Multiverse Apocalypse
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Ch...Ch...Ch...Changes free porn video
Ch...Ch...Ch...Changes
(Part 1)
Hey everyone, the Island man is back! At the request (encouragement they
would tell you) of my employer I went back to school to complete an
additional degree so I had to take a little hiatus from writing - but I'm
done (at least for now). It's been quite a while since I have contributed
to the community and felt it was time to give back again.
It's been a very busy time - I'm sure you all understand how it goes ...
family, career and life happens. Plus, during this time of high stress I
rediscovered my love of running - an absolute must for me during the last
several months. Well, all the running led to training for a marathon which
you can imagine, takes a tremendous amount of time.
But anyway, I've had some ideas for some stories I wanted to get down.
This one will be a little different for me in that it will be a multi-part
story as opposed to those I've previously submitted. I also have a
request - please provide me your feedback; I sincerely appreciate your
input. I don't usually respond in the posts because I don't want to
influence the feedback, what I really want to do is to listen and grow
from your comments.
One last comment - just for fun and something different, I'll be making
some references to other stories, some mine, some other's. You'll see
these notations as a number enclosed in brackets with the story I'm
referring to at the end of the document.
I hope you enjoy - I'll write more as time permits...
--1--
I was growing tired as we sat watching one of those silly reality
television shows Jen enjoyed so much. I personally didn't care for the
exploitation of the "contestants" I felt it generated, but hey, what do I
know?
I looked over at Jen, discretely studying her. We had been married for 5
years, and she was still the love of my life. Her shoulder-length dark
brown hair shimmered in the light - it was one of the first things I
noticed about her when we met, her hair and beautiful green eyes.
Another Friday night spent at home, going to bed before 11:00 - our lives
were nothing exciting. More and more I felt like we were in a rut. Most of
our college friends were now married and starting families, but so far Jen
continued to change the topic whenever I would hint about starting our
family.
And while we were still young, as you enter your 30's, the thought of
family seems to grow increasingly important. I'm certain it's a natural
drive ensure the continued population of the species, but I really didn't
care, I just knew I wanted to be a father and that Jen and I would be
amazing parents.
Bored with television and glancing at the readout on the digital clock in
the kitchen seeing it was after 10:00, I decided to call it a night. Jen
looked comfortable stretched out on the couch seemingly absorbed in the
playback of an earlier recording of people attempting to survive in a
remote location by eating all types of vileness I personally wouldn't
consider to be food.
After stripping down in preparation for bed, I began my nightly ritual of
washing my face, brushing my teeth and most importantly emptying my
bladder to prevent unwanted awakenings in the middle of the night.
As I finished my business, I shook and gave my penis a once over. Not the
monstrous tool I had always hoped for, in fact, it was probably a little
on the small size. I had measured it a few times in my youth, hoping the
size would increase, but it never reached a length beyond five inches with
a disappointing girth as well.
Never having received much commentary from any of my previous lovers (not
that there had been many) about my tool or technique, I had come to think
of myself as an average Joe, perhaps a less than average Joe. This in
turn did little for my self confidence and self-esteem. That was until I
met Jen.
We had met at a mutual friend's party in college. I noticed her right away
from across the room. Because of the number of people in the room, I
could only make out her face, which was plenty for me to know I wanted to
see more. Her soft green eyes held me captive; it must have taken at least
30 seconds (about 29 longer than usual) for my eyes to drift to her chest.
Lost in my thoughts about Jen's and my first meeting, I finally crept off
to bed but couldn't fall asleep. Eventually Jen joined me in bed after
changing into her typical sleeping ensemble of panties and a t-shirt. As
she crawled into bed next to me her body warmth felt extremely comforting
to me and I snuggled a little closer spooning into her curvaceous back
side.
I leaned over to kiss Jen goodnight and softly began to stroke her hair, a
technique I used when hinting at romance, but she was having nothing to do
with it tonight. She evaded my advances with skill acquired from long
practice. And while I always told myself it had nothing to do with my
skills as a lover (or more importantly the size of my member), I sort of
suspected it did.
******
I didn't sleep well that night, which was unusual for me. I tossed and
turned most of the night feeling flashes of hot and cold with bizarre
dreams that were just out of memory's reach during my many wakeful
moments. I wondered if I hadn't contracted a virus of some sort and this
was the first stage of a weekend of illness.
