Time And Time Again - Part 1 free porn video

Time and Time Again By~ G.K.S January 10th, 2063 "Get out of my way, you little freak," shouted a very angry Lorian. The furry little hybrid girl scampered out of the way, fearful of the angry bigot named Lorian Danzerati. She only looked to be about ten or eleven, but as far as Lorian was concerned, she was just an animal. A rodent from the looks of the filthy creature. "Fucking animals," he mumbled under his breath, as he strode into the waiting car piloted by his wife. The car was a brand new Lexus, and had hover capability. "Did you see the little rat that steered herself into my way? I set that animal straight," he ranted with enthuse. "Actually dear, the nasty little thing looked more like a mouse," Alice said with a smirk. "A mouse. Maybe they should keep the thing in it's cage," he grinned, maliciously. Lorian was from a long line of Pures. More than that, Lorian was a very famous public speaker and anti-morfs activist, who had become very wealthy from his line of work. More than anything, he hated MORFS survivors; or freaks, as he liked to think of them. Lorian truly believed the religious rhetoric that he had been taught ever since the day he was born. He also however, simply didn't like those who were different. And it was fueled by jealousy deep down. Jealousy, over the fact that so many of those who had survived MORFS, had amazing abilities or...were beautiful. Lorian's wife pulled the car away from the curb and smiled at her husband, as the car streaked down the street towards their home. She knew her husband would be tired, after just getting done at the office. Lorian leaned back in his seat, and his mind was lost in thought as he began to think about a memory from quite a long time ago. In his mind, he was back in high school...and he was kissing his girlfriend goodbye on a Friday. He wouldn't see her again until Monday, because he had an anti-morfs rally to go to over the weekend. However, his girlfriend wasn't in school the Monday after. She was gone for several more days, and when she finally showed...she was one of the changed ones. Lorian slowly drifted to sleep, as his wife drove him home. And he began to dream...of that fateful day. ~~~ Thursday, April 16th, 2032 I got an email from Samantha...and I knew she was suppose to be here today. She didn't mention why she had been gone for the past three days. I checked my watch, and grumbled as I waited outside the front doors to Sun Valley High. She was five minutes late now. I looked around for her some more, and grumbled because there was only a couple minutes until the bell. There were a lot of people milling about in the front school yard. However, none of them were making for the doors. Except for one girl who had just got off a city bus. She was a freak...I hate these freaks. Especially freaks that look different. They aren't even human. The girl saw me and smiled briefly, but immediately looked down at the ground, as she walked towards the doors...and me. She's taller than Samantha. She looked like she was about 5'10 and she was very well built, with curves that just wouldn't stop. She had iridescent silver skin that glistened in the morning sunlight, and silver hair that sparkled when the wind tussled it. Her hair was down just past her shoulders. Her eyes though...the eyes were beautiful. They were a bright goldish yellow...like a morning sunrise. Too bad she was a freak. Of course I love Samantha, so I shouldn't be thinking in terms like that. No other girl would do. I'd been friends with Samantha since I was a toddler. Her family was part of the same country club as mine, so I met her at an early age. We quickly became friends. Best friends by the time we both could understand such a concept...and as we entered our teen years, our friendship blossomed into a combination of lust and love. Now at sixteen, we sometimes talked about choosing a college to attend together, and someday getting married. Her smile lit up my world, and I smiled just thinking of it. We had made love together many times, laughing all the while, because it felt so naughty. Teenage sex was taboo, and if our parents knew...they'd have a melt down. "Hey-," a girls voice said. I snapped out of my deep thoughts and looked up. The freak I had been watching come up the front walk was now standing in front of me, looking at me like she expected a response. "What the fuck do you want?" I asked. Instantly getting angry. How dare this...this...thing talk to me? "I-," she started to say. "What, you freak? I don't have time to talk to you. Nor would I, even if I did. Get lost, you filthy bitch." Her eyes widened, and a whole range of emotions ran across her face. Tears streamed from her eyes, and she sobbed...covering her mouth with the palm of her hand. Her whole body heaved as she cried...and momentarily I felt sorry for her; I made a pretty girl cry. "Lorian, Don't you love me anymore?" she cried, running her hand through her hair in exasperation. "What the fuck are you talking about?" I said angrily. "It's me! It's me, Samantha!" she said between sobs. I imagine my jaw must have dropped to the concrete and my eyes must have popped right out of my head. "Yo-you mean...it's you? You-you...had m- morfs?" I said, exasperated. "This is...you're...no! You can't be Samantha," I said. A million thoughts raced through my head. "Yes it's me!" she said. "I came down with MORFS on Sunday." "Then...it is...you," I replied. This THING was the love of my life? My thoughts raced, and first I thought about the awful things I said to her. Then I thought about what she was, and what that meant. I thought about our life together...my love was still there. Looking into her eyes...I knew I lusted after her just as much now as before. I still loved her...this was my one and only sweetheart. This...this was my Samantha. "You still love me?" she asked shakily. She started to smile a little. "I...well," I started to say. I was thinking about how MORFS changes things, how it changed her. How it...changed our relationship. Looking her in the eye I felt my smile fade, yet hers stayed, as if she remained hopeful. "You're one of them now," I spat. "How could I love you? Haven't you looked in the mirror?" Her smile fell, and she remained motionless for a few