Part 2 The Myra Chronicles
- 3 years ago
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The Secret Mind Of Myra Part 1: An Introduction free porn video
Note by the Author (The Sleepy Fairy): This is here to warn you that the
story can get very confusing not just because of my own crappy
experience at writing, but also because the store plot is can seem very
complex, although you won't see too much of it here in the first part.
Another reason is because this is literally a story within another
larger story which you won't see here on the site, as it only passively
uses TG elements, so some plot points will be left open. In fact, this
whole story is basically an advanced epilogue to my first complete
story, but is only told in a gradual way. Anyway, this may or may not be
the final version of the story, but I'm here to present it to you for a
review so I can further change it for the better, so please do so! I
hope you have fun reading my first story here. :)
I woke up, desperately gasping for air. I clung onto my chest where my
heart was; it was beating rapidly, almost like I was having a heart
attack. I let myself calm down by forcing myself to breath slower. I
could finally think after a full minute of breathing hard. I suddenly
realized that my chest was bulging more than it should have been. I
didn't care about that at the moment though. I just wanted to close my
eyes and hug my pillow tightly for a while. It was too hard to bear that
nightmare ending, even after all this time. I then noticed that my legs
could wrap around the pillow too. I was too big for my arms and legs to
wrap around the pillow at the same time, as my torso stretched them too
far away, but here I was doing it. So I was smaller too. I couldn't feel
a bulge down under either, so that was missing too... I suddenly thought
this was good; my turning into a girl was giving me something to think
about besides my nightmare ending.
I sighed slightly and turned my face into that of a tired indifference
to the outside world. I guess this face of mine was the signature to the
world that showed that I was me no matter what I looked like, at least,
at this time. Most people that interacted with me in anyway thought I
was just depressed all the time because of my face and the lack of
talking that I did. In many ways, they were right.
Enough of all this random info though. It is best to just tell about
myself than to gradually show it, at least some of it.... I have been a
regular student in his first year of a regular high school for the last
several months. Well, I'm not regular anymore, since I just turned into
a girl; and also that I'm a foster child. Can't forget that too.... But
I often do somehow.... I'm the type of kid that is picked on by bullies
all the time with no one to go to for any real comfort or support. No
friends.... No parents.... No one.... I can only imagine what the
bullies are going to do to me now as the little wimpy girl they
frequently described me as, but I don't want to know right now.
I should shower and get dressed for now, but I keep looking at my body
as I sat down on my bed, not in the sexual way though or even out of
curiosity, it's just that it reminds me of something. I forced myself to
get up. I take a shower and look at myself again as I wash my body with
a washcloth. I'm much smoother and smaller, my caretakers will surely
notice I'm a girl now right? What will happen then? Will I be taken out
of school? Out of my home here? Well whatever.... Whatever happens will
happen. I can't hide this forever anyway, so why make the effort? I
gradually learn of my new body. My face is smaller, my butt is rounder,
and my arms and legs are thinner, except maybe my hips, but I never
examined myself there when I was a guy. My light brown hair has a
bedhead like always though even after I shampooed it, but it's slightly
longer now, going down my neck. I get out and dry up, and then I dress
up normally as I always would, not even bothering to further examine my
new sexual assets. My dress style was like a toned-down version of a
street punk or urban kid; maybe that was one of the reasons why I get
picked on, because those jerks think I'm trying to be cool. I look at
myself in the mirror one last time as I finish dressing. I surprising
still look like a boy, just smaller, at least to myself. I still have
that same sleepy depressed look on my face too. My beanie does look a
bit cuter on me now though, and my chest is sticking out of my shirt a
little bit. That could be trouble. Maybe I should wear a sweater to
cover it? No, now I sound like I intentionally want to cover it. I
shouldn't, right? Whatever, I just want to get done with today.
I go down the stairs to find the rest of my "family" which is all make-
shift. They surprisingly act like one though. My "parents" are laughing
with one of my "brothers", while two of my other "siblings" are fighting
over who gets the last pancake. I'm the odd one out though. It's my own
fault I guess though; I never speak except when I really and truly need
to. I start to get myself some cereal, as I woke late today. My parents
have a policy to only make breakfast to anyone that wakes up on time.
