The Outsiders free porn video

This story was inspired from the Highlander movies and TV series but takes place in a separate world with its own rules. The Outsiders By Morpheus It was a dark and windy night as I staggered home from the bar, more than a little drunk. I staggered just a little with each step, enough to reveal to anyone who saw that I wasn't completely sober. However, I made a straight line home, eager to climb into bed. I only dreaded going to work in the morning with the hangover I was bound to have. This was the second time I'd gotten drunk enough to have a bad hangover this month, though at least this time I had a good excuse. I was helping my friend Ed celebrate his birthday until he'd run off with his girlfriend, so they could celebrate in private. That left me to finish up my beer and go home alone. Fortunately the bar was only a couple blocks from home, so I could make it there without worrying about transportation. "The guys at work would slaughter me if I got a DUI," I muttered to myself, especially after I'd chewed out one of them for driving to work drunk last month. If I got a DUI after that, I'd be heckled for weeks. There was no way I was going to risk that. "At least I don't have to walk far." The garage where I worked as a mechanic was a pretty laid back place, but we tended to mess with each other whenever possible. The only thing that kept the practical jokes and taunting under control was that none of us was stupid enough to ignore safety. Well, except for the guy who came in drunk and I was quick to remind him of how stupid that was. My name is Kyle Simmons and I'm a 22 year old auto mechanic, a career which I'd never really aimed for, but sort of fell into. The work could get dirty and time consuming, but that was all right with me. The pay was decent, I dealt with different things every day, and I worked with some pretty cool guys. Unfortunately most girls guessed I was a mechanic pretty quickly from the fact that I was frequently smeared with grease. Other than that, I didn't think I was too bad looking. I was 6 foot 2, a bit on the skinny side and with dark hair that looked a bit messy. But that was me all over. I always looked unkempt and messy, which was probably why I didn't have a girlfriend at the moment. "Almost home," I muttered as I looked down at my watch, wincing at the early hour. I wouldn't have much time to sleep before I had to get up for work, which meant I'd be tired and have a hangover. "Tomorrow's really gonna suck..." I was just about home when a flash of light caught my attention. I blinked and looked over at my neighbor's house, hearing a bunch of noise coming from inside. There were the sounds of smashing and flashes of light coming from the window. Then the front door burst open and a man went flying back, hitting the ground on his back. "Shit," I gasped as I saw my neighbor step out the door a moment later. My neighbor Marissa was somewhere in her late twenties to mid thirties, though I didn't know for sure. In fact, I didn't really know much about her other than that she was a pretty hot looking brunette who taught a renaissance art class at the local community college. At the moment though, she stood in the doorway of her house with a glowing sword in her hand. "What the hell is going on?" I gasped, thinking that this was one hell of a lovers spat. The man on the ground quickly got back to his feet, revealing that he was pretty tall and muscular. He also revealed that he had a sword in his hand as well, though his was a large two handed broadsword that reminded me a little of Conan. Then to my surprise he charged at Marissa, swinging his sword. "I've got to call the cops," I gasped, though I was unable to tear myself away from this long enough to do that. Marissa used her sword to block the man's attack, then she swung her own sword at him, slashing his arm a bit. He didn't seem to notice though and swung his sword again. She blocked the slash, but the force was enough to knock her off balance and to the ground. While she quickly scrambled back to her feet, he charged and ran his sword through her stomach, so that more than a foot of metal stuck out from her back. I could only stare in horror, frozen in the moment and unable to think of what to do. "No fucking way," I gasped, thinking that this was like some kind of movie. Marissa gasped in pain, while the large man sneered. But then Marissa snarled and swung her sword before he had a chance to pull his from her stomach and block with it. Her sword hit his neck and went through it as though there wasn't a single bone to get in the way. She gasped in pain and dropped to her knees while he collapsed to the ground with his head bouncing several feet away. "Fuck..." I turned pale, then emptied my stomach onto the sidewalk beside me. When I looked up, Marissa was getting back to her feet and no longer had the sword sticking through her. She looked like she was in pain, but otherwise not badly hurt. Then I noticed that the man she'd beheaded was starting to glow. A white light began to pour out of his body and swirl around her. She stood there with the glow surrounding her, a strange look on her face. Then the glow faded and she collapsed to her knees again. I winced at the sight, hardly able to believe what I was seeing. I gasped even louder when I realized that the dead man was gone, that his body had just vanished, though his clothes seemed to have been left behind. It was then that I realized what this all was. I was drunk and seeing things. This kind of stuff didn't happen and it wasn't. It was all in my mind. "I need to get to bed," I grumbled, shaking a bit as I turned and hurried home as quickly as I could. "I've definitely had too much to drink." -------------------- I leaned back in my recliner and scratched my balls, absently thinking that I should probably get dressed. It was early afternoon and I was still sitting around in my boxers and watching TV. It was one of the benefits of having a day off, but I couldn't very well get anything done unless I bothered to move. "Nothing on TV," I muttered as I flipped through the channels with the remote. After going through all of them twice, I finally turned off the TV and got up. A few minutes later I was dressed and ready to go. I absently ran a comb through may hair, though it didn't do much for it. Still it was enough and I was ready to start my day. The only thing missing was something to actually do. "Maybe I should go see if Ed's up for something," I mused. I hadn't really seen him since his birthday a month earlier and was wondering what he was up to. I tried calling Ed but there was no answer, ending that idea. Still I was tired of being cooped up in my small house and decided to go find something else to do. Maybe I could go see if there were any new movies playing. If nothing else, I still had to get some groceries. My cupboards were getting dangerously empty. When I stepped out the door, I saw Marissa in her driveway next door, looking under the hood of her car and cursing loud enough for me to hear. I couldn't help but remembering that strange dream I'd had about her last month, chuckling as I did so. It's strange the things you imagine while drunk. "You need a hand?" I called out as I walked towards her. Marissa looked up and sighed, "I'm afraid I don't know much about cars. It won't start." "Mind if I take a look?" I asked. "Go ahead," Marissa told me, stepping out of the way. However I didn't need to get under the hood just yet. Instead I asked her to try starting the car so I could see what happened. Power was coming from the battery, but the engine just wouldn't turn over. I got under the hood and took a look, quickly figuring out what the problem was. It would be easy to fix once I had the right part. "Don't worry," I assured Marissa, "the parts are only about twenty bucks and I'll throw the labor in free." Marissa laughed at that. "Thank you." "If you want," I