Eventually, I did drift off into a deep slumber sometime in the early
hours of the morning. But sleep wasn't to last long for me. I was so
exhausted that it took me a moment to come awake, and even when I did; it
took me a few more moments to realize what was going on. The blankets had
been completely pulled away and a very naked and very sexy Jen was
performing oral ministrations on my member!
I was completely taken aback because not only was this something Jen
rarely did for me (an occasional birthday or anniversary) but when she
did, it still was under protest. This time, I was astonished to see Jen
looking up at me with undisguised lust in her eyes. She was *definitely*
enjoying what she was doing, but nowhere near as much as I was!
While I was definitely enjoying the attention my appendage was receiving,
I was faced with the problem that it wasn't *my* appendage! While I was
certainly feeling all the right feelings, the penis I now had was at least
4 inches longer and a good inch wider than my former unit.
At first, my mind kept attempting to deny the data my eyes were feeding
it. I kept trying to tell myself that I was in some sort of incredibly
erotic dream or perhaps a fever induced hallucination. I knew this was
impossible, this kind of thing didn't happen. It *couldn't* happen, and
yet, there it was, firmly attached to me. But the final point of
confirmation for me that finally convinced me that this was not the penis
I had fallen asleep with was that I was no longer circumcised. This was
certainly something I doubted a tired or feverish mind would have the
detail to create.
My emotions were in turmoil. I was feeling fear, excitement, arousal,
happiness all at the same time. The adrenalin pumping through me combined
with Jen's continued focus on my newly enlarged member nearly made me
climax. Sensing my approaching orgasm, Jen quickly positioned herself over
my huge penis and began a slow decent.
Her broad smile slowly turned to a look of pure ecstasy as she slowly
lowered herself onto my now very rigid organ. Reaching up, I cupped her
nicely shaped, if a bit small, breasts gently squeezing the rubbery
nipples between my thumb and forefinger eliciting a soft moan from her.
Watching Jen start slowly, then with increasing speed, move up and down my
much longer shaft, I focused once again on the sensation I was receiving.
The feelings were so much more intense for me than they had been in the
past, undoubtedly due to the increased friction due to my larger size.
And I could tell Jen was experiencing the same sense of increased pleasure
- I had never seen or heard her react to our sexual encounters as she was
now. Not even close.
******
I was so confused and unsure of what to think. I almost felt like I was
losing my mind - especially since I seemed to be the only one who noticed
the change. The thought of this type of change being possible caused my
mind the same type of dizzying panic as when I tried to think in depth
about eternity - the human mind simply isn't equipped to fully grasp
certain concepts.
I finally decided that the only way I was going to manage this change was
to accept it as some kind of cosmic gift that I shouldn't question. I just
had no other way to wrap my mind around the unexplainable.
Beyond the bizarre change to my anatomy, nothing else seemed to be
different. The rest of my body seemed the same as I remembered it, Jen
seemed the same, the house seemed the same, and so as the weekend
proceeded, I simply did my best not to dwell further on the situation.
As I showered, I had a chance to examine my "new friend" a little more
intimately. Even in its soft state, it was longer and thicker than my old
appendage when it was fully aroused! As I pulled back my newly recovered
foreskin to wash, I began to get aroused again. "You're unbelievable!" I
told my new penis feeling a bit of pride and satisfaction at how quickly
it recovered. "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
It seemed that the one change, beyond the obvious physical one, was the
Jen was much more willing to be intimate with me and more sexually ...
eager I guess is the best word. I didn't hold this against her, I never
doubted she loved me, but sexually I'm certain I was now able to satisfy
her more deeply.
When I returned to work the following Monday, things seemed different
there as well. The women in the office looked at me a little differently
and seemed ... friendlier. Yes, definitely friendlier and Cindy, our admin
who had barely spoken to me the Friday before was now flirting with me to
the point it was disrupting my work.
My only explanation to this was that I must be subconsciously exhibiting
more self-confidence than I had in the past. How strange...
--2--
A couple of weeks passed when I was awoken again in the middle of the
night. As I was coming awake, I noticed I had slept on my hand - and I
must have slept on it hard because it was definitely numb to the point
where the sharp pins and needles feeling of the circulation returning
wasn't even present. Trying to restore the blood flow, I grasped my right
hand with my left and began to gently shake it to help expedite the
process.
Odd, it didn't seem to be responding. And even more odd was the texture of
the skin was ... not right. Instead of the hairy, usually rough texture I
was accustomed to, the skin felt soft and hairless.
