me weird looks. I would look at her to find that she was staring at me intently, like she was probing me with her eyes. Then when I noticed her looking at me, she would quickly look away. I could never quite figure out why (I never thought I was that good looking). Now it all made sense. I couldn't believe it. I never knew much about Karen. She was good looking enough; she had red hair and a nice smile. Nothing astonishing, but definitely pretty cute. She was fairly popular and had had her share of boyfriends. I had thought of asking her out once but I never got the nerve (I was never too good with girls. I wasn't a nerd or a unpopular, and I was fairly good looking I guessed, its just that girls made me really uncomfortable, and I could never get up the courage to ask one out.) I never really saw her much anyways. But now she was my twin sister? How the hell am I supposed to deal with this? What am I supposed to say to her? Am I even supposed to see her? "Karen is my sister, isn't she?" I said solemnly, more as a statement than a question. "Yes. She has known for about two years now. No one has let her tell you." She said, and quickly added. "And you can't tell anyone you know, either. I promised mom and dad that I wouldn't tell you." "I won't tell Jenny." I said half heartedly, sounding more than a little depressed. "I can't believe that they would do this to me. Even after my transformation they tried to lie to me. Everyone knew about this but me." I whispered. "No, it's not like that at all. They were just afraid to tell you because they love you so much. See Michael, they were afraid to hurt you." She said sympathetically. "Jenny, if they really loved me and wanted to help me, they would have told me earlier. At least before I transformed. Jesus, you can't wait until the last minute to tell a guy he's not really who he thinks he is, and that he's going to turn into a wood elf. Jesus Christ! I have a sister that no one would tell me about!" I said, becoming more and more angry. Jenny just sat silently, realizing that I needed to sort things out. "She's not really your sister. I mean, technically she is. But I like to think that I'm your sister, at least emotionally, if you would let me. Just because were not related doesn't mean that we can't be sisters. I still love you as a sister, and that's all that counts, right?" She said, tenderly, seeking my approval. "Jenny you'll always be my sister." I said, slightly surprised at the emotional feelings my sister was showing. She started to cry now, and I hugged her, not wanting her to cry, and hoping to seal her tears. We stayed like that for a short while, but it became awkward, as I was once again reminded of my feminine position, as our breasts mashed together and our locks of hair entangled. "I can't believe it. I can't believe that all of this is a lie. Everything. My childhood was a lie, just as my whole existence as I know it is a lie. We aren't even really brother and sister, and mom and dad are just some people that adopted me." I said, more to myself than to Jenny. To be continued...