Twin Sister Delights Chapter 4 Twin Sisters Anal Delight
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My Best Friend's Sister Part 2 free porn video
I woke up in something of a daze. I felt for a few moments like I was
still myself, back in my old bed. That pleasant illusion was destroyed
when I opened my eyes.
I was lying in a large bed, with a gargantuan of a woman lying next to
me. It only took me a few moments to recognize her as Mrs. Taylor. The
room was covered in floral wallpaper and virtually all floor room was
taken by what appeared to be antique furniture. I was in Tom's
grandmother's room.
The events of the previous day flooded back to me all at once. I'd have
rather remained in my mild confusion than be confronted by those
dreaded events.
After we had discovered Stephanie's note, Mrs. Taylor decided to take
me into the emergency room to get my ribs checked out. Sure enough two
were broken, and my chest was wrapped up in bandages. I could remember
Mrs. Taylor insisting that I share a bed with her that night, because
she wanted to make sure I was okay.
I wasn't okay though. I couldn't stand being what I had become, a weak,
fragile little girl. My body was completely different, so helpless...
Physical changes were the least of my concern, however. My mind was a
chaotic with a struggle that was happening within me. Robin, while
still deranged by the device, had on three occasions "modified" my
mind.
The first time I was changed, Robin had drained me of courage.
Actually, that's not exactly right. She had made me more...
frightenable. The difference was first pointed out by Tom the night
before, who pointed out that I was still willing to be left behind so
that they could escape, as well I as endure Robin's interrogation .I
remember being scared beyond the point I'd ever been prior in my life,
but I was still able to stick it out.
The second change was probably the one that scared me the most. She had
made me more... feminine I guess. I'd found that since the night
before, I did act in a sort of girly way. Nothing blatant, but little
things that they do naturally, like sit with their knees together and
twirl their hair.
The third and final change was that she had made me somewhat shy. I
suppose shyer would be a better way to put it, since I had always been
a bit shy. I remembered trying to avoid eye contact with the nurses and
doctor at the hospital and not wanting to talk. How much of that was my
new demeanor and how much was just the strain from the rest of the
night's events I really didn't know.
I was wide-awake, and decided that I should get up and go some place
where I could be alone. I needed some time to think.
I rolled out of bed, making sure not to wake Mrs. Taylor. I tiptoed out
of the room, and wandered into the living room. I saw the stack of
Stephanie's clothes (my clothes now I guess) and decided that I'd might
as well get dressed. It was a cold fall morning, and the nightgown I
was wearing did little to protect me from this. I still wasn't
particularly impressed by the selection I had before me, however, as I
noticed that I still only had dresses and skirts to choose from. I
hoped that once Mrs. Taylor's house was done fumigating I would find
some sort of pants and the likes in my new wardrobe.
I threw on an ankle length floral patterned skirt and a white T-shirt,
as well as a pair of light pink tennis shoes and a navy blue jacket. I
thanked God that at least the jacket wasn't pink.
I sat on this big chair in front of the TV and began to try to take
some sort of appraisal as to the extent of the effects of my changes. I
felt normal, but different. I eventually was able to kind of explain it
to myself using terms I'd picked up in my psychology class. According
to Freud, people have an id, ego, and superego. The id is all of a
person's desires, and what they want to do. The superego is what a
person knows what their supposed to do, what society expects. The ego
is conscious thought and gets the job of mediating between the id and
superego. I determined that what Robin had done was reprogram my id,
while my superego remained the same. I was naturally inclined toward
behaving as the changes dictated, but my old superego still told me to
act like my old guy self. My ego was not happy about all this
contradiction.
I began to worry after a while that maybe if I stayed a little girl for
a while, my superego would change as society wanted other things from
me. Maybe then I'd lose a hold of my old Jason self. That scared me to
no end. The only consolation I could find was in telling myself that
I'd never allow it to happen. I would always hold myself to the
standard I had before had, and society be damned.
I then heard somebody coming from down the hall from the bedrooms. I
looked around the back of the chair, and could see Robin wandering into
the room. Much to my dismay, she spotted me.
"Um, hi Jason..." she said, obviously feeling guilty. I was torn
between feeling sorry for her and thinking she deserved to feel that
way.
"Hi," I replied, still not used to my voice.
"So, how are you doing?" she asked me.
