MAU Painting the Town Pink Part 5 Stuck
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MAU: Painting The Town Pink -- Part 6 - Regeneration free porn video
I backed away slowly, looking in horror at Julia's shattered body. I
had unconsciously raised my hands in front of me, as though to ward off
some invisible attacker. But there was no need. I knew who had done
this.
What had just happened played over and over in my mind. One moment I'd
been looking at her in fury, wondering if she was responsible for my
transformation, enraged that she mocked me; the next something inside
me had struck out at her and she'd gone flying across the room as
though I'd hit her with a sledgehammer. No, more than that. As though
I'd hit her with a speeding car.
I'd done it, obviously. It was the fulfillment of every child's fear,
the fear that a stray thought might somehow lead to the death of a
loved one.
I'd killed her. I'd reduced her lovely body to a twisted ruin just by
thinking it. I was a murderer. Even if she had been complicit in making
me permanently female, she hardly deserved this.
She moved, one arm extending, her hand opening and closing, her legs
twitching erratically. She was alive!
I ran across the room and knelt at her side, her name rising to my lips
in a mingled cry of relief that she was still alive and horror at the
pain she must be in. And the cry stopped there, as I saw her up close.
She was most definitely dead. Her head lolled sideways, a thin trickle
of blood at the corner of her mouth. Her open eyes stared in two
slightly different directions, the totally relaxed pupils sightless and
blank. Half of her rib cage was caved in, and blood had bloomed like
roses across the Little Black Dress. The dress she had worn because she
thought I was about to turn back into a man. The dress she had worn for
me.
How could I have thought she'd done anything to me? How could I have
done this? How could I have betrayed her, smashed her, *killed her*?
I must die for this, I thought. I couldn't let my life continue another
minute after a crime like this.
She hadn't been mocking me, she had been trying to help me, to make me
feel better; had been trying to express love and tenderness as best she
could, and I had repaid her with death. A quick catalog of the most
expedient methods of killing myself ran through my mind. I knew of no
gun nearby, and besides, that was too easy. I'd find a knife in the
kitchen and open my throat.
I rose and turned from her corpse, walked slowly across the room, then
paused at the door with my hand on the knob. Now that I'd decided to
kill myself, my mind had run on to other channels, was desperately
trying to find some way to make it better, to fix it. But you don't fix
death.
You also don't kill somebody by thinking about it. The psychokinesis
had worked. What about the regeneration? Could I undo this?
There was a chance. I let go of the door handle, ran back to her. Now
that I had hope once more, I again felt the strangeness of my body, the
shorter steps, the wider hip structure, the litheness and ease of
motion.
I had to do this *now.* I had no idea how effective the MUA's
interpretation of rapid regeneration was. The psychokinesis had been
less than optimum. Every moment I waited made it less likely I'd be
able to bring her back. If it was even possible.
I dropped to my knees, dragged her away from the wall, turned her over
so she lay completely on her back. How did I do this? How could I get
my blood into her?
I felt something digging into the side of my left breast as I
straightened her neck, and almost smacked myself on the forehead. Of
course! I had forgotten to give myself shoes when I last used the MUA,
but I had given myself a breast pocket with five syringes in it.
I reached inside my pocket and pulled one out, leaving a smear of blood
on the blue blouse. They looked a lot like what our doctor used when he
drew blood, only larger. I pulled the cap off one and rolled up my
sleeve. I could remember roughly where I'd had blood drawn from before
- the upper forearm - but not the exact spot. And my arm looked quite a
bit different now than I remembered, slim and feminine, with some
muscle showing when I flexed it.
Where to put the needle? Well, if I could heal it made little
difference. And if I couldn't, I was going to commit suicide, so little
difference that way either. I gritted my teeth and stabbed the needle
into the side of my forearm.
It hurt. A lot. I started to pull the plunger on the syringe back, and
stopped. I'd tried to give myself the ability to turn off pain. And to
make that ability transfer temporarily with my blood if I had pain shut
off while I drew it.
I concentrated, and the pain stopped like I'd thrown a switch. I could
still feel the needle, jammed clumsily into my arm, but it didn't hurt.