It was still early enough in the morning that the room was dark, so I
couldn't see clearly, but I began to become a little nervous about what
was wrong with my hand. I crept out of bed trying not to disturb Jen and
headed toward the attached bathroom. Quietly shutting the door behind me,
I turned on the light to better examine my hand. As my eyes slowly
adjusted to the increase of light in the room and I was able to focus on
my hand, I cried out loud in shock and surprise.
My right hand was NOT my hand! I mean, it was attached to me, but it was
not the same hand that had been attached when I had gone to bed. Holding
my hands up side-by-side to compare, I began to evaluate the differences.
My left hand looked exactly the same as it always had: light hair running
up to my first set of knuckles, short nails, wide palm, and thick fingers.
While in comparison, my right hand was hairless, had long slender fingers,
a rather narrow palm and long fingernails. Long *painted* fingernails! It
was not only the wrong hand; it was the wrong gender of hand! And why the
hell were the nails painted red?!?
Trying to make sense of what had happened, I carefully examined my new
hand. There were several things I noticed at once. First, I didn't have
complete feeling in the hand. I realized I had earlier mistaken the lack
of sensation for a lack of circulation, but I was beginning to suspect it
was something more. Next, I noticed the color of skin on my right hand
was different, it was not only a couple of shades darker than my normal
skin color, but had more of a brown tone than the bronze I was accustomed
to. And finally, I didn't have complete control over the hand. I mean I
would send the mental command, but the finer motor skills didn't seem to
be fully functional - almost as if all the tendons weren't fully attached.
I could move my fingers and grasp large items, but that was about it.
The final shock to me was when I discovered the very faint scar line
between my wrist and elbow (closer to the wrist) where the hand was
attached. Almost as if somehow in the middle of the night, a group of
elves had entered our house but instead of cobbling shoes, they had
instead cobbled a new hand.
My head was spinning as I tried to wrap my mind around a world where you
can go to bed perfectly normal, and wake up the next day with a different
body part! This thought had no sooner entered my mind when a chill ran
through my heart. Wondering what else might have changed, I quickly
checked the area I was most concerned with.
Using my fully functional left and my partially functional right hands, I
grasped the waistband of my boxers and checked. I let out a gentle sigh
of relief to see my new manhood was still intact. Trying to take deep
breaths, I forced myself to continue my examination which came up negative
- only the hand (as if that weren't enough) had changed.
I suddenly became aware that Jen had awoken and was standing behind me
watching my self-examination. I had no idea how long she had been standing
there, but when I caught her reflection in the mirror, it was one of
concern.
"What's wrong Babe?" she asked as she walked up behind me and embraced me
from behind.
I could feel the warm comfort of her body pressed against mine and the
gently push of her breasts into my back. This calmed me considerably just
having her near, but my heart was still running at capacity, a fact that
didn't escape her as she laid her head against my back.
"My ... my hands," I started, "they're different. How is this possible?" I
said letting the final words drift into a rather silent sob. I didn't even
realize until that moment how emotionally charged I was.
Jen came around in front of me cradling my head in her palms and looked me
straight in the eyes. "Tom, Honey, we've been through this. You know it
doesn't bother me and this was the best choice we had with the options we
were presented with."
Her comments left my mind reeling! She knew my hands were different?!?
As impossible as it was, this situation was normal to her! My reaction
was to break down into sobbing tears. My hand had been deformed, no, not
deformed - completely replaced! And she saw nothing wrong with it! How
was this possible?
Still gently holding my face in her hands, Jen began wiping away my tears
with her thumbs. "Baby, it's okay!" she coaxed. "I know this is hard for
you, but we'll get through it together. And it's for the best, really.
Why don't you jump in the shower, and I'll go downstairs and make some hot
tea for you." She said turning the shower on for me.
Relenting and finally catching my breath, I headed toward the shower.
When I was finished, I dressed in a robe and headed downstairs. Since it
was Saturday morning, I was in no hurry to get dressed and under the
circumstances; it was for the best that it wasn't a work day.
******
As I rounded the corner heading toward the kitchen, I heard Jen's voice
speaking softly to someone. "... not sure what triggered ... yes, yes,
perhaps a nightmare ... why repressing now? We were making such great
progress? Okay, yes, I will have him make an appointment."
"Who was that?" I said startling her slightly as she hung up the phone.
"Doctor Suthar. She wants you to make an appointment to come in on
Monday," Jen said as she set a hot cup of tea and a bottle of pills down
for me at the table. "And don't forget to take your medicine." she added.