gestured to my own car, "I can give you a ride to the parts store and show you what you need." "I would appreciate it." She smiled at me. About half an hour later Marissa's car was running fine and she was obviously happy about it. "Thank you very much," she told me with a nod, "I don't know what I would have done without your help." "You probably would have towed it to a garage," I grinned at her, "and spent about three hundred between the towing and labor." Then I shrugged. "Just don't tell my boss or he might get mad I cost him a customer." "I promise I won't tell on you," Marissa told me with a look of amusement. She hesitated a moment. "Would you like to come in for an espresso?" Then she quickly added, "Please don't get the wrong idea. I just wanted to thank you for your help." "Sure," I responded, curious to see her house. We'd been neighbors for more than a year, but I'd never been inside her house. In fact this was the most time I'd ever spent with her. When I stepped inside her house, I was a little startled by her choice of decor. The furniture looked to be mostly fancy antique pieces and there were some old renaissance type paintings on the walls. There were also several swords on the walls as well, suddenly reminding me of that strange dream I had. "I have a fondness for antiques," Marissa told me with an amused smile. "Some of these pieces have been in my family for centuries." "Wow," I said, looking at one of the swords and then at a painting. "That is a DaVinci," Marissa stated proudly, then quickly added, "a replica of course." "I kind of figured that," I grinned. "I mean, something he really painted would have to be worth millions." Marissa merely nodded at that. "Of course." "And you teach this kind of stuff at the community college?" I asked as I looked around. "Making a living from my own interests seemed an intelligent thing to do," she told me with a look of amusement. "Now let me fix our espressos... How do you like yours?" A short time later we were sitting down and sipping espresso while Marissa pointed to the various paintings and art pieces in her living room, telling me a little about each of the artists. It was obvious that she both knew her subject and loved it. However it was all kind of boring to me and I just nodded and pretended that I was interested. Suddenly Marissa froze, her expression instantly becoming deadly serious. The only time I'd ever seen her with that expression was in my dream. She immediately looked around her living room, scowling deeply. "You have to go," she suddenly insisted, "you have to go now..." "What?" I gasped in surprise as she got to her feet, looking around with a dangerous expression, looking as though she was expecting to be jumped any moment. I got up, beginning to get worried. Marissa was acting pretty weird and I wondered if maybe she had some sort of mental problems and was off her meds. She certainly was acting like it all of a sudden. Just then there was a loud crashing sound of glass being broken and Marissa jumped to her feet. "Go," she told me coldly. "RUN!" I jumped to my feet, not about to just leave her with some kind of burglar. I reached for her phone to call the police but froze as a glowing sword appeared out of nowhere in Marissa's hand. It was exactly like the sword in my dreams. "WHAT THE FUCK?" I demanded. Almost before the words had left my mouth, a woman stepped through the door, coming from the next room where I'd heard the breaking glass. She was fairly tall for a woman, standing about 5 foot 10. She was also very beautiful, with dark blonde hair. She was wearing black boots, black pants, and a red shirt that drew attention to her cleavage. But in spite of that, the thing that drew my attention the most was the fact that she was holding a glowing sword as well. "Patrice De Nasia," Marissa hissed furiously, apparently forgetting all about me as she focused on the intruder. "What the hell is going on?" I demanded in confusion. "I told you to get out of here," Marissa snapped, not sparing me a glance. "It's too late for him," the blonde said, "you know the rules about witnesses..." Marissa just snarled and jumped at the blonde, slashing away with her sword. The blonde blocked it and launched into an attack of her own. They two began slashing at each other and blocking, moving so fast that I could barely even follow it. I felt like I was suddenly caught in the middle of an action movie or something. "I knew you'd come after me again someday Patrice," Marissa exclaimed, "I knew you were too stupid to stay away... I should have finished you then..." "I'll be the one doing the finishing," the blonde... Patrice snarled, holding out her hand and suddenly shooting out a ball of blue light which caught Marissa in the chest and flung her across the room to slam into the wall. Marissa scrambled back to her feet and held out her own hand. Suddenly a glowing disk of yellow light appeared in the air in front of her, just in time to block another of Patrice's glowing blue balls. I stared at the fight in disbelief, then suddenly remembered the phone. I dove for the phone to call the police, but Marissa slashed the phone line with her sword. "Don't call anyone," she exclaimed, "just run... Get out of here while you can..." "I'm going to enjoy taking your head," Patrice exclaimed with a grin. "You can try," Marissa spat back, "you couldn't last time you tried though..." Patrice just laughed. "I've gotten stronger since then..." Then she launched into another attack with her sword. I stared at their viscous fight for a few more seconds before I finally decided to follow Marissa's instructions and run. I turned and raced out of the house as fast as I could, afraid that the crazy woman would come after me with her sword next. At the same time I was also afraid of Marissa, since I'd never seen anything like this from her. "Glowing swords and glowing balls of light..." I exclaimed in fear, "it's like I'm stuck in Lord of the Rings or something..." I got home as fast as I could and grabbed my own phone to call the police. But as I started dialing the number, I thought about Marissa's warning not to call anyone. She was pretty insistent... Considering the fact that she had her own glowing sword, she probably had a pretty good reason too. "DAMN!" I screamed, thankful to get away from there but knowing that I couldn't just abandon Marissa like that. I didn't know her all that well, but I couldn't just run away without doing anything at all. "I have to do something..." I suddenly had an idea and ran to my closet, throwing things out of the way as I dug for what was in the back of it. I pulled out my old double barreled shotgun. It had been a gift from my dad back when we used to go shooting together. I quickly loaded a couple shells and ran back to Marissa's house, thinking that a warning shot and threat should be enough to end this insanity. When I stepped back into Marissa's house, I gasped in horror. "Holy shit...!" The living room looked as though a grenade had gone off in it, leaving large holes and tears in nearly everything in the room...including Marissa who laid bleeding all over the floor. Marissa's arm was bent at an unnatural angle and she was spitting up blood as she struggled to get back up. "You didn't expect that trick, did you?" Patrice laughed coldly as she pulled her sword out of Marissa's abdomen, "Now your head is mine..." "STOP!" I yelled as Patrice raised her sword to strike at Marissa's exposed neck. "What...?" Patrice turned and stared at me with a look of surprise. "You came back?" Then she noticed my shotgun pointed straight at her and actually laughed. "You mortals are so predictable..." "No," Marissa gasped weakly, staring at me in horror. Patrice began to swing her sword as she came at me, but I pulled the trigger, sending a barrel full of shotgun pellets right through her stomach. She was thrown back and landed on the floor, while I stared at