Meri Mallu Mummy Leela Part27
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Time Tells All Part 3 free porn video
Time Tells All Part 3
By rpmbob
After a while is just sat there on the couch, just watching
staring at the television blaring sounds and noises into my
head. I just let it all sink in. I guess my sister left at
some point, because when I looked to my side she was gone.
I just stayed there for what seemed forever, trying to
accept that this was who I was. It was almost impossible.
All my life I had been Michael, why should that change now?
I was having some serious identity problems. I started to
think about what makes a person who they are. I mean, if
someone is just pretending to be someone that they really
aren't, but they don't know that they are only pretending,
who are they? I decided in the end that no matter what
happened, I would always be Michael inside, and I would
always be a Penning. For all intents and purposes, my
parents were exactly who they said they were, and just
because they weren't my natural birth parents didn't mean
they weren't still my parents. How can someone be called a
mother or father if they do none of the work?
It was all incredibly confusing. I couldn't decide if I was
angry with my parents or not. I could understand that the
only reason they didn't tell me was because they didn't
want to hurt me, but that doesn't excuse it. Here I am,
some totally different person than I thought I was, and no
one had the guts to warn me about it. So who am I supposed
to be? I couldn't forget the feelings I had felt for the
woman in my dreams, who had turned out to be my mother.
There was no denying them. But whose feelings were those
really? If I don't remember the woman at all, how can I
feel anything for her?
Then it hit me. I didn't feel for her at all. I was feeling
the things that she was feeling for me. It was all starting
to make some sense. I would definitely have to be more
careful about how I felt about things. It was obvious that
it was hard to decipher my feelings from other people's
feelings. If someone could make me feel that way with
absolutely no previous experience or even opinions, what
else could they do? Or what else could I let them do?
It was pretty scary, to say the least. I was so unsure of
everything in my life. I had no idea as to what was the
truth. Finally getting up from the couch and turning the TV
off, I wandered into the kitchen to find that I was still
only slightly hungry, and more out of habit than out of
hunger did I eat. I fixed myself a couple of pop tarts and
sat down solemnly eating, enjoying the peace. Soon the
peace was shattered as my parents entered the room and the
tension rose. It occurred to me that they didn't know that
I knew what was going on (unless this was some stupid story
that Jenny was making up to produce the mother of all
pranks). They walked into the kitchen arguing about me
quietly, and when they should tell me again.
"John, I don't want to hurt him."
"Linda, this is the only way that he can not be hurt. We
can't wait any longer to tell him. He's not a little kid
anymore." My father said quietly, trying to be sympathetic
to my mother's feelings.
They instantly grew silent as the saw me sitting at the
table.
I saved everyone the trouble by saying, "I already know
what's going on."
"How?" My mother said.
"Jenny must have told him. Why do you think that they sat
so silently next to each other for more than five seconds?"
My father said, slightly joking in light of the tense
situation.
It eased things a little bit. The secret was out, and the
big elephant in the middle of the dinner party was pointed
out. I felt a little better, but still very awkward knowing
all that I did. I was glad that at least they didn't keep
acting stupid about it, and not tell me at all.
"So, I am in no way related to you?" I asked the both of
them, confidently, only to affirm the story.
"Well, you were related to us honey, but since the change,
well, no. You were born from me as part of our genetic
family. But, that was artificial. You were born from your
real mother, but after several weeks you were put into
hiding, inside of me. You were given a new identity, and
magically impregnated into myself. After that you lived
your life perfectly normal, but under a different name and
body. We all knew that the physical change could not
survive the magical tension rising in the body at the age
of fifteen, so you would be transformed back into your real
physical self. I'm so sorry we didn't tell you sooner, it's
just that we love you so much, and we didn't want to hurt
you." My mother said, saying pretty much what Jenny had
said, only avoiding the name of my true mother, I guess
because she had no name.