So many questions ran through my mind. As I sat down, I looked at the
bottle, but didn't recognize the name of the drug. "What is this?"
Jen sat down across from me. Again, the patient yet worried look. "They're
your immunosuppressive drugs Sweetie - so your body doesn't reject the
transplant. You know this; we've been through this dozens of times."
"Transplant!" my mind screamed. Outwardly I was trying my best not to show
too much emotion in fear of making the situation worse, but my shaking
left hand betrayed my inner turmoil.
******
Later that day after Jen felt comfortable leaving me alone long enough to
run to the grocery store, I sat calmly examining my new right hand,
contemplating yet again, how something so bizarre could have occurred.
Trying to put logic into an illogical situation, I began to mentally note
the facts as I knew them.
* Fact - no matter how improbably or unlikely for these changes to
occur, they indeed had occurred.
* Fact - it seemed that I was the only person that seemed to be
affected. At least as far as I could tell.
* Fact - whatever was causing these changes to me, left my memory
intact, yet everyone else's memory seemed to change.
* Fact - reality seemed to change to explain the differences in
me.
As I sat pondering my situation, it suddenly occurred to me. While
internal organ transplants were certainly fairly routine in today's world,
limb transplants were not. I should be able to find some information on
the web about my transplant.
Moving to our home office, I began to search for hand transplants noting
that it was not particularly easy to type with one hand. Sure enough, I
found what I was looking for. It was so bizarre to read about this
situation as if it had actually occurred and made news headlines, but to
me, read like a science fiction story.
The article outlined the usual situation of how my lower arm and hand had
been mutilated beyond recognition in an unfortunate car accident. What
made the case so interesting was not only the fact that I had agreed to a
transplant, but also the donor.
According to the articles I read, the blood type and other indices used
for successful transplants matched an unheard of 100% between myself and
the anonymous donor, but what made the circumstances the most unique was
that the transplanted hand had been provided by a female donor.
My mind was reeling by the time I had finished my research. I felt tired,
confused and generally nauseous. And there was something about my new
hand that was nagging me, something I couldn't quite put my finger on,
something ... strangely familiar about it.
******
When I arrived back at work on Monday, I noticed that the flirtatious
environment I had previously enjoyed was completely gone. In its place
was a mixture of sympathy and possibly loathing. It was very confusing
for me.
As I sat at my desk, I noticed an unusual keyboard. It took me a little
time to determine that it was a special keyboard designed for people who
only have the use of one hand. As I sat trying to focus on my work, my
mind instead kept drifting.
Finally deciding to take a break, I sat rubbing the sleep from my eyes and
focused on the wedding photos on my desk. These pictures always brought me
great pleasure. Jen dressed in her white gown, seemingly glowing with
happiness on our special day. I also enjoyed the picture of our wedding
party as we stood repeating our vows. And one of my favorites was the
picture of the close-up of our hands with our wedding rings...
Then it hit me - I grabbed the photo of our hands holding the picture up
and looking closely at it paying particular attention to the shape and
size of Jen's hands. I then compared the picture of her left hand to that
of my new right hand and almost collapsed under the weight of realization.
My right hand was the perfect complement to the picture of Jen's left.
That's what had been nagging me, why the hand looked so familiar. It was
an exact copy of Jen's. Knowing there was nothing more I could do until I
got home, I tried to lose myself once again in my work.
******
Later that afternoon, I sat waiting for Jen to arrive home from work. I
had finally pled illness and left work early, I simply couldn't focus any
more. When she finally arrived she saw me sitting on the couch and
immediately sensed something was wrong.
"It *is* your hand Jen! It is! Look, closely! Yes, it is proportionally
different, but look at the shape of the fingers and particularly the
thumb. And the clincher, this beauty mark - it's in the exact same spot as
yours. I don't know how it is possible, but it is!" I nearly screamed.
Her earlier look of skepticism was slowly being replaced with one of
confusion and doubt. Then suddenly with hard resolve. "John, it isn't my
hand because it *can't* be. I have both my hands." She said holding her
hands out to me to emphasize her point. "It's just a coincidence, nothing
more." And with that, the conversation was over.
--3--
It had been about three weeks since my latest change and I was finally
becoming accustomed to the fact that my hand was different. I was slowly
learning not to question my new reality, it only made things more
difficult and there didn't appear to be anything I could do to influence
it.