her, horrified at what I'd just done. I'd just shot a woman... I'd just killed someone... "Oh shit," I gulped, shaking as I stood there. But then Patrice got back to her feet and actually laughed. She ran a hand over her stomach, wincing as she did so. Then she looked at me with a cold fury. "You made a big mistake mortal. It's going to be your last..." "You can't kill her with a gun." Marissa grimaced as she struggled to get to her feet, revealing large holes and punctures all through her body. She'd been hurt even worse than I thought, but she was still trying to get up, though without much success. Patrice came at me again, leaving no doubt that she intended to kill me. I held a loaded shotgun in my hands, but I was actually terrified of some woman with a sword. She'd shrugged off being shot as though it was nothing more than an annoyance. It was the same way Marissa had reacted to being impaled in my dream... "Not a dream," I gasped, fully realizing for the first time that what I'd seen hadn't been the delusional imaginings of a drunken mind. It had really happened. I had no idea how it was possible, but it had really happened. "Do you really still think that toy can hurt me?" Patrice demanded mockingly. Then she raised her sword and came at me. I stared at her in frozen terror, suddenly thinking of Marissa's other sword fight with that man... She'd stopped him with just a sword. She'd killed him by... She'd killed him by taking off his head... I reacted in desperation the instant I realized this, raising the shotgun a little higher even as Patrice was swinging her sword. Her head suddenly exploded in red mist and her body stood there headless for a moment before collapsing to the floor. "Oh God," I gasped as I collapsed to the ground as well, feeling sick to my stomach. "You couldn't have," Marissa exclaimed, staring at me in disbelief. "That's impossible..." Just then Patrice's body began to glow, just as the man Marissa beheaded had. A strange white light poured out of it and swirled around me. I sat up, gasping as I felt a strange pressure, a tickling that seemed to reach further and further under my skin. Then the glowing light began rush into my body, making my blood suddenly feel as though it had been replaced by acid. I screamed in agony, lost in the fire that filled my body. "Kyle!" Marissa exclaimed as she pulled herself towards me. "This is impossible... IMPOSSIBLE!" I barely heard Marissa though since I was lost in the overwhelming pain. It was so complete, so total that I begged for it to end. I begged for unconsciousness or even death. This burning agony seemed to go on forever, though I later learned it was less than a minute before it finally ended and I collapsed to the ground in complete and total exhaustion. -------------------- When I came to, I was in a room I'd never seen before in my life, laying on a king sized bed. I slowly sat up and looked around, feeling extremely strange. My whole body tingled and there was a sort of warm buzzing inside of me, as though my blood was somehow humming. "You're awake," Marissa said, causing me to turn. I saw her standing in the doorway, still wearing her torn and bloody clothes. She was bent over a bit and when she stepped towards me she limped. "I'm surprised you're up so fast..." "How...how long was I unconscious?" I asked, though I had a thousand more important questions I wanted to ask. "Only about fifteen minutes," Marissa told me with a scowl. "I was just starting to clean up..." I stared at her for a moment and climbed off the bed, noticing that my own clothes were now bloody as well. I didn't think I'd really been hurt, but maybe I fell on some broken glass when I hit the floor. Then again, I gulped as I realized it might very well be Patrice's blood. "What...what the hell is going on?" I demanded, climbing off the bed and nearly falling on my face. My limbs felt all weak and rubbery for some reason. I obviously wasn't fully recovered from my little fainting spell. Marissa stared at me for nearly a minute with a strange look in her eyes, scowling as she did so. I met her eyes and refused to look away, determined to find out what was going on.. Then she nodded and turned away with a loud sigh. "You...you saw what happened last month, didn't you?" she asked me quietly. I took a deep breath and gulped, thinking of my drunken delusion which hadn't been. "Yeah," I said, my voice a bit shaky. "I thought I'd been imagining things..." "I thought you might have," she sighed again. "I'm also glad you didn't tell anyone." "Who'd have believed me?" I asked with a forced smile. "I didn't even believe I really saw it." "I'll explain everything," Marissa said, looking at me again. "After this, you deserve to know the truth. But first you have to promise me that you won't tell anyone." When I didn't say anything she insisted, "You have to promise. It's important." "All right," I responded grimly. I hated to make a promise when I didn't really know what I was promising, but I had to know what was going on. "You'll probably find this difficult to believe." Marissa gave me a forced smile and gestured for me to follow her. "I think I want to have a drink while telling you... You'll probably want a drink as well..." Marissa led me back to the living room which was just as destroyed as it had been, with her wet blood still staining the carpet. However, the only sign of Patrice being killed there were her clothes laying on the floor. There was no sign of her decapitated body, which though may have vanished the same way that man's had. Marissa went to the dining room and pulled a crystal container from the liquor cabinet and poured two full glasses. She held the container for a moment, looking as though she was trying to decide how to say what she wanted to. After putting the container down and taking a large drink from her glass, she said, "This is not easy to explain at the best of times." She stared at me again, looking at me with an odd expression. "What's going on?" I asked gently this time, urging her to start. "My name...the name of my birth is unimportant," Marissa stated softly, staring into her drink rather than at me. "I gave it up long ago. I was born on the outskirts of Florence, Italy, in the year 1485. I am over five hundred years old...and I can not die." I just stared at her in amazement, not sure what to say to that. I would have laughed and thought she was joking if it wasn't for the strange things I'd already seen. I mean, I'd seen her completely impaled by a man's sword and then up and going without any signs of it the next day. Now I didn't know what to believe. "As you might have guessed," Marissa told me with a wry smile, gesturing to her living room, "I am not the only one of my kind. We call ourselves Outsiders because we live outside normal human society and concepts of time." "That woman," I said weakly. "Patrice De Nasia," Marissa frowned. "At least that is the only name I know her by. Yes, she is...was an Outsider. She tried to kill me about eighty years ago too, though she was a lot stronger this time." "My God," I gasped, shaking my head, "why...?" "That is the big question," Marissa sighed, taking another large gulp of her drink, then filling her glass back to the top. "You must understand, we live outside normal human rules...but we do follow rules of our own. One of the most important," she stared straight at me, "is that we are not to have any witnesses to what we are. We are to kill anyone who knows of our existence." "Oh shit," I gulped, suddenly wary of Marissa. Was she planning to kill me now? "I will not harm you," she sighed, "not now..." "You knew I saw you last month," I said slowly, realizing that she'd known that and hadn't tried anything. "I suspected," she admitted. "But when you didn't say anything about it, I thought you were safe." "But now?" I demanded. Marissa forced a smile. "Circumstances have changed. But you can't tell anyone of this. It is