seconds. Neither moving, nor speaking. Then all of the sudden, she burst into sobs and tears again. She turned and ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Her skirt blowing behind her as she fled. She had her face in her hands, as she bolted across the school yard away from me. I realized what a mistake I had made, wondering how I could have said such things. I looked up preparing myself to chase after her, to tell her I loved her. She meant everything to me. I loved her, I still loved her and I would always love her. Someday we'd get married, and we'd have children together, and over time we'd grow old together. I'd do anything to ease her pain and stop her tears from rolling down those beautiful silver cheeks right that moment. I looked up and took one step forward, then stopped, whilst looking in her direction. "WAIT! SAMANTHA!" I screamed; my face contorted in horror. "NO! DON'T TALK TO ME!" she screamed as she ran, looking back at me from across the grassy school yard...the tears still running from her eyes. "NO! NO!" I screamed as loud as I could, pointing in her direction. As she entered the street on the other side of the schoolyard, she never saw the truck coming. After the ambulance carted her away, I never saw her again. When her parents called my house later, to ask me to attend the funeral, my parents answered and then summarily hung up, and never even told me. I didn't find out until one of my friends called me and asked why I didn't show at Samantha's funeral. My parents were bigots. And so was I. As my days continued, I never stopped loving her. And I became bitter...and my hate grew out of lonesomeness and guilt. On the day of my high school graduation, I broke down. I never went to the graduation ceremony, even though I was wearing the cap and gown already. My parents were there waiting for me, along with my brother and my sister. But...I couldn't think straight, and I didn't care one way or the other. I took the bus to Pine Ridge Cemetery. And under the noon time sun, I ran through the grassy cemetery, through row after row of graves. Until eventually, I stopped in front of a huge marble statue of a kneeling Angel with outstretched arms, weeping over what appeared to be an empty cradle. Staring at the statue of that angel, all I could think of was my beautiful silver angel...lying crumpled in a heap in the middle of the road. The tears still wet in her eyes, and those beautiful silver cheeks still streaked with tears. And the blood...everywhere. That image haunted me, and was seared into my memory. I saw it every night when I slept, and thought of it every waking hour, that my treacherous life dragged on. Somehow, I knew, it would be this way for the rest of my life. I looked at the face of the angel for a while...it's agonizing expression mimicking my own; before I finally glanced down at the marker at the base of the statue. 'Here lies Samantha Lee Summersette. Born September 23rd, 2016 --- Died April 16th, 2032.' ~~~ A car door slammed; Lorian woke up, to find tears streaming down his cheeks. Lorian opened his door, angrily wiping the tears away as he followed his wife into the house. Lorian sat at his computer, trying to compose himself long enough to finish writing his speech for the next morning. He had a large rally he had to be at. However, he couldn't think...not after the dream he had. He pulled a key off a golden chain around his neck; using it to unlock a drawer in his desk. Leaning back in his chair, he fished out an old picture, incased in glass. It was one of only a few possessions that he kept in the locked drawer. A picture of Samantha and him together at a beach in Florida. He had gone with her, when her family went on vacation that summer. They were fifteen at the time...a full year before her tragic death. In the picture, he had his youthful muscled arms wrapped around her slender waist. Samantha was smiling, her modest figure accented by a polka dot bikini, her hair was blonde and her eyes were blue. She was beautiful. Gently placing the picture back, and re-locking the drawer, Lorian turned his attention back to his computer screen. The smile left his face, as he began to write his big speech. A speech condemning MORFS survivors...a speech full of hate and visceral words. But it wasn't really Lorian writing it...it was an imposter. As the real Lorian had died long ago...the very second of the very day that truck struck Samantha Summersette. All that was left, was a bitter and hateful man, who vaguely resembled the Lorian from so long ago. After a couple hours, Alice came up and stuck her head around the door, "Lorian, dinner is ready." "Be down in a minute, dear." He replied. Aside from Samantha being the love of his life, he did love his wife. He wouldn't marry someone and have four children with them just for appearances. Lorian had three daughters who were triplets, and one son. He loved all of his children a great deal; and brought them up to be god fearing, freak hating individuals just like himself. Lorian finished jotting down the last few words of his speech, saved the file and then proceeded downstairs. Walking into the dining room he found his three daughters; Callista, Calypso and Claudia setting the table. His son was bringing the serving platters out from the kitchen with his mother, and setting them on the table. It wasn't long before they were all seated, and Lorian prepared for the meal time prayer. "Dear almighty God. Thanks for the portions laid before us that make up this generous meal. Please continue to bless this family, and strike down those who offend." Lorian of course was referring to the MORFS, whom he believed had been judged by god and stricken for their sins. They ate, and the three blonde haired blue eyed triplets talked about school and some projects they had been assigned. Alice looked at her husband, "So honey, did you finish your big speech for tomorrow?" "Yes dear," he replied. "The Pures are gaining ground in the political arena. I heard that in the next election three years from now, we have a good chance of taking both the House and the Senate," Callista said. "Very true, Callista," Lorian replied. Callista was the head of the cheerleaders at school, and made life hell for MORFS whenever possible. Her two sisters did the