It was Sunday morning and the sun was beginning to peek through the
windows. Feeling a little frisky, I reached over to stroke Jen's hair
hoping to elicit a morning bout of lovemaking. Lying on my back, stroking
her hair with my hand, I again noticed a sense of wrongness that I
couldn't quite place or what had triggered it.
Then it came to me. I was stroking Jen with my right hand - since the
morning I had awoken with the transplanted hand, I enjoyed a limited sense
of touch in that hand. But now, I could clearly feel the silky texture of
her hair!
I was elated! And though I could no more explain why my hand had returned
to normal any more than my previous two metamorphoses, I was no less
thrilled! Anxious to see my old friend, I quickly brought both my hands
into view to enjoy the symmetry.
And then I faltered. I blinked rapidly to make sure I wasn't dreaming,
then looked closely again. Yes indeed, my hands were again symmetrical
and definitely a matching pair. The problem this time is that they were
now *both* soft and hairless. I had a *pair* of feminine hands now - and I
knew beyond a doubt whose they were.
Shaking Jen awake, I began frantically trying to convince her that my
latest changes were not coincidence. "You can't deny it this time Jen;
there is no doubt that these are identical copies of your arms and hands!"
A look of confusion masked her still sleep swollen face. "John, we've had
this discussion before, what would I deny?"
"I'm sorry this happened, truly, but you know what they said about Regen
[1] being an accidental compound that is still being investigated. They
don't know what the long term effects are and don't want to risk anything
more until they understand it better. You know all this." She said
sounding a bit agitated.
*****
The first order of business I had was to remove that damn red nail polish
I was again wearing for some reason. This whole situation was just somehow
wrong - beyond the obvious situation of having a duplicate copy of my wife
arms attached to me. I just couldn't figure out why I would have the long
fingernails and same color nail polish that I was wearing in my previous
transformation. It was just something else that simply didn't make sense.
Examining my slender new arms, a pattern to my changes seemed to be
emerging. Even though it had been three weeks between my last two changes,
the changes only seemed to occur on Friday or Saturday nights. And the
last two changes seemed to involve Jen for some reason. I still couldn't
make sense of everything, these were simply more pieces of a complicated
puzzle.
After removing the nail polish with some of Jen's nail polish remover I
found in the bathroom, I began to trim back the long fingernails I was
growing so that I felt more comfortable. Once I had completed this task, I
began to do some online research and found an amazing amount of data. My
particular case was documented in several news reports as well as online
medical journals.
Apparently I was heralded as a hero and a freak all at the same time.
Pharmacorp had experienced a huge explosion which caused a shockwave to be
felt around the city. The shockwave did massive destruction to many
buildings and automobiles. From what I could tell from the article, Jen
and I had been driving (a destination was not provided) when a piece of
flaming debris struck our vehicle causing me to lose control, resulting in
a fiery crash. "What's up with these car accidents?" I muttered out loud.
My recognition of heroism was that despite massive injuries, I had pulled
my even more seriously injured wife from the burning vehicle suffering
severe burns on both my arms. Jen had also been severely burned over most
of her body - it was the Regen that had saved our both our lives.
The Regen had regenerated Jen's tissue from the ground up erasing any sign
of injury. The theory with my injury went that a bleeding injury on Jen
had transmitted her DNA to my seriously burnt arms. Add a bit of
transformed Regen, and voila - two arms regenerated using my wife's DNA.
Case closed.
Except that before last night, none of this had ever happened. But the
newspaper articles were at least a month old. It was all too impossible.
It made my head hurt to think about it.
--4--
My bladder was punishing me with a deep slow ache that I could no longer
deny. It was another Saturday morning; I had come to dread them now. It
had been less than a week since my last change, so I was hoping I was
safe, at least for a little while longer. Despite my hopes, as I slowly
came awake, I tried to mentally prepare myself for what may be different
now.
As I began opening my eyes, I knew immediately something was amiss. Last
night I had gone to bed in the master bedroom, and this morning, I had
awoken in the guest bedroom. Since I had no history of sleep walking, I
had to assume that yet another reality shift had occurred. But what had
changed that would cause me to wake up here?
It only took a moment to have my question answered, as I sat up and looked
down, I was yet again shaken to my foundation. What had I done to deserve
this cruel fate?
Looking toward the ceiling I cried out, "How can this be happening?" But
no one cared to respond...
To be continued...
**********
[1] See Survivor by Island Riter: Regen is a compound referred to in this
story that in its altered state allowed regeneration of body parts from
dissimilar DNA.
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