for their safety as much as my own." "Okay," I nodded agreement, knowing that no one would believe me anyway. "I don't know where we come from or why we are," Marissa admitted. "Some say we have always existed, though the oldest I know of is only fifteen hundred years old." "Holy shit," I whispered, unable to imagine living that long. Marissa merely nodded, frowning thoughtfully. "No one knows where we come from, though all have their ideas. Some think we are blessed from God while others think we are creatures of the devil. More recently though, some have decided that we are genetic mutations, the next step in evolution. I do not know about that though as our abilities are beyond anything I can imagine of science." "So you're like mutants?" I asked, thinking of the X Men movies, though Marissa showed no signs of really hearing me. She paused to sip her drink and stared at me. "We are born of normal humans and live as such ourselves. Even we do not know what we are until our true selves awaken. This happens while we are under great stress, often grave injury or the threat of death. When this happens, the hidden power inside us responds, making us nearly immortal and granting us special abilities." "Nearly immortal?" I frowned. "Special gifts? Do you mean like that ball of light Patrice threw at you?" "We cease to age," Marissa explained. "We are immune from disease. We also heal from even mortal wounds in a very short time. But as you have already seen, we can still die. If our vital organs are severely damaged and unable to heal, we will eventually die. However, the fastest and most sure method is the removal of our heads." "Shit," I winced, thinking of the woman whose head I'd shot off. I felt sick just thinking about it, even if she had been about to kill both me and Marissa. "As for our special abilities," Marissa told me, "there are a few things each Outsider can do, but each is also granted a unique talent or power. These start out weak at first but grow stronger and more powerful over the decades. Unfortunately, these special abilities are why we fight among ourselves." "I don't understand," I frowned. Suddenly I was hit by a seizure which shot through my whole body. I felt the strange warmth in my blood sparking up again. I gasped and clutched the table for a moment until it passed, then I just sat there panting. "Are you okay?" Marissa asked me with a worried look. "I...I don't know," I responded, closing my eyes and taking a large gulp of my drink. I had no idea of what was going on, but I hadn't been hurt in the fight. "You said something about your abilities..." "Of course," Marissa responded, still looking at me with concern as well as something else I couldn't quite identify. "You might call them magic powers. Each of us has a different one. In past centuries, people sometimes called us witches or sorcerers because of them." "Like the X men," I said, once again reminded of the movies. "Humans fear that which is different," Marissa stated grimly, "and they destroy that which is different, especially if it is also powerful. Jealousy and fear and dangerous things. This is why we protect the secret of our existence so fiercely. It is perhaps our most important rule." Marissa finished downing her second glass, then poured herself a third, not seeming to be drunk in the least. I was just finishing up my first and helped myself to another glass without asking. "When one of us is killed," Marissa said carefully, as if trying to make sure she chose every word correctly, "our power...the energy that is our life essence is left behind and is absorbed by the one who killed us. This life essence increases the strength of our own abilities... and gives us those of the one we killed. When I killed Eckart last month, I gained his abilities and those who had taken from others. They are still very weak in me and will take decades to grow to the strength they were in him." I stared at Marissa, absorbing what she'd said. "So when you kill one another," I whispered, "you get new powers..." "Yes," Marissa nodded. "Some Outsiders crave power and hunt down others of our kind to gain more. But it is also more than that." She grimaced. "We have a very old saying, that in the end, there can be only one. There is a very strong belief that we are meant to kill each other off until only one of us remains. Some believe it is a great game and the very purpose of our existence." "My God," I whispered, suddenly thinking that immortality might not be all it's cracked up to be. These people could live forever, but spent the entire time fighting among themselves and killing each other. It was insane. "Many if not most of our kind believe that there is purpose to our existence," Marissa explained with a thoughtful look. "Think of it as a large puzzle and each Outsider's ability is a single piece. With every Outsider who is born, whatever force created us is placing another piece of that puzzle onto the table. Many collect as many of these pieces as they can, believing that one day every piece of the puzzle will be available and whoever is able to collect and assemble them all will see the complete picture and have the power of a god." I just stared at Marissa, unable to say anything in response to this. This revelation was absolutely amazing and created a picture of immortal beings in a lethal, never ending game of king of the hill. As long as more Outsiders kept being born, the game could never truly end. It could go on forever. "Some Outsiders hunt others because they crave more power," Marissa said as though it was perfectly normal. "Some because they want to complete the puzzle and win the ultimate prize." "What about you?" I asked Marissa, realizing that I truly didn't know this woman. I'd been living next door to her but she was a complete and total stranger to me. "I am not certain I believe in an ultimate prize," Marissa admitted, "or if I would even want it. I merely wish to be strong enough to survive the hunters who come after me." She shook her head in disgust. "Two within a month... It's been years since the last attempt." "All this..." I shook my head in amazement. "I never knew you people existed. I mean, this is all supposed to be impossible..." Then I gulped. "How many of you are there?" "Not many," Marissa acknowledged. "Though no one is certain, I believe there are less than a thousand of us in the entire world." Then she stared at me again with a strange expression before finally saying, "There is a reason that I am telling you this." "Because I saved you from her?" I suggested, remembering how Patrice had been about to chop off Marissa's head when I returned with my shotgun. "In part," Marissa smiled faintly then stared at me with an odd expression that made me uncomfortable. "When you killed Patrice, YOU absorbed her life energy... I don't know how...but you're not human anymore. You're one of us. You're an Outsider." "WHAT?" I stared at Marissa in disbelief, half sure she was joking in spite of the deadly serious look she had on her face. "It's not possible," Marissa quickly exclaimed, "but I can sense your presence now the way I can any Outsider." She shook her head as though not believing this herself. "Mortals have killed Outsiders before... It's extremely rare, but it's happened. But this... I've never... NEVER heard of a mortal absorbing our life energies or becoming an Outsider. NEVER!" "But that's..." I shook my head, positive that she was wrong. "When an Outsider dies," Marissa continued, pausing to take a long drink. She looked just as shaken as I was. "When one of us dies, our energies go to a nearby Outsider...usually our killer. If there isn't another Outsider close enough, our energies quickly dissipate. I've never heard of them going to a normal human before. Maybe...maybe whatever force created us decided that if you could kill an Outsider you deserve to be one. I don't know. This is completely new to me..." I was about to argue