same thing. Claudia was head of the drama club while Calypso was the head of the Pom-Pom squad, which was actually a dance squad that employed pom-poms in their routine. "So your success tomorrow at the rally will gain ground for the Pures?" Claudia asked, eyeing her father carefully. "Yes, the next two rallies will be promoting new laws that will eventually help us put the freaks in their cages for once and for all. Tomorrow is very important, because tomorrow's rally is the first of the two upcoming rallies. Naturally I'll be a key speaker at both," Lorian replied dryly, with a malicious glint in his eyes. "Those little freaks should all kill themselves. They'd be doing the world a favor," Alice replied ferociously. "Wouldn't that be ideal," Calypso said, her sisters nodding in agreement. "If they were the least responsible, they'd stone themselves," Lorian said, picking at his food with his fork. "We'll be rid of them soon enough," Alice said, smiling at her husband. After they finished eating, Lorian talked for a bit with his son Clark. While the triplets were all sixteen, Clark was thirteen. "Now son, you haven't been very active in the community. But I'd really like you to follow in my footsteps some day," Lorian told his son. "I know dad, you want me to start attending rallies right?" he said looking down at his shoes. "That's right, Clark," Lorian replied warmly. Clark looked up and saw the pride in his fathers eyes, and quickly nodded in agreement. The kids all retired to their rooms while Lorian stayed up with his wife and watched some television. After what seemed to be an hour or so, they both walked upstairs and retired to the master bedroom. Lorian was waiting in bed reading a magazine with the lamp turned on, and wondered why his wife was taking so long. When the door finally open, his rather pretty middle aged wife was standing in the door way in some silk lingerie. Her long brown hair had been combed out and when she walked over and laid next to Lorian, looking at him proactively, he could smell her perfume she applied. The perfume smelt like orchids and fruit...which was altogether intoxicating. Lorian closed his eyes, "What's the special occasion love?" "I thought it'd be nice to give you a special night, since tomorrow is your big day." She said, with a huge grin. Lorian smiled and put his magazine on the nightstand next to the bed, "That doesn't sound like such a bad idea." They left the lights on as they made love together, and commented that they both felt young again. With that, they turned out the lights and fell asleep in each others arms. ~~~ Lorian woke up to morning sunlight streaming through the windows. He threw on his latest Ralph Lauren suit, which was a custom grey pinstripe, with black tie. The suit had just been purchased last week, and had cost him two thousand dollars. Lorian ran a company that was associated with his endeavors, so he took a company limousine to the rally. The rally was in one of the city parks, and was set to take place at noon. Lorian got there an hour early, to set up. Lorian was pleased to see that the park was already packed full of fellow Pures. Lorian was immediately spotted by the organizers, who quickly contacted him and helped him get set up. There were many people floating about, and the organizers took Lorian on the rounds to meet and shake hands with some of the influential Pures. At one point Lorian swore somebody from the crowd called his name, which wouldn't have been unusual...and usually he would have ignored it. But this time...he felt compelled to search them out. What if it was somebody he knew? Making his way into the crowd, he shook hands with some of the attendees. He heard his name again and searched in vain for the caller, however as he moved forward a bit someone ran into him and grabbed his arm. However, looking around he could find nobody. The whole experience creeped him out somewhat, and he quickly made his way back to the gazebo at which he'd be making his speech from. As the clock tower in the distance chimed that it was finally noon, Lorian took his place at the podium, and with much grandeur launched into a tirade about the evils of those stricken down by the strange plague called MORFS. Halfway through his speech, Lorian was enthusiastic and getting a lot of applause for his hateful statements. He started getting a headache, which was unusual, but he ignored it. His finishing statement was coming up, and with a booming voice he called, "It's only a matter of time before the righteous such as us, finally lock those animals and freaks away in their cages! With the grace of God, we will prevail!" he said. *Will you still feel that way when the fur begins to grow?* Lorian heard it...but felt he must have been hearing things. Or one of those freaks were playing mind games with him. The crowd gave him a standing ovation, and roared in applause as he left the podium. He felt wary as the headache got worse, and decided to not stay for the rest of the rally. The words he had heard in his head, still haunted him. He was worried, for surely he knew very well about the AMORFS epidemic. He climbed into the company car and had it take him back to his office. Once inside the building he climbed the plexi-glass staircase to his office and sat slowly in his office chair. The headache kept him from getting much work done, or reading the news concerning the rally. He was finally settling down and no longer worried about the voice he heard in his head. "My righteousness will prevail, and I will triumph over any evil I may encounter," he said to himself. Pulling the blinds up on his office window he stared out for a long time, the headache worse than it had been earlier. When his wife pulled up in front of the office, he left and was on his way home. That night, Lorian was met with a great number of compliments from his daughters and his wife. His son nodded in agreement and gave him encouraging remarks but was largely quiet. His daughters said they were lucky to have him as a father, which made him swell with pride. That night as he was laying in bed with his wife, he was getting dizzy from the headache. Nevertheless, it didn't stop him from thinking of so many years earlier. He questioned; not for the first time, why things had come about as