My mother talked for the both of them, and my father tried
to avoid looking at either of us, and let his eyes wander
to other places of interest around the room, such as the
coffee pot. He looked as nervous as I felt. My mother (ex
mother, I guess) just stared at me, with sad eyes, and
looked at me like she was looking for forgiveness. She
started to weep, and held her in her hand, shielding her
eyes from view.
I felt sad, and once again my feelings were manipulated
from my mother and father, and I found myself feeling sad
and miserable, and incredibly guilty. I couldn't bear it
much longer, and stood up slowly and gently hugged my
mother. She hugged back immediately, and as soon as I
hugged her I could feel her relief and perhaps satisfaction
that in some way, by hugging her I had forgiven her. I had
of course forgiven them. I could never have let them feel
that bad about something, I felt terrible, and I found
myself totally understanding what they must have gone
through, to have to tell your son that he isn't really your
son.
My father even hugged us both, and I felt happy and content
that such great family surrounded me, no matter what kind
it was. It was strange, that even though now it was
revealed that we were in truth no genetic family, I felt
more like a member of the family than ever.
More than ever I needed them, and wanted them, and more
than ever I wanted to belong with this family. And the fact
that I was no longer their genetic son really troubled me.
I now knew why they never told me, it was because a family
isn't all about relations, it is about love and support,
and as long as you have that, you are always part of the
family. After that, genetics doesn't seem to make much
difference.
But unfortunately the moment was ruined by my situation. I
could feel the way my father's arms wrapped around us so
easily, and how I had to look up to my mother, and how our
breasts touched awkwardly. I slowly pushed away, and my
mother held me tighter, and hugged me more, and the more I
pushed away the tighter her grip became.
"Please, let me out." I said in a small voice, my
anxiousness showing through.
"Alright honey." My mother said, squeezing me tighter one
more time.
It made me feel trapped, and claustrophobic. I felt
terrible, and I think I just lost it for a minute. I pushed
away more strongly this time and backed away a couple of
feet.
"No, stop. Just stop. I can't." I said, sounding crazy, and
stressed. I stood five feet from my parents who looked at
me concerned.
"Okay, honey. Sure." My mother said in a whisper, standing
completely at ease, trying to figure out what was wrong
with me.
I just felt assaulted, and I just remembered everything
come back at once. All of this just hit me and knocked me
over mentally.
"I'm sorry, it's just..."
"I know, its okay." My mother said, cutting me off before I
could finish my sentence.
"Thanks." I said, barely understanding what she said.
I stood there nervously for a couple of seconds, letting
everything come back, and trying to calm down. I felt my
feet against the cold hard tile floor, and my heart was
pounding. I looked at my parents, or Linda and John now.
They were so big and tall, and they looked down at me
concerned, but I was away from them, I felt like I was in
my own bubble. I felt like I was in a distant place, so far
away from them, but they looked at me and tried to talk to
me, but I felt so small. I felt like I was in a different
parallel world, looking at them as a ghost. I had images of
the woman in my dreams crying and staring at me, and I felt
really scared for myself.
Finally I came out of my stupor, as my Linda gently put her
hand on my shoulder. I let myself calm down and I caught my
breath, after I realized that I had been hyperventilating.
Linda was holding me gently in her arms now, my head
resting against her breast, and she was gently petting my
hair.
"Are you all right now?" She whispered.
I took a small step back and nodded. Feeling nearly ok
again. I stood there for another minute or two, and Linda
silently left the room, looking back at me with her
motherly eyes. John stayed, and looked at me anxiously,
like he wanted to say something. I just stood there and
looked at my feet, trying not to "freak out" again. Then I
sat down back next to the table again, and sat there for a
couple of minutes.
The old worn wooden seat barely made a noise compared to
the normal groaning protest I got whenever I would sit down
on it before, creaking its joints just slightly as I
shifted my weight. I rested my hands on the table and
looked at them in contrast to the large cold surface of the
tabletop. They seemed puny and weak, decidedly feminine and
girlish.