"I've been better," I responded, a bit of bitterness obvious in my
voice. I felt it, too.
"Oh," she said, obviously upset with herself.
Robin walked over to grab some of her clothes from her stack that was
next to mine. She threw on jeans, a T-shirt and a sweater. I was a bit
jealous that she got to wear pants.
"So, what you up to?" she asked me, trying to kill the awkward silence.
"Nothing," I replied, somewhat sharply.
"Oh," she said again, definitely starting to feel bad. I could see
tears start up a little bit in her eyes. I started to feel bad.
"Look, I'm REALLY sorry!" she said, starting to sob a little bit, "I
didn't mean to. I mean, I wasn't myself!"
"No, but you were who you made yourself. You said you were trying to
make yourself more adultlike, and you ended up...you know..."
"But that wasn't how it was supposed to turn out. I mean, I was trying
to make myself, you know, more grown up. But I overdid everything. I
mean, I wanted to be a little less quiet and became overbearing. I
wanted to be more aggressive, and make myself violent. Then I screwed
up the twins too. I'm sorry! I didn't mean any of it!" She explained,
really starting to sob at the end there.
"Look," I said, starting to feel guilty for upsetting her, "I didn't
mean anything. I'm just, you know, stressed out. I mean, God, what
about my body, my family, my life? It's all gone! Now look at me! I'm
so small and weak! I feel like I'm being torn apart on the inside, and
I don't know if I can take it!"
Toward the end of my speech, I was starting to cry a bit too. My male
half wasn't pleased with that, which made me feel worse. I fell back
into the chair and put my face into my hands, trying to cover up my
face.
"I'm sorry," Robin said again, softly.
"I know," I replied, barely audible.
Robin left the room then. I sat there, full of so many goddamned
emotions. I was happy to be alone, afraid of my future, mad at Robin
(though not very, I understood why she did it I guess), and all sorts
of other feelings were there to. Eventually, all them faded into a
simple depression.
I just sat there for a while, afraid to think, afraid to feel, afraid
to exist. I was something I didn't want to be, and afraid of what that
meant for my future. I'd have preferred death to the torment that
engulfed my mind, body, and soul.
After a while sitting there in my catatonic state, Mrs. Taylor entered
the room. She was still wearing her nightgown, and her hair was all
over the place. I guessed that she had just gotten up.
"Hey," she said, "you're up early."
"I guess," I replied. I looked at a clock, it was already 9 o'clock. I
guess they slept in a lot in Tom's family.
"You want me to make you some breakfast," she asked me, sounding
concerned.
"No thanks," I replied.
"You sure? When was the last time you've eaten?" she asked.
"I ate before you got up," I lied. I wanted her off my back.
"Oh, okay," she responded, falling for it. She went into the kitchen
and it sounded like she made some coffee, a suspicion that was only
confirmed when she came back into the room holding a cup of the stuff.
"So, how you doing?" she asked me as she sat down on the couch. She
definitely seemed concerned, which wasn't too surprising.
"Good enough," I snorted.
"You want me to help you with your hair? It's a bit of a mess."
"That's alright. I like it this way."
"Jason, come over here," she said, patting the couch next to her. I
didn't feel like arguing, and followed the command, taking the seat.
She put an arm around my shoulders, and began talking really softly.
"Jason, I know you're going through a lot right now. I can't even hope
to understand what's going on in that little mind of yours. I just want
you to understand that whatever happens, here on out, we'll be here to
help you. I'll be here to help you."
"Uh huh," I half-heartedly grunted.
"I mean it, okay. You don't have to go through this alone. You have
people who care about you, do you understand that?"
"Sure, I guess."
"Well, I guess I'd better go see how the house's fumigation is coming
along. It should just about be finished."
"Alright."
With that, Mrs. Taylor exited the room, probably going to get dressed
and stuff. Yet again, I was left alone with my thoughts. I thought
about how weird it was going to be, living with Tom's family. I didn't
want to, I can tell you that much. It didn't dislike them or anything;
I just wanted to go back to my old life, which I know was impossible.
That just made me feel worse.
Mrs. Taylor left as she said she would, and it sounded like she took
Robin with her. The house was quiet then for a while until I heard Tom
emerge finally from his room. When he came into the room, undoubtedly
on his way to the kitchen, he was still in his pajamas and appeared to
still be half asleep.