they had. That spring April day so long ago, he had been willing to throw his Pure beliefs out the window for his one true love. Lorian started to wonder how he went from that back to the way he had been prior to Samantha's case of MORFS. Lorian had a good life, a good job...amazing daughters and a quiet but good son. His lovely wife was caring, and was still truly in love with him, as he was with her. Nevertheless, the thought still wandered through his mind as it had so many times before. Lorian concluded quit rationally, that MORFS had taken her away from him...and he thought that perhaps that was one of the reasons he went back to his old ways following her death. He blamed MORFS for taking his beloved away from him, and it made him hate anyone who had the disease. As he fell asleep the headache had turned into mostly dizziness. ~~~ Lorian's eyes shot open and he looked at the alarm...it was about the time he usually woke up, but something was different. As he stumbled into the bathroom, he fell to his knees and retched into the toilet. Emptying his mostly empty stomach, he truly started to feel like shit. "What's wrong with you?" she asked, her face white as a ghost. "Fuck if I know," Lorian replied angrily. "Come with me. But stay quiet, the children mustn't find out," Alice told her husband. "It's nothing, it's-," Lorian started. "Shut up!" Alice whispered, menacingly. Lorian rode in the car with his wife in absolute silence. He felt nauseous but there was nothing left to puke up for the time being. When they finally found their way to a discrete MORFS clinic, he was taken back into an examination room right away, since there was no one else there in such an early morning hour. The doctor took some of his blood and put it in a processing centrifuge. ~~~ Watching the centrifuge spin, I felt my headache back...along with the dizziness too. My joints ached and burned. My skin felt itchy...my muscles were all cramping up. I thought I already knew the answer. When the doctor came back, he pronounced the verdict. "It's a very unique strand of AMORFS," he explained. "I can't tell you anything aside from that." I was too shocked for words. "But...but...how could this happen to me?" I asked. "God's on my side," I mumbled. "You know what this means," Alice said cruelly. "W-what-," I asked. A little angry. She reeled back a little at my show of defiance. I stood up and looked down at her, letting her know I wasn't a weakling. "Now you listen here woman-," I started, but Alice interrupted me, "Or what? I want a divorce. You can use the guest bedroom back at the house until you finish MORFS. But then your on your own. I won't have whatever you become in my home. And neither will the children." I was too stunned for words. I recouped momentarily. "You bitch," I said. Alice narrowed her eyes and slapped me hard across the face. I stumbled back a bit, and became disoriented. I was too sick to fight back in any sense, so I followed her out to the car. I dozed through out the drive back. I was still in shock, too much was happening too quickly. Tears threatened, but I was too unfeeling at the moment to release them. When I finally managed to make my way into the house, Energy Packs and Sedatives in a bag, I stumbled into the guest bedroom and locked the door behind me. The bathroom had an en-suite bathroom. I pulled off my shirt and took off my shoes. Falling onto the bed I rolled onto my bed and stared at the white ceiling. I cried for the first time...whining softly and thinking yet again of Samantha. I'd chastised her for turning into a freak, which led to her death. Now, here I was beginning to change into a freak myself. I deserved to die, more for my guilt of Samantha's demise, which had weighed heavily on my conscious all these years. The hate that had festered because of it was finally dissipating. I ate my energy pack, and took the sleeping pill. I cried quietly, thinking once again of my long lost love from so long ago. As sleep took me I missed her something terrible, and my aching body couldn't compare to my aching heart. Waking up the next morning was a heavy dose of hell mixed with aches and pains of more earthly vexations. I slowly opened my eyes...and felt totally gross. The sweat had congealed on my body, and I could smell the sweat. I changed the sheets, and then took a shower. I hadn't changed much...although I thought I looked a little shorter and thinner. Although, that could just be my imagination playing tricks. But then again if it was AMORFS, then I was sure the results would be terrifying in their thorough eradication of my current identity. I climbed back in bed, dead tired and yearning for sleep. After eating the disgusting energy pack, and I took the pill and rolled onto my side beneath the blankets. The day after last, was the worst. Looking in the mirror I realized I was smaller yet again...and worst of all, I was sprouting fur all over my body. I recalled the words I heard I my head at the rally, and realized my beliefs hadn't changed. No, I didn't feel different. I felt terribly ashamed because of the fact. Looking in the mirror, I was getting flabby in certain areas. Not to mention the fur...white and black fur. Crashing back into bed, I started feeling nervous and anxious. Eating the energy pack and taking a sleeping pill, I wondered what I would do when my wife through me out onto the street. The third day was much the same as the previous, although the changes were not only more noticeable, but were seemingly accelerating. I realized I was changing sex at this point and as I drifted to sleep I had a vague idea I knew what I was going to end up as. The fourth day was just as unpleasant as the day before. The fifth day was much more agreeable. I had my eyes closed...I was standing in the bathroom in front of the mirror. Opening them, I stared in shock. Absolute shock...I had never heard of anything like this ever happening as a result of AMORFS. I-I...was a girl. By that, I don't mean I had turned into a woman. I mean GIRL. I...I was a teenager. Just BARELY a teenager by the looks of myself. "Oh my god...oh my god...oh FUCK!" I yelled, my girlish voice squealing. "I'm FUCKED! So thoroughly fucked! I really got screwed over. FUCK." I took a closer look at my fury little face, and then took all