that Marissa was wrong when I felt the burning rush through me again. I gasped aloud and dropped to the floor, convulsing in seizures. Then my guts all clenched up into a tight knot of cramps, hurting like hell. I curled up in a ball of pain, though it was nothing like the agony I went through after killing Patrice. "Kyle!" Marissa exclaimed as she rushed to my side, looking worried. "Damn!" I exclaimed as the seizures and pain faded away again. I winced as I sat up, demanding, "What the hell is wrong with me?" "I...I don't know," Marissa admitted. "Outsiders don't go through this when our power awakens and I've never heard of a human becoming an Outsider. This is something completely new. I have no idea." However Marissa stared at me with a dark expression that suddenly made me think that maybe she did have some idea. When I pressed her, she quietly told me, "I think... Your mortal body isn't able to handle the energies you absorbed from Patrice. I think... I think it's killing you instead of making you an Outsider like I thought." "Oh shit," I gasped, suddenly even more aware of the warm tingling that was still running through my body. "Get it out of me then..." Marissa stared at me, her expression turning very grim. "I know of only one way to do that. I'd have to kill you." "WHAT?" I exclaimed, suddenly wondering if she'd kill me just to get those energies for herself. Or maybe, she just had to wait until they killed me, then she'd be able to claim them anyway. Either way, I could almost see those thoughts going through her mind. "I'm sorry you had to get mixed up in this," Marissa told me sadly. "I truly am." "Just great," I grimaced, pouring myself another glass and gulping it down. Maybe if I got drunk enough I could forget all about this. "And to think," I grumbled, "I was so happy it was my day off..." Marissa continued telling me more about the Outsiders for the next half hour, though there was a definite feeling that we were both just waiting for my death. I felt like I had a time bomb inside of me just ticking away. I was especially reminded of this after I collapsed in pain and seizures again. After awhile Marissa looked down at herself and her blood stained clothes, scowling, "I suppose I should really get cleaned up..." She looked towards her wrecked living room and visibly winced. "I guess I'll go home," I told her with a sigh. When Marissa got up and walked me to the door, I noticed that she wasn't hunched over or limping in the slightest. In fact, she moved as though she didn't have so much as a bruise on her body. Then again, after what she'd told me about the Outsiders, maybe she didn't. I went home and just collapsed into my recliner, ignoring the fact that my own clothes had blood on them. My entire world had been completely turned upside down and twisted inside out during the last couple hours. I'd learned that the world was a far different place than I'd ever imagined, filled with strange magics and immortal fights. It was all completely insane, but still nothing compared to being told I was now immortal one minute and then that I was dying the next. I had no idea what to think, what to believe. After awhile I decided that maybe I should follow Marissa's example and get cleaned up as well. I wasn't nearly as filthy as she was, but I still felt it having human...or not so human blood on me. I quickly climbed into the shower, hoping that I didn't have another one of those attacks while in there. "After all this," I joked bitterly, "it would be pretty ironic to have a seizure and then drown in my tub..." I didn't spend long under the shower though I really wanted too. I was too afraid of having another episode there. But while I was showering, I had a strong feeling that something wasn't quite right. Of course it could have been the fact that my blood still felt warm and humming or that the rest of my body had a strange tickling sensation running through it, but I had a sense of it being something else. Once I was done with my shower, I threw on a pair of pants and a T shirt, which didn't fit quite right for some reason. Of course I had much more important things to worry about than my clothes getting stretched out and didn't pay it much attention. Instead I went to the kitchen to grab something to eat, trying to take my mind off of what was happening to me. "At least I haven't had one of those weird seizures in awhile," I told myself grimly, feeling hopeful that this was a good sign. I didn't take Marissa's warnings that I might be dying too seriously since she had admitted herself that she didn't have a clue what was happening to me. However that didn't mean I wasn't thinking about it or feeling worried. "Maybe it's all just wearing off." I forced a smile, telling myself over and over that I was only a bit stunned and that I was going to be all right in no time at all. I was even starting to believe it, thinking that I'd be back at the garage and working on cars again as though nothing had ever happened. I'd be able to forget all about immortal Outsiders and weird magic sword fights, focusing instead on the world of car parts and grease that I was more familiar with. I grabbed a beer from my fridge and took a nice long drink, a little surprised that I wasn't already feeling a good buzz from the booze I'd had at Marissa's. Then again, I had that weird buzzing in my blood so maybe that counted. With a shrug I turned my attention to making a sandwich, deciding to focus on the normal things. It was a hell of a lot easier than thinking about all the weirdness. But as I went to cut my sandwich in half, I accidentally slipped and the knife slashed into the side of my finger. "Damn," I grimaced, yanking my hand away before I got any blood on my sandwich. The cut stung a bit but started to tickle even more. I just grimaced and washed the blood off under the faucet, then reached for a paper towel. After gingerly drying off my finger, I inspected the cut to see how bad it was, expecting to see more blood coming out. But to my surprise the bleeding had completely stopped. Even more surprising was the fact that the small cut in my skin was sealing itself back up again right before my eyes. "What the hell?" I gasped as I stared at my finger in amazement. Within a minute the cut had vanished entirely, leaving no sign that it had ever been there besides a few drops of blood on the counter. "No way..." Of course I immediately thought of Marissa's first warning that I was now an Outsider myself. She'd told me that Outsiders healed pretty damn fast and I'd seen the evidence with my own eyes. I just hadn't really expected anything like that from myself. I felt a strange mixture of excitement, relief, and fear at that, though I wasn't completely sure what the fear was for. Then I noticed something else strange. I'd been feeling a strange tickling over my entire body, but it was now much stronger on my finger where I'd been cut. I stared at my finger, gasping when I saw a faint ripple run under my skin. After it passed, I realized that my finger didn't look quite right. For some reason my finger now looked thinner, the hair on my knuckle was gone, and my fingernail looked just a little longer. "This is weird," I whispered, not sure what to think. I thought about the way my finger had healed and couldn't resist being curious. Was it a one time thing or did I really heal faster than normal now? Was I an Outcast or was I dying? Maybe it was something else entirely. I didn't know but I wanted to. After a minute, I decided to try a small experiment. I found a small but sharp paring knife and carefully cut myself across the palm of my hand. It wasn't a deep cut but it would prove whether I was really healing fast or not. "Damn," I winced as I began bleeding more than I expected. I quickly stuck my hand under the faucet again, knowing that I couldn't keep an eye on the cut if it was too covered in blood to see. As I expected, it stopped bleeding