Terrys Date Night final chapter
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Terry's Blog free porn video
I found this on myspace, I'm not sure if it is fiction or biographical.
It may not be for some readers because of the level of violence, but if
it is true, we may have something to worry about.
I'm writing this to keep my sanity, as they have taken everything else
away from me. A little less then a month ago, I was Terry Dunmore. Now
I'm Bobbie Jaxs, tomorrow I'm not sure.
It all started with a bad dream. I was in a room in front of about a
dozen or so men in business suits. The only two I recognized were Pat
Robertson, and Rush Limbaugh. It almost seemed I was on trial, as the men
argued in front of me. I could only hear bits of what was being said.
"It's fruitcakes like him that let Obama, take over the country."
"Damn peaceniks, don't know a thing about the real world, we have to make
them take stock in themselves."
"I don't know if this will work, after all they got Fictionmoonia going
again."
"We need all white American males to come to their senses again.
"Fictionmania, is part of the problem, we keep trying to sabotage it, and
it keeps coming back, place has more lives then a cat."
"If this works those sissies will realize the error or their ways, and do
what ever we ask them. After a few years of this, they will do anything
to get back into the fold. Then we can take our country back."
"Well we'll start with him tonight, if it works, we start testing large
scale in Frisco in two months."
"I'm sure he'll find it bloody awful, he he."
"Are you sure this won't end up another 'Clockwork Orange'?"
"If that happens we disavow this operation."
"But what about Dunmore if it fails?"
"Who will he tell?"
I woke up in a sweat, feeling very out of it, glad the strange nightmare
was over. The light of predawn, barely entering the room, creating
strange unknown, shadows throughout the room. I didn't have to get up for
work till after 7:30, and not wanting to return to that dreadful dream, I
thought to myself, "I don't have anything better to do, might as well
beat off." I reached down to play with myself. My underwear felt strange
as my hand went below the elastic. I could feel my hair, and something
moist, as I fumbled around half asleep. I tried to figure out why I
couldn't find my cock, or balls. My eyes started adjusting to the
increasing light. As I pulled my hand back I could see it was covered in
blood. I jumped out of the bed, pulled down my underpants, and looked at
my crotch. Blood was running down my thighs as I screamed repeatedly, "Oh
my God, someone cut of my dick!" The screams turned into sobs, as a bald
middle aged man broke the door down.
As light from the hall flooded the area, I realized I had never been in
this room before. Blood now stared dripping on the floor, and my screams
got louder, "Help! Call 911! Help me find my dick!" As I started tearing
the bed apart.
"Gladys what the Hell is wrong? Your scaring the kids! Look at the mess
you are making! That blood is not going to come out of the carpet!" the
bald man yelled at me.
"Who the HELL is Gladys? Who are you?" I demanded. I was so upset it was
making my voice crack.
"Calm down dear, you'll feel better after a nice hot shower, he said."
"Clam down! What kind of a sick bastard are you? I said, as I ran to the
phone by my bedside and dialed 911. "Send an ambulance, call the police,
I've been castrated!" I shrieked into the phone, before the bald man
pulled it out of my hands. He tried to grab me as I tried to fight back.
"Gladys what's wrong with you, your freaking me out."
Two small girls ran into the room crying, "Mommy! Daddy! What's wrong?"
"Now look what you've done, Gladys! Calm down you want the neighbors to
hear you?"
I just stated screaming louder, as the man and I got into a shouting
match. I was yelling so loud I never heard the cops as they broke down
the front door to the house, they heard the wailing coming from my
bedroom, thinking it was a case of domestic abuse or such.
The older policeman was breathing heavy, barely able to talk as he looked
at me, "Did he hit you?"
"The bastard cut off my dick! Help me find it! I need to get to a
hospital before I bleed to death!" I cried.
"Lady what are you talking about?" The officer replied, as he gave me a
look as if I was crazy.
"Please, you have to help me, they cut off my dick and balls!"
At this point I saw the ambulance arrived, and I ran to it, banging on
the doors to get in, as I begged, Please, please you have to get me to
the hospital! I'm bleeding to death.
The younger policeman started talking to the paramedics. They let me into
the vehicle, and gave me a shot, the next thing I remember was waking up,
strapped down to a hospital bed.
"I'm Dr. Stone, Mrs. Tanner are you feeling any better?" an older
gentleman seemed to say to me.
"Who are you talking to?" I said, in a scratchy voice.
"Would you prefer I call you Gladys?" He said to me.
"My name is Terry Dunmore, Who is Gladys Tanner?"