It's a good motivator, but I just happened to stay in too long this
time, but I'm usually on time. I eat some sugar-filled flakes then start
to get ready for school; it seems no one notices me enough to look if
I'd changed genders. Whatever. Backpack, check... Homework, check...
Lunch, check... It looks like I'm ready. I go to the front door and
start to open it. All of a sudden one of my older sister calls out to
me, searching for me, which is rare; no one usually talks to me in kind.
She stops suddenly and looks at me; she has a shocked look on her face.
I guess this is where the panic begins.
"Wha... what happened to you?!" she said. I stay silent and just waited
for her to go. She eventually goes into the dinning room, and comes back
out with our parents. "Dad" says, "Okay, okay, what's going o-". He
stops mid-sentence and looks me over, also shocked, along with "mom". It
seems schools canceled for me today; I hope I don't have to make up too
much work later.
It's one week later, and my parents are still confused, not just at the
gender change, but more importantly at my reaction to it all. They and
anyone else would think that the two most logical reactions would be one
of much angsty drama or pure joy along with playing with your new found
toys..... I'm sure there are other reactions that would be less extreme,
but my own reaction seems totally out of the question to them. Total
indifference, with my standard "Whatever" thoughts and utter silence to
everyone.... Right, that's me alright. Besides that, they have been
making government and school phone calls back and forth for several
days, along with the doctors to see if there are any reasons or cures to
my situation. There was no explanation given at all however, and the
only result of those calls was that the media eventually found out.
Great... It didn't matter much to me, but it would be annoying to avoid
them and all the hype that went along with it.
I watched the news on my own story, "Foster child turned into girl".
They knew next to nothing but managed to talk about it for more than an
hour along with several other news stations stating the same rehashed
things. They talked about the ordeals I might face and all the drama
that could happen. Despite next to knowing nothing about me, they
somehow got my photos of before and after, which amazed me as I had
stayed inside the house the whole time with the windows closed except
before when I went to the doctor. One of my siblings must have taken and
snuck a photo to them of how I currently looked. The stations also got a
lot of my personal info, which luckily didn't matter much, as I was as
ordinary as a foster person could get.
Its now two weeks later and the hype has died down a bit. It turns out
that I had to change my birth certificate, along with my name. I chose
to re-name myself "Myka" for seemingly no reason, at least to my
parents. Aside from than, I'm now eligible to go to school as a girl
now, complete with going to the lockers and restroom. I can only imagine
what all the other students would think about this, but I usually don't
bother. Whatever they think is whatever they think, right?
This time I'm out the front door without interruptions, and to my
surprise, no cameras or media people. I take the bus, so I waited at the
bus stop until it came. The bus driver didn't seem to care or know a
thing of what happened, and luckily I was also the first to board, so no
one was there except me. I chose to go to the very end where it was a
tradition to where rejects go. As more students were picked up, the more
the bus was filled, but no one seemed to see me. I actually ended up too
short for people to see my head anymore, which was a small blessing to
me, but it also reminded me how much shorter I really was. I was already
short as a guy, now I was almost at 6th grade standards. The other
rejects of the bus though seemed to completely avoid me, which was also
normal, but this time they seemed to do it on purpose, not one person
was in any seat even close to around me, which was strange to me. They
avoided me sure, but in the past they didn't actively try to, it's just
that I never talked. It was almost as if they were afraid of me.
Whatever. And I got off.
Ahh, school.... A dread for many, and blessing to a few, and another
indifference for me, except this time I got looks by everyone at least
once. A few whispered among themselves and a few girls even seem
insulted that I was the same gender as them. However, everyone tried to
actively avoid me. Maybe there was a rumor that I had a transmittable
disease that would change them too? Who knows? Definitely not me
anyway.... My first class back to school was unfortunately P.E...
Whoever said that this class should be viable at 8 o'clock in the
morning should be thrust into the sun by a giant slingshot. I'm kidding,
but the coldness is one of the things that irks me more than anything,
especially since its January. I like breezes and all that, but this is
just insane to me. And now I have to do it with even shorter shorts,
which seems totally stupid to me. They say we can't even use sweats, but
I said screw it. I got one detention after another in the first weeks of
school for consistently wearing them, but they eventually just stopped
giving them to me, considering I already stare off into space with most
of my time anyway, so I actually treasured detention. It even gave me a
place to study without interruption.