after only a few seconds. I held my hand up in front of my face and stared at it in amazement as this cut began to seal up as well. Within 30 seconds there was no sign on my hand that it had ever been cut. "It works," I exclaimed, "I really am healing fast..." I soon noticed though that the strong tickling feeling that had come over my hand while it was healing was still there. I stared at my hand, my eyes going wide as she skin began to ripple along the whole thing. The hair vanished from my knuckles as I watched, pulling back inside my skin as through growing in reverse. At the same time my whole hand began to change the way the finger I'd cut had. My hand somehow looked a little smaller and finer with more slender fingers. My nails were also a little longer than normal. When it stopped I held my changed hand up to my normal one and compared them, stunned by the difference between the two. It looked like they belonged to two different people. "What the hell is going on?" I gasped, not sure if I was more concerned by the seizures or what was happening with my hand. Marissa hadn't said anything about this happening, but she'd also admitted she'd never seen anything like me. "Like that helps..." For a minute I thought about rushing back over to Marissa's to see if she might have some ideas, but then decided against it. I'd seen far too much over there to feel comfortable returning, especially with the blood still fresh in the living room. And besides, in spite of being over five hundred years old, which I still found hard to believe, she still didn't have any experience with something like this. I wanted someone who knew what was going on and could help me, but people like that were in short supply at the moment. Just then another of the attacks hit me and dropped me to my knees. I grimaced and bit back the scream that wanted to come, especially as my guts knotted up, feeling as though they were on fire. Then I felt as though someone kicked me in the balls too which broke my control enough to let the scream escape. I was in agony for a full five minutes before it receded, leaving me shaken and with every muscle in my body aching. "That's it," I gasped weakly, "I've got to do something about this..." After taking several more minutes to gathering my strength, I went back to Marissa's house. She might not have any experience with what I was going through, but she knew more than anyone else I had available and she seemed willing to help. I only hoped she didn't change her mind and decide to chop off my head. I rang the doorbell, but there was no answer for nearly a full minute. Then the door finally opened a little and Marissa peaked out, staring at me for a minute with her eyes going wide. "Come in," she urged, not taking her eyes off me as I went in past her. Marissa's living room had been cleaned up a little since the last time I'd seen it, but it was still quite a mess. She had a large garbage bag in the middle of the room for the completely destroyed items, while there were several piles of things I think she intended to keep or recover. Patrice's clothes were gone, probably in the garbage bag, but Marissa's blood stains were still there. I thought she'd probably have to replace the carpet to get rid of those. "Are you all right?" Marissa asked me urgently. "How do you feel?" "I hurt like hell," I grimaced, glaring at her as though it were all her fault. Then again, I guess it was all her fault. Patrice had come here for the sole purpose of killing her after all. "Everything aches and I keep having these nasty cramps all over." Marissa said something in a language I didn't understand, but assumed to be Italian. It had the feeling of some profanities too though I couldn't be certain. Then in English, she exclaimed, "The way you look..." "What's wrong with the way I look?" I demanded irritably, wanting to talk about something a little more important than the fact I hadn't bothered to brush my hair. "You haven't looked in a mirror," she said. It was a statement and not a question. "Why should I?" I asked, having a bad feeling about this. I remembered my hand and held it up to look at it again, just in time to see another faint ripple pass under the skin. When it did, my hand looked slightly different yet again. The skin somehow seemed paler and smoother. "Come," Marissa ordered, pulling me to a large ornate mirror that had somehow escaped the destruction in the living room nearly unscathed. "Look." I looked into the mirror and gasped in surprise. My face was... different. For one thing, I'd skipped shaving today, but all of my stubble was completely gone, leaving my cheeks smooth and clean. My eyes, normally a nondescript brown, had become a silvery gray. And then there was my hair, which was several shades lighter than normal as well as four inches longer. There was something else about my face that didn't seem quite right either, but I couldn't quite figure out what it was, other than I somehow looked...softer. "What the fuck?" I exclaimed, turning to look at Marissa again. "This is certainly...unexpected," she said carefully, frowning thoughtfully as she said it. "You think?" I snapped, gesturing to my face. "What the hell is up with this?" "I don't know," Marissa stared at me intently, "I've never seen anything like it." I took a deep breath, holding up my hand and saying, "It started happening when I cut myself..." "I don't see any cuts," Marissa commented. "Because it healed up right away," I pointed out grimly. "Then my hand started changing right after... I just thought it was only my hands..." Marissa stared at me with a look of interest. "Your injuries healed?" I nodded, then hesitated for a moment before going to her kitchen to demonstrate with one of her knives. I hesitated for only a moment, then cut into the palm of the hand I hadn't injured. Blood came out and puddled for a few seconds, then it sealed up and began healing right before my eyes. Almost as soon as it was done though, my skin shimmered a little and that hand changed just a bit more so that now both of my hands matched. "Very interesting," Marissa told me. "You heal like an Outsider... Maybe my first thought was right after all... You are becoming one of us." "Then how the hell do you explain this?" I gestured to my hands and then my face. "You said you Outsiders didn't have this kind of thing happen to you." "It could be your special ability," Marissa started, then paused with a strange look on her face. "You know what's causing this?" I demanded. Marissa hesitated a moment before admitting, "I have an idea... But I want to be sure before I tell you." She stared at me for a moment, looking me up and down before ordering, "Strip." "What?" I blinked in confusion. "Get undressed," she told me. "I want to see how much the rest of your body is changing." "What?" I asked again, sure that she had to be kidding. However, the look on Marissa's face was anything but humorous. "I'm over five hundred years old," she snapped impatiently. "Trust me, you don't have anything that I haven't seen before." I grimaced and began getting undressed, stopping with my underwear still on. Marissa might be pretty hot, but I wasn't going to do the full monty for her without good reason. "There," I snapped, "is this fine or do you need more?" Marissa nodded, apparently satisfied with my leaving my underwear on. She stared at me, but it wasn't the expression of a woman checking me out. It was more like the expression I'd get from a doctor. It was a cold expression that noted every detail but showed no real emotion. "You have almost no body hair," Marissa finally said. I looked down at myself and grimaced. "Damn..." My body hair was gone, having vanished with little trace. I ran a hand over my now smooth chest, surprised at how soft and puffy my chest now felt. "I assume that's abnormal," Marissa said. "Yeah," I agreed, noticing that the rest of my body was off too. Not only was I now nearly