"I see what you mean Mr. Tanner, she seems delusional, has she been under
much stress lately."
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the bald man from earlier, as he
said, "She's always been moody at her time of the month, but nothing like
this."
"Get that man out of here, he tried to mutilate me! Let me up, I need to
call my office," I told the Dr.
The Dr. and the bald man walked out of the room for what seemed like
hours. When the Dr. returned he again questioned me, "Mrs Tanner, when
and where were you born?"
"It's Terry Dunmore, and I was born January 30, 1980. In Trenton N.J," I
noticed my voice sounded much higher then it should have been. "What have
you done to me?" yet while I was saying this a childlike voice inside my
head said, /"Gladys Tanner, born June 21, 1963, in Boston Ma."
"Alright lets say your name is Terri. What is your job?"
"Computer annalist," I stated, while in the back of my mind the voice
stated,/ "Substitute teacher"
"Phone number?"
"xxx-xxx-4598."/"xxx-xxx-8451."
"Religion?"
"Catholic." I said but now the inner voice said,/"Jewish"
"Smoker?"
"No."/"Yes but i quit 2 years ago."
"What city is this?"
"I don't know, I thought I was in Washington."/"Cleavland."
"Social security number?"
"179 65 2475." / "224 33 7659."
"Eye color?"
"Blue."/"Brown"
With that the Dr. showed me a mirror, The reflection was that of an older
woman with brown eyes and a large nose. I opened my eyes wider for a
better look, so did my reflection. I started shrieking, as I tried to
figure out what happened to me. I didn't stop screaminging until the Dr.
added something to my i.v.
I woke up in a hospital gown, in a room with padded walls, a plastic
chair, with matching table, and a mattress on the floor, and a steel
toilet. My insides felt like they were falling out. The door was locked.
I looked into its small window into a hall of other similar door. There
was a slight reflection of the face I had seen in the mirror, in the
door's glass. I put my hands to the face. My hands were smaller, with
well manicured nails, painted deep red, and the ghost of a wedding band
was on my left finger. I trembled as I took my hands to explore the rest
of me. My belly was now hairless as I felt my way down. I felt around the
hair on my crotch, finding only a slit with a string coming out of it.
The whole area felt a very strange discomfort, I could feel my breathing
increase. I loosened the gown a little more and started feeling my chest
to confirm my latest fears. I had a pair of smallish breasts. As I
touched the nipples they seemed sore. I wished there was a mirror in the
room to get a better look at the changes. But I wasn't sure if there were
cameras hidden in the room, and I didn't want to put on a show for anyone
watching. Somehow, I was in the wrong body.
I had read stories about this happening, but the guys were transferred by
some wizard into beautiful women, you turned into someone you know, or
everyone in the world had swapped bodies. I was somehow trapped in body
of some middle aged woman, and 15 years of my life had been stolen from
me, and as the icing on the cake, I was on the rag.
After a half hour or so Dr. Stone entered the room with 3 other men, one
was an orderly carrying a tray of food. I couldn't remember the last meal
I had so I ate it ravenously as of the oldest of the men started to ask
me questions.
"I'm Dr. Thorn and I'm here to ask you some questions, first what is your
name?"
"I'm Terry Dunmore, what have you done to me?"
"Alright if that's what you want us to call you we will. Terri, we
haven't done anything, we are just trying to discover the cause of you
outbursts. Do you know what day it is?"
"I think its Wednesday May 6Th, but after all the drugs you've given me
I'm not sure."
"That's right Glad.... I mean Terri. Now do you remember what you were
doing last Sunday?" Dr. Stone asked.
"I was at the Jersey shore," I replied as the strange voice inside my
head said, "I was hosting a block party in my neighborhood."
"How old are you?" Dr Thorn asked.
"I'm 29, but something happened to me, I'm not supposed to be in this
body, please you've got to help me. I'm a man, not this Gladys person. I
think Rush Limbaugh did this to me." As I said it I realized how crazy I
must have sounded, but I went on trying to convince them of who I was.
The question went on for 90 minutes or so. In the end, when they left the
room, I knew they didn't believe me.
As the time passed, the urge to go to the bathroom grew. I put it off as
long as I could, but I found myself sitting on the cold steel toilet
without a seat. I figured I'd better remove the tampon from myself, as I
didn't think it would be a good idea to pee with it in me. I pulled on
the string, and with a slight discomfort out popped the cotton catch all.
After I peed I noticed that, I probably could have left it in, and now
had no way of putting the red soggy thing back. As I started to wipe
myself the small voice said to me, "Wipe back to front on your beaver,
and front to back on your ass."
"Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?" I asked out loud, but the
voice was no longer there. I got up and sat down on the chair, tring to
collect my thoughts.
After an hour a nurse came in with another tray of food. As I got up to
take it from her, she saw a fresh blood stain on my gown, and said to me,
"Would you like to take a shower and get some fresh undies?
After dinner she lead me down a hall to a bathroom with a shower. Part of
me wanted to run away, but where would I go? I had no money clothes or
i.d. I got the first look at myself as I undressed for my shower. My body
was definitely over forty, but I was thin, with a fairly flat tummy and
ass. My breasts were about a small B cup with just a hint of sag, at
least my body's former owner took care of herself. There was a small scar
where she must have had an appendix removed and a few small stretchmarks.
Other then my large nose I had a better then average face, with light
brown hair, in a pixie style, that suited my face well. But still I was
much older then I wanted to be. This was not the body I would choose for
myself, but at least I wasn't fat ugly or a senior citizen.
When I got out of the shower I found fresh robes and a new tampon. I
asked the nurse to help me put it in as I had never done it myself. She
put the applicator in my hand, and the next thing I knew, the small voice
was back, telling me how to put it in. I had inserted it as if I had been
doing it all my life. As she walked me back to my room, I asked if I
could at least have a telephone or at least a t.v. But being in the
mental ward doesn't allow such luxuries.
The next two days the Doctors. questioned me more and more, but still
they wouldn't believe me, until just before supper Dr. Stone came in the
room, and said, "Very strange about you claiming to be Terri Donemore,
but on a whim I looked up that social security number you gave me, it
matched a Terry Dunmore."
"That's me! Now do you believe me?"
"You can't be Terry Dunmore, he died in a fire this Tuesday morning."
"No it can't be, didn't all the things I said about being him check out?"
"We figured you somehow knew him, found out about his death, and the
shock did this to you. You will be going in the community ward tomorrow
morning. Now that we know how to treat you."
I pleaded with the Dr. to hear me out but he just left the room, locking
me in for the night. As I put a new tampon in as I prepared to go to bed,
I saw the bleeding had nearly stopped. I might be going to the nut house
tomorrow, but at least my period would be over.
I awoke the next morning feeling cold with long hair brushing my face.
Everything was blurry. My mouth tasted fowl as I ran my tongue through it
finding gaps in my teeth. As I pulled it back I got a look at my hands.
They were rough and the nails chewed off. I was in a cardboard box, in a
dirty alleyway. I was wearing a torn up pair of bluejeans, and it felt
like there was another pair of ill fitting pants under them, without any
underwear as a buffer, and a warm sticky feeling in my crotch. I was
wearing at least 3 shirts, the outside one being a very dirty blue
flannel one, and a green scarf around my head and neck.
I felt very hungry as I tried to get up. My face felt cold and itchy .As
I moved I felt the heavy weight of what must have been a large set of
breasts, unrestrained by any bra. I felt in my pockets for any i.d. or
money, only finding the stub of a pencil, as I headed for the street.
Some how I was in another woman's body, without any idea how or why the
change had happened.
I headed south as people looked at me in disgust, or trying to see
through me. I came across a McDonald's wishing I could stop the rumbling
in my stomach. There I saw a homeless man pulling bags out of the
trashcan in front of the restaurant, looking for any scraps of food,
while another shock a cup demanding change from the passers by. The first
homeless man went up to the second, "This is my corner! Get the fuck out
of here!"
"Its a free country, I have every right to be here!" the second man told
him.
The first man sucker punched the second, and soon a full blown fight
broke out. A nearby teen pulled out a camera and started filming the
fight, while another teen handed the homeless men sticks and bottles that
the two men used as weapons. The men fought like animals, as the first
teen continued filming. Blood was everywhere by the time the police came
and took the 2 men away, while the 2 teenagers laughed.
As the police car drove off I saw the cup of change the second man had
left. I counted out $3.85 and went into the restaurant. They almost
didn't let me in until I showed them that I had some money. I stopped
into the ladies room to wash up. Even with my blurred vision, I wasn't
happy to see the face in the mirror. I might have been pretty many years
ago, but this face looked hard. I had a long scar on my left check, my
skin had been exposed to to much sun, cold sores surrounded my mouth, my
nose had been broken and not properly set, and if my eyebrows were any
thicker they would have formed a uni brow. Washing the dirt off did help
but not much. I went into the stall, with wet paper towels, cleaning
myself the best I could. The inside of my inner pants were soaked in
blood, my beaver felt sore as I tried to clean it. Just my luck to end up
in another body, having her period. I lined my pants with toilet paper,
and ordered some food off the value menu, asking the counter girl where
the nearest library was.