my extremely baggy clothes off. "I...I can't be older than thirteen! And...I'm totally a girl. I didn't even get to be a halfie," I mumbled. Looking at myself I felt my cheeks heat up, and begin to blush furiously. I was sitting there staring at myself, and all I saw in the mirror was a butt naked thirteen year old girl. I was...very furry. Very, very furry. My face was covered in black fur...short fluffy fur that was super soft and felt like down almost. My hair was down to my upper back, and I felt it brushing against my shoulder blades. My hair had turned white, and was soft, but more like human hair in appearance and texture. My body from the neck down was covered in mostly white fur, with some black on the right side of my lower abdomen. I had a tail, but it was really short...almost like a cotton ball of sorts, except it was more of a fluffy stub. My human ears were gone, and instead a pair of rounded black-furry little ears stuck up, out of my hair, from their position on top my head. My tiny little hands and feet were vaguely human like, with no fur on them...except I realized they were more like rodent feet. My tiny little hands had delicate yet sturdy little finger nails that came to sharp points. My feet were similar. My eyes had changed as well, they were still human except big and innocent looking...the irises were larger than a normal human eye though. And the iris had turned a shade of black, which caused them to blend with the pupils. All for all, I was cute...very cute. I felt burning shame looking at myself. I had breasts...covered in very fine down like fur...it was more sparse there than it was on the rest of my body. Therefore, I could clearly see my breasts. They were prominent and pert; while still being small though, I was guessing around an A cup if I guessed correctly. Looking myself over, it hit me. "God damn it! I'm a fucking Absolute Hamster Hybrid. DAMNIT," I screamed, while pulling at my hair with my tiny little hands out of frustration. Then I shut up, because I realized I needed to get the hell out of here before I woke the natives up, or drew their attention. I looked at the clothes lying on the floor, and realized that I was about five foot even, in height. I couldn't weigh more than a hundred pounds and I was quite petite and lithe in build. I put my extremely baggy clothes back on and formulated a plan. I didn't bother grabbing my shoes because I had smaller feet now than even my daughters or my wife. I opened the door, and sneakily glanced around the hallway listening quietly. I snuck down the hall, and then opened a door and went into a simple room with items strewn across the floor. This was Clark's room, and even though he was a boy, he was closer to my biological age, and was a good bit smaller than my teenaged daughters. I figured he was small for his age, and therefore his clothes would be baggy, but at least I wouldn't have to hold the pants up with my little hamster hands. I grabbed a shirt and a pair of pants from the closet. I also grabbed a belt because I figured I'd probably need it, being as petite as I was. I snuck into the bathroom attached to his room, and quickly changed into the clothes. I left my clothes laying there since I couldn't use them anymore. As I came out I was suddenly confronted by Clark who stood before me. He was still bigger than I was by a bit, and definitely probably stronger. "Oh my god!" he said softly. His eyes were as wide as they would go. He started pointing at me, "Furry! Furry!" he said accusingly, but too soft for anyone else outside the room to hear. Then he calmed down a bit, and shakily asked, "D-dad...is t-that you?" I looked at him pleadingly, "Yes! Yes, furry! I grew fur! Please be quiet. They'll hurt me if they catch me." "Grew fur? More than that...fuck, look at you! You're...you're a girl! You're...you're a g-girl m-my age!" he said turning white as a ghost. Then he snickered, "And you're a furry little hamster girl!" "It's not funny!" I said quietly, getting mad. "Dad...I can't believe it's you! I just figured you'd turn furry and that'd be it. But you're a g-girl. And...you're my age! Look how tiny you are!" Clark said. "So I noticed, you little dumbass," I cried softly. He laughed softly at that, "Not as little as you. Worst of all, you're really cute! Wait to the boys my age get a look at you!" "You find freaks attractive?" I asked, in threatening tones. "Your girly little voice ruins the effect you know. But yes I do; I've been dating a absolute cat hybrid girl in secret for four months now." He said staring down at the ground. "You always were a disgrace," I said only half-heartedly. "What? Well look at you! You're a fur ball too now. Who are you to call me a disgrace? At least I'm still human!" he said defensively. I just looked at him and then burst into tears, trying to cover my mouth with my little hamster paws, in an attempt to stifle the sounds. He looked stunned, then taken aback. However, slowly and with jerky movements, as if he didn't know what to do, he enfolded me in a hug. While rubbing the back of my head with his hand, gently. "Don't worry daddy. I still love you. But, I can guarantee mom and my sisters won't. They'll hate you. You have to get out of here quick!" he whispered. "I know!" I replied, my girly voice sounding scared. "They are downstairs eating. They are going to come up here looking for you when they are done! Good thing you woke up when you did and managed to find some more suitable clothes. I'll try to distract them so you can run past and out the front door," he explained. I followed him down the stairs and quiet as I could be. My little bare feet seemed to be padded, which seemed to make me able to move quietly and with surprisingly good traction. I peeked around the corner at the bottom of the staircase, as Clark walked around. He knocked some dishes over on accident, which created a huge mess. Everybody at the table got up and started trying to help him clean it up. I sneakily ran for the door but stopped dead in my tracks when a girl a lot taller than me stepped in front of me. "OH MY GOD!" she shouted. My daughter was officially 5'9, which made her nine inches taller than me. Being on the dance squad, she was athletically toned as well. I didn't try to force my way past. I turned