The worst thing for me now though was getting to dress up in those
sweats, or anything for that matter. I was going into unknown territory
with unknown reactions. I went into the girl's locker room. It smelt
like an overused perfume factory; way, way too strong. My first thoughts
were to just get out as fast as possible, but I had to install a new
lock on my new locker at the other end of the room... Very annoying...
But before I could even step further in, some girls had already grouped
together to wall me off. "What are you doing here?!" one girl said.
"Just go to the other side. You don't belong here" another girl said.
She was more modest in her wording, but none of the girls facing me
seemed to feel very comfortable with letting some person with the
possible mind of a man coming into their exclusive area. Another few
remarks and I knew I wasn't wanted at all. If there were any girls that
didn't actually mind, they didn't show themselves. As always, with my
silent mouth, I never said a word back to them. I simply hung my head a
bit lower and went back out into the very frosty air outside. I was
shivering by this point.
I decided to just go to the boy's side. It was a stupid thing to do, but
I couldn't really dress out in the open. Before I could even step a foot
in, a P.E. coach blocked me off, "I'm sorry missy, but the new rules
state that you are now recognized as female, and must abide by student
female conduct including dress code and going into proper facilities. I
know you'd might like familiar ground, but it would cause a ruckus with
the boys. We can't jeopardize your safety or promote harassment inside
here." I immediately thought of the bullies that harassed me severely
over the past few months, but I knew it wasn't his fault. Besides, his
speech made sense. No one was purposely putting me in a hard situation,
it's just that it happened to become this way naturally.
My first hard situation and I hadn't even gotten into a class. What
should I do? If I forced myself in the girl's side, I'm sure they'd
harass me later on. I had no choice though. I decided to not go to my
locker, but still dress inside near the entrance. The girls could still
see me, but at least they could know that I was trying not to go near
them. Hopefully they'd understand.
I just realized as I was about to pull out my shirt that I had forgotten
to wear a bra. I hated them and considered them unnecessary when I was
at home all day for the last two weeks. Mom tried to force me to wear
them and get used to them, but I was adamant in my stance against them.
Besides, my breasts were developing from the top-down and were fairly
small still compared to the meat-loaded hormone induced breasts of a lot
of the other girls, making its weight balanced and not at all sagging.
The purpose of bras was to stop that and provoke support, but I didn't
need any of that, so I saw no purpose.
Well, now I saw its purpose here, to not be naked.... I also realized
that I'd still be braless in the cold, in P.E., where we eventually
sweat... Wow, how dumb could I get?! I don't want to think of how
everyone's view me would be after.... I put my front to the wall so no
one could see except those adjacent to me and I also covered my chest
with one arm. I quickly switched shirts. I just ignored looking to see
if anyone saw that I didn't have a bra strap. If they saw me, than they
saw me... Next was putting on my sweat pants. It wasn't as embarrassing,
but I still habitually had my boxer shorts on, which would look weird to
the rest of the panty wearing girls. Well, some did have those "short-
short" boxers, but those didn't seem right for me to wear personally....
Why the heck am I thinking about all this? Who cares about any of this
stuff? Just wear what I want to wear. I don't need to compare what they
wear to my tastes. Maybe my mind is changing more into a girl's....
I.... I need to stop for a while. Something's not right. I usually don't
think like this. Stuff like this shouldn't affect me. My mind is
supposed to wonder into other topics. Topics I consider to be much more
valuable than any result of what I wear at the very least.... It's not
that I'm thinking more like a women that's troubling me, it's more that
I'm thinking more like a normal person, or at least like a normal
teenager. Like a person that cares about what people think of himself or
herself and what he or she does.... That isn't like me at all. I'm not
supposed to care what other people think of me and what I do. It's not
that I don't care about anything; it's just that what I care about isn't
tangible to the world I live in right now. If I'm changing in that way,
then it does matter to me; I can't say "whatever" to that.
But I can't think of this right now, I have a class to go to. I don't
want to start more of a ruckus for me being absent to my first class
back to school. So I went to class. It was definitely cold, but everyone
eventually worked up a sweat. I tried to hide my "forgetfulness" by
doing the least amount of effort allowable, so I wouldn't work that much
of a sweat. Fortunately, my chest didn't stick out as much as I thought
it would. However, people did stare. I told myself not to care though;
it just doesn't fit in my nature. After fifty minutes of running around
and being forced to play basketball, class was over. I walked faster
than everyone to the locker room so I'd be the first one in to change
and finally finish putting my lock on. It worked, but I still got some
looks when I was going out.