I wondered if I could still do all the things that I could
before, play football and basketball, or even baseball. I
wondered if I would ever again hold the weight of an arc
welder in my hands, or a hammer and nail, or any other tool
that seemed to be created fore the sole purpose of mocking
my small weak body. I flattened my fingers against the
table and noticed that they were long and slender, yet not
nearly as long as they have been a day ago. I wondered what
they could do, what they would help in my life, besides
adorning nail polish and manicured nails, and maybe a
pretty ring. Though I knew deep down that I would never
wear those things, I still shivered a bit when I pictured
them on my fingers.
***
"Err, Michael, I want to talk to you." My father, err, John
said.
"I don't know what exactly Jenny told you, but let me let
you in on a couple of things. First of all, Linda and I,
even though we may not be your real parents, will love you
all the same, and we will always be here for you. Even
though I knew what to expect I guess I never could picture
you as a, well, as a girl." He said cautiously, not knowing
what to expect from me.
"I'm sorry, it's just so strange seeing you like this. All
my life you've been my boy. You were the one I could play
baseball with and teach how to make a good tackle. Even
though I knew, jeez, it's just so odd. And you're so
small." He said, more to himself than anyone else.
"Yeah, I know." I said simply.
"But that's not what I wanted to talk about. You have a
sister. You have a twin. Her name is Karen, I think you
know her. Karen Barone. She has the same background as you
have, but she has known for a long time, and she has wanted
to see you for a while. And while I know that you may not
want to see anyone today, Mr. and Mrs. Barone have warned
me that she might show up." John explained slowly.
"How long has she known?" I asked hesitantly.
"Michael, does that really matter?" John asked, sounding
like he was trying to calm me.
"It matters to me." I stated.
"Karen found out when she was six." John said quietly.
"Six. SIX! How the hell is it that she gets the heads up
ten years ahead of time, while I'm not told at all!" I said
angered.
"Michael, it's not like that. She wasn't supposed to find
out. She overheard the Barone's talking about it. It was an
accident, and we didn't see any reason to tell you as well.
Not at that age, anyways." John said.
"Oh, so you're just not going to tell me at all? Why is it
that I feel like my whole life I have been stabbed in the
back by all of the people that I love?" I said loudly.
"Stop, it. It's not like that at all. It was for your own
good."
"What? For my own good? How is not informing me that I'm
not a real person for my own good?" I shouted, extremely
angrily.
I could feel my face turning red from the shouting. But I
couldn't help but feel small and ignored, I felt like my
small voice dissipated on the way to John's ears.
"Why do you think you were turned into Michael in the first
place? You think it was because we wanted to play around
with your head? We had to hide you. Michael, you are a
hated person." John exclaimed.
"What are you talking about?" I said.
"There is a small group of people who hate you. They call
themselves the Watchers. They think that you are the reason
that the rest of the great races of dwarfs, hobbits,
giants, and orcs, etc. died out. They believe that the
reason that the last great races died out is not the cause
of natural reasons and disease, but of a great war. They
believe that there was a war in which the elves and the
dwarfs fought, because of a quarrel of land between the
two. They think that in this war, there was for long a
stalemate, and for long there were no victories, only
tragedies.
"It was then that the Watchers say the elves released a
toxin that enveloped all the land of the dwarfs. They say
that it ate and killed everything, and eventually spread
across all of the villages and towns through victims
traveling, and it is the cause of the extinction of these
people, until it ate not only the dwarfs' lands, but also
all the lands, and continued to kill off much of the races.
This is of course entirely false, but once the story got
out to a couple of easily angered and gullible Weres, who
believed the story looking for an explanation to the
history of the last great races, well, it became more of a
problem.
"They have formed together and hunt for you and your mother
and sister. They won't stop, and they haven't stopped. I'm
sorry you had to hear about this." He said, sounding
relieved to get it off of his chest.