hairless, but my skin was all soft and smooth. "I feel so weird..." I touched my chest which felt especially tender and odd. Just then another ripple ran through my skin, leaving my skin even softer and smoother when it passed. What little hair that remained on my chest vanished as well while my skin seemed to swell out becoming a little more puffy. I gasped at the tickling sensations. "I think I know what's happening to you," she told me with a grim expression. "What?" I demanded, but Marissa just picked up her phone and gestured for me to be quiet. "I must make a call first," she said. "I need to talk to someone a little more knowledgeable than me..." I just stared at Marissa, scowling in impatient annoyance. However I wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of pestering her like some child so went and got dressed again instead. I couldn't help noticing though that my clothes didn't fit right. It was more noticeable than before. "Gregor," Marissa said into the phone, "yes, it's me... No, I have something important and I need your advice." Then she gave me a sidelong look before she suddenly switched into another language and continued talking. Unfortunately I couldn't make out anything of what was being said. I was able to take a hint so I left the room, muttering, "Why couldn't I have just gone to the garage today?" I shook my head. "Man, I'd rather be rebuilding a transmission than dealing with this crap any day..." Marissa only talked on the phone for about fifteen minutes before she hung up. She found me sitting on the couch in what was left of her living room and staring at the spot on the floor where I'd killed Patrice and her body had vanished. The fact that there was no body around made it easier for me to deal with, easier to pretend that it wasn't real. But the truth was that I'd killed a woman. Sure, she was a psychotic immortal who was trying to kill me at the time, but I'd killed her. "Are you ready to tell me what you've figured out yet?" I asked her, trying to keep the biting sarcasm from my voice. It was such a nice way to deal with all this but not exactly the best to get someone to help me. And to think, I could have avoided all this by NOT helping her. Marissa sat down beside me, remaining silent for a full minute before she finally said, "I think I know why you are changing and my friend Gregor agrees." I turned to her, waiting for her to continue. However immortal Outsiders were apparently a lot more patient than I was, because I finally had to encourage her. "Okay..." "I believe I was correct when I told you that you are now an Outsider," Marissa finally said, not looking at me. "But I was also correct when I realized your mortal body couldn't handle the stress of Patrice's power." "I'm not an idiot," I told her with a scowl, "but you've lost me." "As an Outsider," she said slowly, "I have a very powerful life force. I have an energy that exists within me, keeping my body in perfect condition and healing me of all injuries. When I kill another Outsider, I absorb their energy and add it to what I already possess." "You already told me that," I reminded her gently, wishing she'd just get to the point. Marissa stared at me with an intense look that made me gulp. If I'd been standing up I would have taken an instinctive step backwards. "When you killed Patrice," she said simply, "you absorbed her energy. As a normal human, you do not possess the life energy to maintain your body and absorb the energies you acquired from her. Because of this, Patrice's life energy has taken that place within you and made you an Outsider. It is her energy which now maintains your body and heals your injuries." I stared back at Marissa, trying to absorb what she'd said but having a hard time. I tried putting it in terms that I might better understand, thinking of it like taking an oil filter from one car and switching it over to another. However, that didn't really make a whole lot of sense as far as this went either. Then I began to have a sinking feeling as I began to get what she was aiming at. "That energy is trying to keep your body in what it views as the perfect physical condition," Marissa told me with a scowl. "It's trying to heal your injuries and restore your body to how it thinks it should be...." "But it's Patrice's energy," I whispered in realization. Marissa nodded agreement. "Without your own energy to control the process, hers have taken over. I believe they're trying to turn you into Patrice." "No," I jumped to my feet in horror, "no way... That's..." "Impossible?" Marissa supplied with an arched eyebrow. "Just like immortals are impossible?" She gave me a sad smile. "During my life, I have seen a great number of things I once thought impossible not only come to pass...but become commonplace." "But," I looked down at myself, staring at my hands. They were a woman's hands I now realized. "You look more and more like her with every minute," Marissa told me. "You even look shorter... And whenever you heal an injury, it merely speeds up the process." "How do I stop it?" I demanded. "How do I keep from changing?" "I don't think there is a way to stop it," Marissa said slowly. "Your body is being remade and there is nothing I know of that can stop it. You are going to become Patrice's twin." Then her eyes narrowed slightly. "My fear is that her life energies are not only transforming your body, but that her essence will consume your mind as well. If that happens, Kyle will be dead and I will be forced to deal with Patrice." "Fuck," I whispered, feeling even more horrified at my situation. It was bad enough to be suddenly turning into a woman, but possibly being possessed by one on top of it... "How did I get into this shit?" "At the rate you are changing," Marissa told me carefully, "I think that it will be finished by tomorrow, though it would be much faster if you were badly injured." I winced at that, then spat out, "No thanks..." Marissa nodded. "I know this all comes as a great shock to you. Yesterday you didn't even know we Outsiders existed, yet now you are becoming one of us." "Sorry," I scowled, "but the possibility of being immortal isn't my biggest problem right now..." I grabbed my chest, feeling the softness that I now knew was the beginning of breasts. "I've got other things to worry about." "I understand," Marissa told me sympathetically. "It will certainly not be easy to adjust..." "So there's nothing you can do?" I asked, half demanded. "I fear not," Marissa told me with a sigh. "Not about your physical transformation at any rate. I can help you a great deal with learning to be an Outsider though." "Now now," I groaned, shaking my head and feeling hair brushing against my shoulders. I winced at that. "I just want to go home." Marissa nodded again. "You know where to find me when you're ready." I just grunted at that and left, going home as fast as I could. I didn't see any other neighbors out and watching me, but I could almost imagine them staring and wondering what was going on. I was a great relief when I got back into my own house and locked the door behind me. "Just fucking great," I grimaced as I threw myself into my recliner, determined to just ignore my problems until they went away. Of course I knew that was complete and utter foolishness, but the idea at least made me feel better. It made me at least feel as though I had some kind of control over what was happening to me. I turned on the TV but completely ignored it, instead staring at my feminine hands. I nervously touched my chest through my shirt and winced as I could now feel two small mounds starting to form. I shuddered to think about what might be happening between my legs and resisted the urge to reach my hand down and find out. "I can't be turning into her," I told myself, as though this made it so. "Maybe I can control that energy I got from her..." I closed my eyes and concentrated on the energy I absorbed from Patrice, ordering