towards the others. My son was staring at me, once again white as a ghost. My wife was too stunned to talk. My daughters all looked stunned, and then hateful. "Look at you! What...you're a fucking animal. Look at you! You little freak," Callista shouted stomping towards me. Calypso followed her saying, "The great Lorian Danzerati reduced to a...what, thirteen year old GIRL?" She snickered and laughed cruelly and she looked me over, "You're dressed in boys clothes, does that mean you're gonna be a little dyke?" "Leave your father alone," Alice, my wife said, stalking towards me. "He's no father of mine," the girls said in unison. "Quite right girls, but I'll deal with him...or her," she said. "Alice, it's me!" I squealed, my girlish voice cracking, and turning into a squeak of sheer panic. "Don't Alice me," she said grinning. "I'm your husband, don't you dare lay a finger on me!" I shouted, getting mad. I didn't like the dirty looks she was giving me. "OR what!?" she shouted. I was suddenly terrified. I was scared of being pounced on by a woman who was biologically old enough to be my mother. I quivered in fear as she loomed over me, along with my daughters. "Don't you love me anymore?" I squealed. I was suddenly reminded of Samantha, and how she had asked me that before she died. "You little rat," she said grabbing me by my throat. "You're one of them now. Cursed by God himself!" "Alice, Ali-," I squeaked. She interrupted me angrily, "SHUT UP!" "Just shut the hell up!" She screamed in my ear. She drug me across the floor and opening the front door, threw me out onto the porch, then slammed the door and locked it behind me. I had landed on my knees, and skinned both my elbows and both my knees up a good bit. The scrapes were dirty from the concrete, and were bleeding a bit. I felt so small and helpless just then, and nursing my scrapes I looked around, whining softly to myself. The blood was getting in my fur, and the fur was getting all matted up. I started crying, and got up and ran down the sidewalk stopping by the mailbox. I looked back at the house one last time, with tears streaming from my eyes, which soaked into the fur around them. I'd just been abandoned by the woman who bared me four children. Not to mention abandoned by those aforementioned children! How could the girls do that to me? I raised them for sixteen years. I loved them for sixteen years. They were...are my flesh and blood. I suddenly sobbed at the irony of the recent events. The woman whom I married, and mutually loved for so long had grabbed me by the throat and...man handled me, kicking me out of my home. Not to mention, separating me from my children. Probably forever, now that I think about it. I sadly thought about my wedding day, and then the birth of the three girls. I remember holding them as babies and rocking them to sleep on stormy nights, doing my best to sing them lullabies. I did the same type of things when Clark was born. I changed diapers, and kissed them goodnight when they were little. In addition, worst of all, I'm a thirteen year old girl. Oh god, I didn't know how to deal with...with...periods and shit. What the fuck was I going to do when I started bleeding sometime within the next month or so? I'd have to teach myself everything! Moreover, who knows what comes later? I don't want to end up pregnant...or breast feed babies. I don't want that! I don't want to live this life! "FUCK!" I screamed as I ran down the street. The pavement didn't hurt my bare feet...I guess it was the added protection of the previously noticed padding. I started hyperventilating from my increased state of panic and got light headed. I eventually wandered into someone's front yard and passed out. ~~~~ I felt myself regaining consciousness. Opening my eyes, I did my best to look about. There was a police officer standing over me, looking down. A man was standing on the porch of the house I had collapsed in front of. "Just get that animal off my lawn. You got that, officer?" he said hatefully, then slammed his front door. The officer winced when the man said animal, then looked sadly down at me. "Poor girl," he mumbled under his breath. I think my hearing must have been more acute, because it sounded too quiet for someone without enhanced abilities to hear. He then composed himself, "Excuse me miss, where's your home? You should really be getting home." I cried a little, which bothered me because I seemed to be doing that a lot lately, "I don't have a home to go back to!" "What?" he questioned. "Hold on little miss, I'll take you down to the station and we'll do our best to get you sorted out." I followed him to his police cruiser and he was very nice to me. He let me ride up front in the passenger seat rather than making me ride in the back. As he started the car, he looked over at me, "Sorry about that guy. He's obviously a Pure. My daughter is a partial deer hybrid. I hate people who call you guys animals. Happens to my darling daughter all the time." "I used to be a Pure," I said quietly. His eyes went wide a bit, "Oh...jeesh, I don't know whether to say you got what you deserved, or to apologize for the misfortune." "I lost everything. I guess I've gotten what I deserved," I said in a whiney voice. I had to admit, my new voice was cute, however I was also disturbed by the fact I was trapped in a thirteen year olds body. Made me feel like some sort of pervert...not that I really thought I was attractive or cute in any way. But the voice...the voice wasn't bad at all. I guess I was worried I'd lose my voice altogether, like most AMORFS survivors. "You lost everything? I'll have to ask you about that at the station. But I'm really sorry, nobody deserves that," he said with a grimace. "It is only after we lose everything, that we are free to do anything," I replied. The nice officer just smiled at the comment and kept driving. ~~~ Lorian sat in a little room that happened to be setup as a little office. A woman sat down across the table from Lorian, "Hello, my name is Mary McGee. I'm the police liason for social services." "Oh, okay," Lorian replied. "Now, first question. Have you been through MORFS recently?" Mary asked, observing the girl with a closely guarded expression. She smiled a bit when the girl sitting across from her just wiggled in