I still had about a buck and a half left, as I ate my food on the way to
the library. I knew that homeless people could hang out in pubic
libraries stay warm, and even use a computer. As I walked up to the
librarian she looked at me in disgust as I asked how to use the
computers. I knew I had to be careful with what I said. If I started
telling her I was Terry Dunmore, the librarian would call the police or
the hospital, and I'd end up in another rubber room, without Gladys'
health insurance. The librarian asked me several questions before she
could issue me a temporary card.
"Name?" she asked.
I was about to make one up when that strange voice in my head reappeared
and said, /"Anna Hanson.""Anna Hanson," I replied.
"Age?"
"/34." "34."
"34? How could a body get this run down in 34 years?" I thought realizing
being Gladys wasn't so bad compared to this. And with the voice's help I
answered all the questions to the librarian's satisfaction.
However in less the 10 minutes I was on line. First I looked up my
obituary, it said that Terry Dundmore died in a fire cause by poor
wiring, and the death was not being investigated. I then found there was
a homeless shelter less then 6 blocks from where I was at.
I entered the shelter and the voice gave me the answers to all the
questions I had gotten at the front desk. During the interview I found
out about my latest host. Anna had run away from home at 14, and was a
prostitute for 15 years. Her pimp wasn't making enough money on her after
she turned 32, as she had v.d. and was now loosing her looks. He decided
to fix it that no other pimp would want her, that's how she got the scar
on her face and lost several of her teeth. And she had been living in the
streets ever since. They told me I could stay as long as I wanted if I
would help out in the kitchen, as long as I took a shower first.
The warm water felt good as the years of dirt flowed down the drain.
There wasn't a full mirror but I could see that years of abuse aged this
body an extra 20 years. My breasts were large and pendulous, and hadn't
been in a bra in years. I must have lost a lot of weight as my skin was
loose, my butt sagged. I nearly clogged the drain, shaving off my excess
body hair. Though I wasn't sure of what to do about my eyebrows. My mouth
was sore after I brushed my teeth, but at least most of the bad taste was
gone. At least my hair looked good, now that it was clean, it had a
slight red shimmer to it, and it ran most of the way down my back.
They brought up clean clothes and underwear. They gave me a simple dress,
but at least there were no holes in it. In my panties was a kotex, it
felt very strange when I walked, but I needed something. The also bra
felt odd, but when I looked in the mirror with my new outfit on, I no
longer felt like crying, as long as I didn't look at my scar.
It felt weird being in women's clothes, but they had to do for the time
being until I could find a way back to being me again. After supper, I
helped out in the kitchen, most of the people were friendly, trying to
help get the homeless back into the real world.
I worked so hard in the kitchen, that the head of the shelter got me a
job at the very McDonald's I had started this chapter in. The clerk that
had waited on me couldn't believe the change, but I could see some of the
lazier teens didn't like me. Especially Ted, the guy who was filming the
homeless men fighting, and his buddy Shawn who had armed the homeless men
with broken bottles. I worked hard to prove myself , and they thought it
made them look bad.
I was walking back to the shelter, after helping close down the
restaurant, when I notice a pay phone. I realized I still had the change
from my first day in Anna's body, so I figured I'd call my Mother and
tell her I was alright.
I put the money in the phone, and dialed, I nearly cried hearing Mom's
voice at the other end saying, "Hello..........."
I burst out, "Mom it's me Terry, you've got to help me, I'm stuck out in
Oregon."
"Listen you twisted bitch, your not funny, Terry has been dead over a
week!"
I tried to tell her it was me but she hung up the phone. With tears in my
eyes I then tried the number my inner voice gave me for Gladys. "Is
Gladys Tanner there?"
A small child answered, "Mummy is in the hospital, but they are letting
her out at the end of the month. She said she can't wait to come back
home, so she can read us bedtime stories again."
I was about to ask her what happened, when a set hands grabbed me and
pulled me away from the phone. As another grabbed my feet. they dragged
me into an alley, as the taller one said, "Go back into your alley bitch,
and don't come back to work. Or you'll get more of this....."
His partner pinned me, as he took off his pants. I tried to scream as
they stuffed a dirty rag in my mouth. "Don't struggle and you won't get
hurt as badly," the shorter one laughed, as he pulled off my panties.
The large one had an 8 inch cock that he waved in front of my face and
said, "Boss thinks your the best thing since Cocoa Cola, but your just an
ugly homeless cunt." As he ripped of my shirt and bra, then slapped me in
the face. His buddy bit my nipple so hard I thought he had bitten it off.