Finally.... I feel like a weight has been lifted off my mind and
chest.... I breathed in and out, trying to control my heart rate so I
could relax. I still had about seven minutes to get to my next class, so
I chose to sit down on one of the ledges. I felt truly depressed now
though. I just wanted to get back to doing and thinking what I used to.
I wanted to think about my nightmare from when I first woke up as a
girl. It was something, a secret I would never tell anyone here, but I
didn't really like to think about it at all at the same time. But I had
to or I wouldn't be me anymore. It had nothing to do directly with my
transformation into a girl, but I'm sure it is connected in some way. I
thought about certain aspects of that nightmare and started to feel like
my normal tired indifferent self, although more depressed now with my
head hung lower and my eyes less active. This is good though. This is
what I want to be, not the normal person that is supposed to react to
all this drama in a more dramatic way.
I got up and started walking to my next class in almost a subconscious
state now. My mind was now solely thinking of that nightmare, as if it
could comfort me with its fear; it's true in a way, but that's too
poetic for me. As I walked, I started to slow down more and more,
getting more like how I used to be, ever more distance from the physical
world.
Someone called my name in the distance, not in my nightmare though; this
one was just coming from far away. I didn't turn my head to see who it
was though, but I knew that arrogant voice and I had no desire to
interact with any of those jerks, which were the people that bullied me
as guy for the last several months ever since the start of high school.
In fact they weren't even on my mind at the moment. I simply ignored his
and their existences, even from my own consciousness. I was still in my
subconscious state, still analyzing my "nightmare", shutting down
everything else around me so that I could be in it solely. But he would
have none of that.
He and his gang walked briskly toward me, arrogantly as ever with a smug
smile on his face. "Haha, so it's true! You really are just a little
girl! Who knew you were really that much of a wimp!" He started talking
to his buddies, "Look, he's as depressed as ever, all emo and shit." It
was clear that he was trying to get my attention like always. That was
what always got to him; I would never acknowledge his presence or what
he was doing to me. The truth was I didn't even know his name after all
this time and after all of what he had done to me; that was how much I
didn't care and how much I ignored him as I was walking with my back to
him. He grabbed hard onto my shoulder, "Hey, are you listening to me you
little bitch?!"
I turned my face toward him a bit and finally stared at him. I was
thinking, "Fine, this is what you want, my attention, right?" In a
moment of surprise, he jumped away from me a bit and took his hand off
me. I didn't understand why he did that. Maybe it was because this was
the first time I acknowledged him. He just stood there. The rest of his
gang did the same, as if they were amazed at something I was doing. I
didn't get it. Was there a teacher behind me? Was fire coming out of my
eyes from my inner nightmare? But no one was here but me and there
certainly wasn't any fire really coming out of my eyes.... That was just
a bad joke. Whatever. If they had nothing to say, then I was out of here
and back to thinking about my nightmare. I started walking again to my
next class.
I started thinking of my nightmare again. It wasn't really a nightmare
though, but that word is the best way I could describe it. It's more of
a past experience I have, no... More like another world I lived in, out
of this real world, but at the same time, it is also of this world. In
that "other world", I got hurt a lot, but also became loved. In this
world here, I have no one to truly relate to or be loved by. I'm too
different. Not different in the "special" sort of way, but just that
what I liked and what I did didn't match what people expected of me. My
thoughts didn't match the rest of the world's ideas about how everything
should be. I even questioned myself. In many ways, I just didn't know
what to think or do, both for myself and to others around me. I guess
that's the reason why I'm so indifferent, because I don't know what to
do with my life or the life of others.
I reached my second class, which was English. I was indifferent about
that subject too. I simply did my homework and class work and that was
it. No groaning on how boring it was or internal dialogue saying how
great of a writer I could be. I simply did it, maybe got a C+ or a B-
and that was it. I went to the very back where no one looked, which was
where my seat was. When the class filled up, people started to look at
me again. I didn't notice though, I was still in my own little world in
my mind. People started to talk about me while we were doing our class
work. The teacher was pretty lax in his rules, so he let everyone talk
about their own things, and so they did, quite loudly in fact. I
finished my work and just put my head in my arms like a pillow, then
tried to go to sleep on my desk.