her seat, obviously nervous and scared. Mary was an empath, and decided that the child could use a little calming down. Closing her eyes Mary projected a sense of calm and tranquility into the girl sitting across from her. The girl stopped fidgeting and seemed to calm down enough to answer the question clearly. "Ummm, yes." Mary laughed kindly, because the girl was obviously far brighter than her demeanor made her seem. "Yes? So what's your name?" Mary questioned. "I'm too ashamed to say," the small girl answered. "Don't be ashamed." Lorian looked at her closely, narrowing her eyes and studying the older woman's face, "I'm ashamed partially because I used to be a pure. A real bigot. And partially because I'm terribly ashamed of what I've become." "Oh. Well relax. I won't judge you," Mary said, projecting more reassuring thoughts to Lorian. "M-my name is...L-Lorian D-Danzerati," she said, before sobbing quietly, with her face in her human like hamster paws. Mary's eyes widened in surprise and she spilt the mug of coffee that she had sat on the table when she came in. Mary cursed, over having spilt some hot coffee on herself. But the girl started getting more agitated and depressed. Mary looked at the infamous pure, "I didn't curse because of you. I was cursing because I spilt coffee on myself." "You mean you don't hate me?" Lorian asked sadly. "No, although I know quite a bit about you. Your big speech aired on television the other day, and I saw it. No...I don't hate you." "I guess I got what was coming to me," she said quietly. "No Lorian, you're simply very unfortunate. So tell me something; the police told me you told them that you don't have a home to go back to. Why is that?" "Because my wife threw me out of the house," the girl said sadly. Mary McGee frowned a bit, since it was a slight bit odd talking to a small teenage girl who...used to be a middle aged man. But she had come across plenty of other odd things. "I assume they threw you out because of your...new blessing?" she questioned. "BLESSING? It's a curse! I'm being punished for being such a bigot all my life!" Lorian said angrily. "Perhaps. But it's best if you view it with a positive attitude. It'll help you through this ordeal." Mary sat quietly for a moment or two, eyeing the girl with curiosity. "You realize Ms. Danzaerati, that you're going to have to go into foster care?" "What! WHY?" Lorian asked, a hostile expression on her small face. "You're an adolescent. We can't turn you lose on your own, when you're not an adult," Mary said in serious tones. "I am not! I'm a full grown adult. Just...well, sort of. I just suffered a slight mishap that made me look like this," Lorian explained confidently. "You're little more than a child, and you damn well know it. So cut the crap," Mary said, with neither anger nor any other emotion in her voice. "But, I'm not!" Lorian explained, defensively. Mary merely frowned and continued on from her previous statement, "Doesn't matter what you are identity wise. Guess what? MORFS changes everything. You now inhabit the body of a small thirteen year old girl. You are therefore, recognized as a thirteen year old girl. Therefore, you will need to go into foster care, because you ARE a thirteen year old girl." Lorian looked down at her lap quietly, with a sad little smile. "Yeah yeah, I hear you." "Good. I already have a family lined up to receive you." Lorian continued frowning, looking around the office without interest. Mary frowned a little too, feeling sorry for the girl, "You'll start 7th grade at Sun Valley High School." Lorian was shocked, "WHAT!? I have to go to school too? I have a masters degree in political science!" Mary smiled at the angry girl before her, "Doesn't matter. Thirteen year olds go to school. Therefore you will go to school whether you like it or not." "But I shouldn't have to! I did all that shit already." "It's the law, Lorian. The law was made in order to help individuals such as yourself, adapt to their new identity and situation. I'm sorry that this had to happen to you. BUT, you are in fact a school aged girl. Perhaps going through school again will help you adapt to these changes, and help you establish both a new life, and a new identity." "Fine," Lorian replied. "But couldn't I go to Harper's Valley High School instead? My kids go to Sun Valley High, and it'll hurt too much to see them everyday." "No, I'm sorry. You new foster family lives within the Sun Valley High School district." Mary replied. "And what's more, I'd like you to pick a new first and middle name. I can't force you to, but you should for your own good. I have a form for you to fill out here," Mary said, handing a form to a very flustered Lorian. Lorian looked at the sheet. It was simple, most of it was already filled out and contained his person identification numbers and such. At the bottom what a line for the name change, and then he had to write both his new signature, and his old one, to authorize it. Lorian thought for a while. Being put on the spot like such, made it difficult to pick a new name. Then slowly Lorian wrote out a first and a middle name, that he thought he would like. The on the line below, he signed next to the X, with both his new signature, and his old one. Lorian couldn't help but feel like he had just signed his soul away to the devil himself, as he looked at the signatures. "Lorian no longer exists," Lorian said quietly. "I no longer am, who I am." The signature read, 'McKayla Grace Danzaerati.' Mary took the form from him, "Ah, McKayla is a very pretty name. Don't worry, you'll get used to it after a while." "I hope so," McKayla answered. "Although I liked my old name better." The newly named McKayla sat back in her seat solemnly, and thought about how uncomfortable the next few years would probably be. Worse, was he kept thinking about his female anatomy, and the impending responsibilities and burdens it would impose on him. "By the way McKayla, don't tell your new foster family about your previous identity. It'll be easier that way if they just assume you were always this age," Mary added before she led me out of her office. ~~~ Mary led me out to a waiting area near the front of the police station where I was to wait for my foster parents to pick me up. This shit was irritating the fuck