"Um, hi Steph... er... Jason," he said as he spotted me on the couch.
"Hi," I fairly quietly replied, still pretty caught up in my thoughts
and not really up for chatting.
"You doin okay?" he asked, apparently decided that food could wait and
headed over to the chair I was earlier occupying.
"Fine," I told him, obviously not meaning it.
"Look, dude, I'm sorry about all of this. I mean, you know, it's
because of my family that you're, you know, like that. If you need
anything, and I mean anything, just tell me, alright?" he asked
"Okay," I half-heartedly responded. I knew that was an offer I'd never
take him up on.
There got to be something of an awkward silence as the two of us sat
there. I mean, he saw his little sister but knew it was still his
friend sitting before him. I knew he saw his sister before him, and
felt really self-conscious. I began to wonder if our friendship could
ever continue as it had been.
With neither of us speaking, Tom got up and went to the kitchen,
probably to get some breakfast. I was kind of relieved when he left.
Besides, I was finally alone again.
I sat there in my solitary trance again. This time I began to wonder if
I would forever be stuck in the shadow of the person who had once
inhabited this body. I mean, Tom still saw me in a lot of ways as his
little sister, and I had no doubt the rest of the family felt the same
way. I wanted to be independent of that, be my own person. I didn't
want to lose myself.
I was deep in concentration when I heard the front door open. Mrs.
Taylor and Robin were back.
"Jason," Robin said as she came into the room.
"Yeah?"
"Get your stuff packed up. We're going to head back to the house."
"Alright..."
I hopped off my spot and went to the pile of clothes. I spotted a pink
backpack that I figured was probably mine. I stuffed it full of all the
clothes I could identify as mine and carried it out to the car.
I had a few minutes until the twins were roused to consciousness and
had packed up their stuff. When I saw them, my heart skipped a beat.
Timmy seemed normal, but Billy had this devious air about him. I then
remembered that he had never been able to have his personality
restored. He glared at me with a sort of fury in his eyes. I could tell
then that he was going to be a problem.
"Alright, let's go," Mrs. Taylor said. The twins and I hopped into the
back of the Mrs. Taylor's station wagon while Robin got up front in the
passenger side seat. I sat over by the driver's side window, while
Billy sat between me and Timmy.
When Billy got next to me, he gave me a quick punch in the arm. I
wanted to make a cry, but he shot me this look of pure hatred that got
me to shut keep quiet. I got the feeling he blamed me for their plan's
failure.
It wasn't a long drive to Tom's mom's house, but it felt like an
eternity, with Billy constantly elbowing and kicking me whenever he saw
nobody was looking. Once the car stopped, I didn't hesitate to get out.
I grabbed my backpack and followed the group inside. I had been there
only once, on Tom's birthday the previous year. Be that as it were, I
was somewhat lost. Picking up on this, Mrs. Taylor showed me the way to
my room.
Really I should have expected what I encountered. The room was
surrounded by this pink wallpaper, with wood floors. My bed was covered
in a blue bedspread and located in the far corner. It was also occupied
by an old stuffed monkey. On the wall adjacent to the door there was a
dresser with what appeared to be a make-up kit (that wasn't getting any
use any time soon), as well as a little Barbie radio. As for the other
two walls, one had a stand with a television on it and the other had a
closet. I made a mental note to check out my newly expanded wardrobe.
As soon as Mrs. Taylor left, I locked the door and laid down on my new
bed. I was thankful that at least now I could be alone without anybody
randomly wandering in as they had in the living room at Tom's place.
I began to wonder about the life I had been thrust into. Who were
Stephanie's friends? What kind of grades had I inherited from her? What
kind of personality was I expected to have? I began to stress that
maybe people would begin to see through my cover and know that I wasn't
who I claimed to be.
My first question was answered when after an hour or two there was a
knocking at the door.
"Who's there?" I asked.
"It's me," Mrs. Taylor responded.
"What do you want?"
"I need to talk to you about something."
I hopped up and unlocked the door. The two of us sat down on my bed and
she began to speak. In her hand she had what appeared to be a couple
photos.
"Okay, now I know you probably don't want to deal with this yet, but
I've been thinking. Tomorrow's Monday, a school day. That means class,
friends, the works."
"Does this mean I have to go back to the fifth grade? I asked. I really
shouldn't have been too surprised, but I simply hadn't thought of it.