it, "Don't change me any more... Turn me back into a guy... I'm supposed to be a guy..." For the next hour I just sat in my chair with my eyes closed, doing my little 'meditation' thing and hoping that my force of will and determination would turn back what was happening to me. But when I opened my eyes again and found that I was still turning girlie, I ended it with a stream of profanity that would have caused my mother to have a heart attack. After awhile I finally got up and got undressed, tossing all my clothes aside so I could get a good look at myself and mentally catalog all the changes that were occurring in my body. Absolutely everything was a bit off, though it was hard to point out the specific details. It was the color and texture of my skin, the shape of waist and legs, the way my chest was starting to push out a little. Everything added up to the conclusion that my body was indeed becoming more feminine. I spent the rest of the day naked in front of a mirror, staring at my body as it slowly changed and desperately willing it not to happen. I tried hard to force the changes not to occur, as though my willpower were enough. Unfortunately, it wasn't and I continued to slowly become more and more like Patrice De Nasia, the deceased Outsider. Eventually I turned away from the mirror and climbed into bed, too tired to keep fighting it. It wasn't physical exhaustion that drove me, but the dread realization that nothing I did could stop this. No matter what I did or what I wanted, I was going to become a woman. If that was going to happen, I'd rather not have to watch. -------------------- Morning came far too soon, though that was largely my own fault. I'd gone to bed earlier than normal for a day off so was unable to sleep in to the late hour I preferred. As a result, I woke up groggy and half thinking that I had to get to the garage. "Damn," I grumbled, rolling over to go back to sleep. However the pressure on my chest suddenly shocked me to full wakefulness. "Oh shit..." I sat up in bed and stared at my chest, which now pushed out into two shapely breasts. They'd been pretty small when I went to bed and had obviously grown a great deal during the night. I estimated them to be about C cups, though I was certainly no expert when it came to sizes. Long blonde hair came over my shoulders and I had to push it back as I moved to look over the rest of my body. My body had definitely continued changing during the night. In fact I looked completely female, except for the small remains between my legs. My testicles were gone, but a small nub of my old cock remained. I winced at the sight, suddenly thinking that I was the size of a toddler. "Fuck," I grimaced as I climbed out of bed and went to the bath room. I stood there, staring down at my toilet for several seconds, trying to decide if I had enough left to pee standing, or if I would have to start doing it sitting down. After a minute I reluctantly decided that it might be safer and more hygienic to sit down. "Damn this is embarrassing." Once I was done relieving myself, I finally took a deep breath and faced the mirror. Even though I knew what to expect, I still gasped when I saw HER in the mirror instead of me. It was Patrice De Nasia, the same psycho woman from yesterday who stared back. There was nothing of my face left, only hers. I looked exactly like her, or at least how she'd look if she just woke up and was pretty shaken up. I put a hand to my face and ran my fingers over the smooth skin, hardly able to believe this was really me. I stared into my now silvery-gray eyes, blinking at them and then looking over nearly every detail. It was so eerie to see a strangers face in the mirror. I'd only seen this face one time before and that was before I'd killed the woman who wore it. "My God," I whispered, suddenly thinking that this was some kind of instant karma. This was my punishment for killing Patrice... Then I shook my head and grimly reminded myself, "I didn't have a choice... The crazy bitch was gonna kill me..." It helped a little but I still felt guilty. I now looked to be in my mid to late twenties and had a face that was beautiful, but a little too hard to be considered overly sexy. My hair was now long and blond, going all the way down to my shoulder blades. It felt quite soft and smooth as well, though I was hardly in a position to appreciate that either. My body was very nice and I normally would have paid a lot of attention to a woman with one like this. It was long legged, shapely, and fairly athletic. I looked like a woman who tried to keep in shape and lived an active life style. Then again, I guessed that chasing after people with swords and trying to cut their heads off did count as an active lifestyle. "No fucking way," I grimaced, noticing that even the tattoo on my shoulder was now gone. And I'd been rather proud of that spider holding a wrench too. I held up my hands and stared at them again, finding it hard to grasp that even my familiar hands had changed. They were definitely a woman's hands now. My fingernails were longer than normal, though not long enough to really get in the way. Still, they were quite a strange sight for me. "Marissa was right," I grimaced, "it really is turning...turned me into Patrice." I winced at that, then gulped as I realized what else this means. "I'm... I'm immortal now..." I stared at my reflection with a sense of awe now as well. The idea of being immortal, of living forever... It was everyone's dream. It was something that nearly everyone wished for at least once in awhile. "Immortality," I whispered, then paused as I thought about everything that would come with it. "Outsiders chasing after me to kill me... All my friends will grow old and die... And I'll be stuck like this until I get killed..." I shook my head and let out a long sigh, not sure whether to be horrified over what had happened to me or excited. It was all so much and it was so confusing. The only thing I knew for a fact though was that this meant EVERYTHING in my life was going to change. I didn't think that could be considered a good thing. This was all so overwhelming that I wanted just scream and freak out. However, my practical side took hold and I decided to find out a little more about how I'd changed. I got a measuring tape and checked my height, finding that I was 5 foot 10. If I remember right, that was about how tall Patrice had been so I wouldn't be shrinking any more. I'd only lost four inches of height. "Thank God," I muttered, relieved that Patrice hadn't been short or even average sized for a woman. If I'd lost more than four inches, I was sure I would have felt like a midget. As it was, I was already noticing the difference. Because of my new height, everything in my house seemed a bit off. "It could have been worse..." At least that's what I tried telling myself. Since I didn't know what else to do, I decided to go through my normal morning routine as much as possible. If nothing else, it would help me pretend that everything was normal. However, taking a shower with this body was anything but normal. I washed up as fast as I could, looking over the changes in my body but forcing myself not to linger on them for very long. When I was done, I spent the next hour trying to get my hair dry again. I got dressed, once again thankful that I hadn't lost too much height. Because of that, I could still use my own clothes for the moment. They might be too big and hang loose on me, but they still fit enough for me to go out in public with, at least when I chosed the right ones. I winced as I got dressed, imagining what it would be like having to wear women's clothes. The idea wasn't one I liked so I tried not to think about it too much. "Damn this is weird," I cupped my chest through my shirt, noticing the two breasts pushing out. I shook my head, "I'll never get used to this..." However a quiet voice in the back of my head reminded me that I might have