Holy shit, I thought. This is huge. I felt totally lost,
but once again, the pieces were fitting. All the secrecy,
the hiding, the nervousness, it was all because of this. I
felt like I was in some sort of nightmare that I couldn't
wake up out of.
"Are you sure? How can you be certain that they haven't
just given up or forgotten about it since then? I mean it's
been sixteen years."
"They still exist. Unfortunately, their anger has only
grown stronger over the years. There have been, incidents,
in which they have learned or heard about your identity and
whereabouts, and we are not willing to take any chances.
These people are not something that can be disregarded or
forgotten about. Their presence is immanent, and they are
very dangerous. They are not stupid, and they will not just
forget about you. You are their lives. You have to
understand that they have dedicated their lives to bringing
'justice' to the world of Weres by killing you." My father
said gravely and solemnly.
I could not believe what I was hearing. "So what am I
supposed to do now? Just stay inside all day?"
"Actually, we haven't decided what to do yet. Your, err,
appearance is going to give you away pretty quickly.
Aralias is going to meet us here today and hopefully he
will have a plan for us."
"Aralias is actually coming over to our house. God, I can't
believe what's happening to me." I said quietly.
Aralias was the person that I had always heard about as a
kid. He was a hero, a giant father figure in the Were
world. He pretty controlled everything and took care of any
public relations problems (in example, a non-Were seeing a
Were). He was the guy that you would always hear your
parents talk about you they would talk about were "topics".
He always seemed to know what to do in a bad situation. And
he was ages old. Actually no one knows when he was born,
but we all seem to remember him as far back as anyone can
remember anything. He also happened to miraculously be the
only creature surviving that has magical capabilities. My
existence was evidence enough of that. And now this man was
coming to visit me in my home. It's like the pope coming to
visit an average Christian, it's just never heard of.
Then that was when things started to go badly. I felt
suddenly sick to my stomach, like I had to throw up. I
rushed out of the kitchen knocking over my chair and almost
tripping over the couch in the living room. I came crashing
into the bathroom and immediately started puking my pop
tarts from this morning's breakfast. It felt like it hadn't
even been partially digested, it was disgusting (not that I
had seen any puke that I didn't find disgusting). I hung my
head over the white porcelain throne and felt bad for my
self, while I thought about how bad things had gotten.
First I get turned into a girl, then I get disowned, then I
find out I'm being hunted by a crazy cult, and now to top
it all off I'm sick. Wonderful.
I reached my head out of the toilet, and flushed the
remains down into the ground, and then proceeded to gargle.
I didn't even hear John come in.
"Are you all right?"
"Ugh, yeah I guess so. I guess that means I'm sick on top
of being a girl. That's weird though, because I don't feel
sick or anything, actually I feel fine. I mean I don't feel
like I have the flu or anything."
"Michael, you didn't know?"
"Know what?" I said, wondering what other possible thing
there was to know about. What other secret could have
possibly been hidden from me?
"Dryads don't eat."
"Right. And I guess that on top of that they don't take
craps either." I said, definitely not in the mood for some
stupid joke.
"No really Michael, dryads don't eat much at all. They're
like plants I guess, they take in most energy from the sun,
and once in a while they will eat something, but its only
once a day, and they don't eat junk like pop-tarts." He
explained.
"Your serious? You mean to tell me that I don't eat regular
food?"
"Actually yes, you don't eat normal food. You'll eat things
with lots of protein and minerals, like vegetables. And you
don't eat meat either, or sweets. You eat pretty much just
fruits and vegetables. Pop-tarts have to be the worst food
for a dryad to eat; I guess that's why you threw it up.
It's all just sugar and bread." John said slowly, as if
trying to recall this information from the back of his mind
where he first heard about it in some magazine.
"You have to be kidding me. I would have heard about that
before. Come on, just fruits and vegetables? That's just
stupid." I said frustrated, trying to decide if what he was
saying was really true. I mean it just sounded like some
stupid parent joke about kids not liking fruits and
vegetables.