"Fourth grade actually."
"Great."
"Anyway, let's start with your friends. Now, you're best friends with
this little girl named Jessica," she explained, showing me a picture.
It was of Stephanie and who I assumed was Jessica at a birthday party.
She appeared to be about an inch taller than me, with really dark brown
hair and blue eyes. She seemed in the picture to be a bit, um,
energetic.
"Wonderful..." was all I managed to get out.
"Now," Mrs. Taylor continued, "the two of you have known each other
since, hmm, the first grade I think. Anyway, I guess I should tell you
that she's a bit of a clown. She seems to get you guys into most of
your trouble, but I'm not going to worry about that too much."
"Thanks for the confidence," I said sarcastically.
"Now on to class. Robin tells me that you're in room 15. She says she
thinks you sit in the row closest to the door, third from the front."
"Alright, got it."
"One more thing, Jessica has called a couple times since we got back. I
think it'd be a good idea if you started to get to know her."
"Why?"
"Because she's supposed to be your best friend."
"So I'm supposed to simply inherit my friends with no choice in the
matter?"
"Would you prefer to be a social recluse?"
"Sounds like a plan to me."
"Look," she said, sounding a bit irritated that I was being difficult,
"I just want you to give Stephanie's old friends a shot. I mean, if you
want new friends, make some new ones. Besides, I think you two will hit
it off."
"Ugh, whatever," I responded as I laid down, burying my face in my
pillow. Frankly this was all becoming a bit too much to handle. I was
starting to feel like I was going to be torn apart from the insides.
"I know it's going to be hard on you, and I'm not going to make you go
back tomorrow, or even this week if you're not ready, but it's
something you have to face eventually. One way or the other, you've got
to make the best of this new life you've got," she explained, while
rubbing me on the back with one of her huge hands.
The whole thing was starting to get to be too much again. Mrs. Taylor
probably sensed that and left me be. I began to think that maybe I
wouldn't be able to handle this new life. Maybe the only way out was
death. I hate to admit it, but I seriously considered suicide while
lying there that day.
A few hours passed, and Mrs. Taylor came by to tell me dinner was
ready. I told her I wasn't hungry. I doubt that she bought it, but
probably felt that it wasn't worth pushing.
The day eventually gave way into night, and I tried to sleep. I found
some baby blue pajamas in the dresser, which I was more than happy to
wear instead of that little nightgown. I tried to sleep, but between
not being tired from my relative inactivity all day, and the mounting
stress, I couldn't.
The night passed slowly, and only gave me more time to wallow in my
despair. I had never been that depressed before. Between the
depression, sleeplessness, and hunger (which was now getting really
annoying), I was completely miserable.
I got out of bed and quietly as I could and headed out to the kitchen.
I dug through the drawers for a while until I found what it was I was
looking for... a knife.
The sharp end of the blade floated just above my exposed wrist. I knew
that a quick slash, a cut, and the pain would be over. It all seemed
too logical, so easy. A quick way to stop all of the pain I was feeling
on the inside. I got the knife in position, took a deep breath, and
began the final action I had intended ever to take.
My wrist, however, fell out of the way of the coming blade, getting
slightly nicked, but not nearly to the point where it would be fatal. I
couldn't do it. It was a hard thing to make yourself make that final
move, and I realized that I wasn't ready to do it.
After the knife incident, I put it away and went back into my room. I
laid down in bed and thought about what had just happened. I realized
that while I didn't really want to live this way, I didn't want to die
yet either. I realized I was stuck in limbo, swinging between life and
death, and that eventually I'd have to choose one. But that night was
not that time, and I drifted off to a fitful sleep.
The next morning I regretted my decision. Deep down inside I felt that
if there was a way to be changed, there was a way to be changed back.
Maybe that's what drove me to choose life, at least for the moment, the
night before. That morning, however, I learned that there was no going
back.
Tom had apparently gotten a call from my parents, my real parents. They
told him that Stephanie, in my body, was dead. She had gotten into a
car accident on the highway leading out of town, and had been instantly
killed.
Everybody was upset. Tom had lost something between a best friend and a
sister. Mrs. Taylor still loved Stephanie, as did the other kid. As for
me, I didn't feel like it was Stephanie who died. I felt like it was me
who died.
To be continued...
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