My ears could hear what people were saying about me now though and it
kept me awake. Everyone was curious about me and kept on talking about
what they heard on tv about it. It looks like I brought a lot more money
to the news networks than I at first thought. What really surprised me
though was what the people far away from me were saying. They must have
thought I couldn't hear them. One guy said, "Damn he sure turned out
cute though!" Another guy said back, "Yeah, why don't you ask her out
then? Ha-ha!" "N-No, way! It'd be way too awkward! Besides, she's way
out of my league, man...."
I was shocked. How...how was I cute?! Was that why those bullies reacted
the way they did? No way.... Why? I thought I looked a little cuter in
the mirror, sure, but it was nothing to gloat over. I still had my
bedhead (although I covered that with my beanie so I wouldn't have to
comb it). I still had my old urban appeal as a guy which was very un-
girly. And I still had that indifferent look on my face, nothing that
would make a person blush, I would think. Besides, I was too small to be
considered sexy, and my chest was too small, right? I should know, I was
a guy, right? But then again, I didn't care much for sex or having a
romantic partner. I wasn't asexual at all though, but it just wasn't who
I am, so I never really cared how hot a woman was, even when I was a
guy. I still felt and understood a man's instinctual urges though (when
I was a guy), and I would have thought that I looked rather bland as a
girl. It just didn't make sense to me. No, no, no, no.....
I shouldn't be thinking like this. I should be thinking about my other
world, my nightmare, my dream in my mind. Who cares if I'm cute or not
to others? Why does it matter? I don't want a partner anyway. I just...
I just want.... I blanked out for a moment. My indifference tells me I
don't know what I want, but I know that's not the truth. I....I just...I
just want....I just want a friend again. I feel ashamed to admit that,
like I don't deserve it. What about my foster family? Those make-shift
brothers and sisters, and make-shift parents; didn't I have a chance
with them? They loved each other just like any family would and yet I
never talked to them or gave them a chance to interact with me. But no,
I know the truth. I know why I don't go to them; I'm afraid of them,
afraid of everyone. I'm afraid of becoming friends with anyone. I'm
afraid it will become like my nightmare again, where everyone will
disappear and become like it never happened. I fear that ending so badly
that other people's phobias pale in comparison and it makes me almost
have a heart attack like how I was when I first woke up as a girl. To
me, it's the same thing as dying if that ending happened again. So I
don't talk, or show much emotion, or even try to make friends.
Enough.... Enough of these thoughts. The bell rang just as I say that. I
should be getting to my next class.... The rest of the school day
becomes the same. I heard a few more things, like a few girls getting
jealous of me, which I laughed a little inside at the thought of that
actually happening. I also didn't see anymore of my abusers. Other than
that though, school was the same. It ended with a final ring; I got on
the bus, and finally arrived home. I went to my room, fell on my bed and
looked at the ceiling.
So this is my existence. This is what will happen every day if I just
stay the way I am now. Did my being a girl really change anything? A
bit, yes, but it was largely the same. Although it would be harder if I
wanted a friend now, as I'm sure that a lot more guys would want me as a
partner or possession more than as a friend that would love me. I'm sure
a lot of girls wouldn't get me either since I still largely think like a
guy (at least I think). Nothing had really changed in my mind except
that I would momentarily get concerned about what other people thought
of me, and really both genders did that, especially as a teenager. And
anyway, I didn't like to think like that.
I started to think of my identity. Am I supposed to be a girl or a guy
in my soul? No, I really don't identify with either, I just happened to
be born as a guy, but I'm sure there wouldn't be much difference with me
personally if I was born as a girl and had just become a guy right
now... I looked at my hand, it looked so small and smooth and fragile,
and most importantly to me, not holding another hand. Would I stay like
this forever, not as a girl, but as a person alone in the world that is
indifferent to everything? I can't say "whatever" to that, because it
does matter to me, but I do anyway and I start to go to sleep while I
hug my pillow tightly with my whole body. I'll try to answer that
question later.
Fay
- 03.10.2022
- 14
- 0
Part 3 The Myra Chronicles
- 4 years ago
- 32
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Setting the Trap Part One of the Myra Series
- 3 years ago
- 25
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