"I'm not sure about everything, but I am almost positive
that dryads don't eat pop-tarts. It doesn't really matter
right now anyways; we'll ask Aralias about it when he gets
here." My heart quickened again at the name of Aralias, and
I once again grew nervous in anxiety concerning the visit
of the man.
"When is that, exactly?" I asked, my anxiety showing
through.
"I don't know, he never actually said when he would be
coming."
"Oh." I said.
"Uh, listen. I think that Linda has some clothes laid out
for you if you feel uncomfortable in those. I mean, you
don't have to change if you don't want to..." He said
sounding nervous as well.
I knew what he meant. My mother probably had picked out
some of my sisters clothes for me to wear today. That was
something that I definitely did not feel that I needed to
experience today. In fact, at this point I wouldn't care
much if I never saw a piece of female clothing for the rest
of my life. That would just be too much. It would just feel
like I was giving up all former aspects of my life, and
adopting something totally foreign and scary. At least it
was scary then. I was scared enough as it was, I was hardly
sure who I was anymore. Hell, I don't even eat normal food
any more.
I looked back at the doorway and noticed that John had
left. I walked out of the bathroom leaving my warm
disgusting breakfast behind. I walked down the hallway, my
small dainty feet leaving no sound heard as they padded
through the soft carpet. In spite of everything that had
happened throughout the morning, I still found myself very
energetic and restless after the long nights sleep, and
resting around all day.
Even though inside I was torn and confused, physically I
felt better than I had in years. I felt like I could run a
marathon, and I felt more limber and flexible than ever.
Before I knew it, I found myself facing the screen door
going to our backyard, with the acreage of forest stretched
in front of me. I stepped quickly into the brisk air, now
warm from the noon sun. I felt wonderful as I basked in the
warm sun and its slight breeze. I ran quickly into the
forest, feeling the damp leaves against my feet, some
sticking to them. I felt my breasts bounce wildly and
sometimes painfully, and my hair dance around my face. I
didn't care, though. I ignored it and kept running at full
speed straight into the forest, watching ahead as the roots
and leaves below me passed furiously quick, and the trees
around me stretch over me, guiding me with a path that led
straight into the unknown.
I felt the soft glow of all the beings around me, and the
warmth that the souls left in my heart, ones of pure being.
Not of anger rage, or even excitement or happiness, just
nothing. Just pure content and well being. It was a nice
change from the harsh emotions and feelings from humans
that were always constantly changing and overwhelming. It
was nice to be somewhat free from the power of empathy that
I had lately found slightly obnoxious. It seemed like most
people would be jealous of my power of empathy, knowing how
everyone was feeling all the time, but I found it to be a
burden, something that wouldn't leave me alone, constantly
toying with my feelings and head.
So for now I just ran, feeling like I was one with nature,
letting all my frustrations and worries fall away with the
wind. I ran and ran until a tall young woman of startled
me.
She stood there silently, wearing jeans and a small purple
T-shirt that covered two small breasts. Her hair was
shoulder length, wavy and an unruly brown color, with small
leaves intertwined, looking all too familiar. She had a
small smirk on her face, like she had a little secret, like
one that you would get from a girlfriend who was playing
around with you. Her arms hung at her side, to her jeans
that looked like they were from the 80s, her ankles were
bare, and her feet were clad in unisex leather sandals that
were popular in cape-cod and all those northern beaches.
Her face was beautiful, with a small, defined chin, and a
long slender neck that made her look elegant. Her lips were
like mine, dark green, poisoned with small, nearly
invisible veins of bright green. Arms draped away from
slight shoulders, leading slender and thin to her graceful
fingers.
"So what are you running from?" She said, sounding very
casual, but her eyes twinkled and our eyes met for a brief
second when she did so.
"You, I guess." I said.
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