out of me. I felt like a freak, especially now that they deemed I couldn't even take care of myself. "This fucking sucks," I said under my breath. "That's no way for a young lady to speak," a woman said from just behind me. I spun around in my seat to find a middle aged woman dressed in a conservative business suit. "I'm not a young lady, and don't appreciate being addressed as such." "Are you ready to go?" the woman asked, ignoring my verbal reprimand. "You're my new...uh, foster mother?" I questioned. She looked at me blankly, "You're McKayla right?" I looked at her for a moment, "Yes." "Then yes, I would be your new foster mother." She said rather coldly. "Oh joy," I replied sourly. "Come along," the woman said, seemingly ignoring my sarcasm. "I don't even know your name," I said, not budging from my seat, much to the woman's dismay. "Danielle Jensen." "Okay Danielle, I have to sign out before I leave," I said, hopping up and proceeding to the reception desk. I signed out, and then the social worker liason named Mary was called out to sign off on the arrangements. Mary McGee shook Danielle's hand and then waved to me as I was hauled off by Danielle. I just stuck my tongue out at Mary and gave her the finger. She frowned a bit and then smiled and returned the favor. I laughed in good humor and then waved goodbye myself. The ride to the Jensen residence would have to wait. Danielle noticed I didn't have any shoes or proper clothes. "The state gives me money to take care of you. So first thing is first. We have to clothe you properly and get you some shoes," Danielle told me. "Yeah, shoes would be nice," I answered. Then I look thoughtful for a moment, "I wonder if I'll be able to access my bank accounts." "Bank accounts?" Danielle asked, nonplussed. "Yes, bank accounts. You know...accounts at a bank...that have money in them," I answered, sarcastically. Danielle just sighed, and didn't ask any further questions. "Wait here in the car, and I'll go into the store and buy you some trainers, that way you don't have to run around the store without shoes," she said...strangely enough with a smile. ~~~ Danielle had eventually gotten me a pair of pink trainers, that were made by Puma. I'd worn a suit everyday for the past decade, so the casual shoes took a bit to get used to. She let me pick the stores I went to...which was a mixed blessing. I had a vague idea of what girls my...biological age wore, just based on what I observed my daughters wearing. What I ended up with was a mix of cropped tops, halter tops and a assortment of blouses and pants. Not to mention the cropped halter tops. Plus the girls tee-shirts I bought for myself. If someone was responsible for me specifically getting this strain of AMORFS, then I think they overdid it. I've never been more miserable in my life than I was shopping in these stores, whilst being harassed by Pures. Altogether, I felt like a crossdresser and a pervert while shopping in the stores. Not to mention I felt like an absolute freak when the Pures taunted me. My sexuality was harassing me the entire time too. I don't think I'll be able to ever have a relationship without feeling like a pedophile. I can just tell...I'm going to hate my life. I'm seriously considering suicide...and I haven't even made it through day one yet. "You want to get something to eat?" Danielle asked me. "Yeah...I suppose so. Could we go over to that Subway at the food court?" I questioned. "Sure McKayla. If that's where you want to go," Danielle said, smiling at me. Danielle split off from me, giving me money to buy something, while she went to a food vendor nearby. There were many vendors, since this was quite aptly, a food court. When it was finally my turn to get something, I was eying the menu. When suddenly the blonde haired girl behind the register yelled, "We don't serve animals here! Get lost, you filthy little rat!" I was shocked and blushed bright red...not that anybody would be able to see it since my face was covered in short black fur. I raised my hand and touched the fur that covered my face, and began to cry. Some people ignored me, while some looked sad and sympathetic. Some gave me consoling looks, while giving the person working the register dirty looks. Other people gave me the dirty looks and nods of approval to the clerk. I felt ashamed, because I used to be that type of person...and deep down I still resented the morfies, even though I was one. "Excuse me, what did you just say to my daughter?" I looked up to see Danielle had evidently taken notice of what was going on. The clerk paled when confronted with someone who was either a non- morf, or a completely normal looking morf. "I-I didn't...uh...say anything," she said defensively, staring daggers at me the whole while. Danielle also noticed that, and just became angrier over it. Danielle didn't relent though, and made a fuss until she got the manager. Interestingly enough, it appeared that the manager didn't have the same Pure type of agenda as the clerk did. Or perhaps he just hid it well, in order to safe guard his job. Either way I had my food in no time flat, and luckily the manager made the sandwich. If the clerk had, I'd have been worried she would spit in it when I wasn't looking. She looked like that type of individual. Danielle sat us at a table on the far side of the food court, away from people who might give us grief. "You referred to me as your daughter," I said quietly. "Well you are my foster daughter. I always toss out the foster title since I think it promotes better bonding between me and my foster children," she answered warmly. I suddenly had a lot more respect for her, than I did before. "You shouldn't have defended me." She gave me a curious look while eating a French fry from her meal, "Why?" "Because the clerk was right. I am nothing but a filthy animal," I said, completely and utterly ashamed of myself. "Oh, you are not! Don't ever think such things!" I suddenly blushed a bit. I was also feeling irritable because I was crying all the time lately. Perhaps it was the female hormones, or perhaps it was just my state of mind lately. I didn't feel like a cry baby...I just felt like so many bad things had happened. My entire life had been destroyed and left in shambles. And to top it all off, I had fur and a vagina.