As he thrust his dick in me. My pussy was already sore, and as he entered
my head filled with stars, as his buddy bit my other nipple. Time slowed
down as the pain and indignity continued, and my insides were being torn
apart.
He finally pulled his dick out and looked at it. "You miserable cunt! Why
didn't you tell me you were on the rag? Now my cock is all covered in
blood, lick it off, or you will lose the rest of your teeth. The shorter
one took the gag out of my mouth, while pulling out a switchblade, and
holding it to my throat. Between the blood and the cum, it tasted
horrible, but what could I do?
As I licked his dick, my head started spinning, suddenly my vision was no
longer blurry. The pain from all the bites and slaps no longer hurt. The
spinning stopped, as I looked down to see Anna's face licking a
dick....... My dick.
"My turn for sloppy seconds," the shorter bully said.
As the woman on the ground cried, "Please Shawn don't! It's me Ted in
here!"
"I told you to keep quite cunt!" As he hit her in the face and two teeth
flew out. He got on top of her and started raping her. As he pulled out
he grabbed his knife saying, "Now you die bitch!" I grabbed a nearby
bottle and smashed it over his head. While he was passed out, I went back
to the phone and dialed 911.
I knew, I needed to go somewhere else for the night but where? I felt the
pockets of the pants I was now wearing. I found a set of keys and the
wallet of Ted Charles, as well as his McDonald's i.d.. The apartment
wasn't far away. The first key I tried opened the door. Once inside I
fixed a sandwich, showered, rejoiced in being a man again, and went to
bed.
I was still in Ted's body when I awoke the next morning. Happy that I was
young again and male. I didn't care that I was in a crappy studio
apartment, with furniture out of Good Will. I had a dick again. I ate a
cold pop tart for breakfast while listening to the radio. The news
covered how a woman had been brutally raped, but the rapist was in police
custody.
I went to work that afternoon, determined to make the best of this
future. By the end of my shift the manager asked what had come over me?
If I would work this hard another week he would give me the raise, I was
passed up for last month. As I went to bed that night I felt, "Life is
good."
As I awoke to an alarm clock ringing, I knew there was something wrong.
There was a canopy over my bed, and the room was pink. I felt that stick
wetness between my legs again. As I put my hand down under my blanket, I
realized I had transferred into yet another woman, and she was having her
period. I sat on the edge of the bed, and my feet didn't touch the floor.
I looked around till i found a mirror. I stared at a very young
reflation. I was wearing an over sized Jonas Brothers night shirt.I had
short blond hair, a couple of pimples, braces, blue eyes and a cute
turned up nose. I couldn't have been more then 11 or 12.
There was a large blood stain on the bed, covers and my night shirt. I
figured I might be in trouble, when a man in his 30s opened the door and
said "Hurry up Bobbie, or you will be late for school."
"But," (who was this man I thought when the voice in the back of my head
said '/Uncle Frank') "Uncle Frank, I think I need to take a shower or
something first."
"Oh crap! Don't be scared Bobbie, this is all perfectly natural, this is
what they call your period," he said in a nervous voice. "Let me see if
my girlfriend left any sanity napkins."
He came back with a worried look on his face, "All Kate left are some
tampons, and I have no idea how they go in. I'm going to run to the
store, you take a shower and get those bloody things in the wash quick.
I sort of wanted to tell him the tampons would be fine, but how would I
tell him I'd gone through this twice before, as someone else. I stuffed
an old sock in my panties, and gathered up the sheets.
I had the clothes in the washer when he returned with 4 different boxes
of kotex. "I had no idea there were so many different types of these
things. Your only 11, I thought this wouldn't happen for awhile yet. Do
you know what your period is?"
I told him, "Yes they talked about it in health class, and some of the
girls in my class told me about it."
"That's good, I had no idea how to tell you. Maybe Kate can come over
tonight and tell you more about it. You better take a stay home from
school today, and take a shower. We can talk about it when I get home
from work. Bye Bobbie."
I looked at my naked body in the mirror as soon as the man left. I was
short, skinny, no butt, no boobs, no hair below the neck. I wondered how
long I would be in this body, what happened to the other people I had
been, or was I just loosing my mind. I needed a stable point, something I
could go back to, no matter who I had become. I needed a blog.
I clicked on to myspace, hoping that this wasn't a little girls dream,
that Terry Dunmore was real. And what happened to the lives I had
touched.
Kierra
- 14.03.2020
- 19
- 0