That was a good sign. This might actually work.
I filled the hypo and pulled it out of my arm, turned back to Julia.
Where to inject her?
Center of mass seemed like the best idea. I slipped the needle into her
just under her breastbone and depressed the plunger.
Nothing happened for several long seconds. "Work, god damn it, work!" I
shouted at her.
Changes began to flow outward from the point where I injected her.
There were sounds inside her abdomen as organs healed and moved, then a
series of sharp *cracks* as her crushed ribs pushed back into place. I
saw blood suddenly begin to flow from dozens of cuts as her heart
restarted, then the bleeding stopped as damaged skin knitted back
together.
A wave of life seemed to flow over her. As it traveled up her neck into
her head, she took her first breath, a deep shuddering gasp, which
ended in violent coughing as her lungs ejected the blood which had
pooled within.
Her eyes cleared, the first faint film of death vanishing without a
trace, and the pupils contracted. She looked at me, at first blankly,
then with recognition as the healing magic progressed into her brain.
"Mike?" The word ended in a cough, and she cleared her throat before
she tried again. "What happened?"
I was crying in relief, my tears falling onto her face as I held her.
What should I tell her, I wondered? The truth.
"What's the last thing you remember, Julia?"
She struggled slightly, and I drew back so that she could sit up. She
moved without obvious impediment or pain.
"I was talking to you, suggesting new names, and then everything
suddenly went black. It was like someone shoved me or something... I
don't know why I'd faint. Must have been the excitement."
I wiped away my tears, sat back on my haunches. "You didn't faint,
Julia. I killed you. Accidently. Then I brought you back. Sorry."
She looked at me like I was crazy. "Huh? What on earth? You didn't kill
me, Mike, I just blacked out for a few -"
The blood covering her dress and skin, soaked into the carpet under her
in a soggy mass, finally registered. She jumped up suddenly, looking
wildly around the room. Her eyes stopped on the indentation in the wall
behind her, flicked back to the syringe I was still holding. Her mouth
worked.
"What - What - What the hell!?"
I stood up, feeling my bust wobble up and down in an unaccustomed
bounce. I noticed that sections of her dress were missing. That must be
where her body had absorbed surrounding inanimate matter for raw
materials as she healed. The carpet where she'd been lying also looked
a little odder than just being soaked with her blood could account for.
Sort of like it had been chewed on.
"I was trying to give myself abilities with the machine. I gave myself
limited shapeshifting to test it, and the last time in I added
regeneration. And gave psychokinesis a try to see if it'd work. I got
mad that you wanted to change my name, and it felt like something in my
head reached out and - and - I don't know how to put it. Hit you, I
guess. It killed you. Then I brought you back with the regeneration."
"You killed me!? Because I was suggesting new names? Why would you -?
How could you kill me over something like that?"
I backed away. "I didn't mean to. I didn't even think the psychokinesis
worked. I'm sorry."
"But you were angry that I was suggesting names? *Mad enough to kill
me?*"
"No! Er, not really. I mean, I don't like the idea of a new name. Just
because I've become a woman is no reason to change my name. Plenty of
women have masculine names. It just felt like you were sort of trying
to take away the last thing that made me, me, if you see what I mean. I
- it wasn't rational, I just got mad and -"
"It made you so angry you were thinking about killing me, and then this
psycho-whatsis you gave yourself kicked in and you really did? Is that
what you're saying?"
"Look." I opened the door with one hand and backed into the doorway,
raising the other hand in front of me. "I can understand why you'd be
upset."
"Upset - !"
"Yes, I can understand. I didn't really want to kill you. I just felt
like it for a few seconds. It wasn't intentional. I'll just leave for a
bit, let you calm down a little, get cleaned up. I'm sorry, okay? It
wasn't intentional. And I was able to fix it."
"Fix it - !"
I turned from the doorway and trotted down the stairs and out the front
door. Julia called my name once, but I didn't stop and she didn't
follow. Well she could hardly walk outside looking like she did now,
like an actress who had just stepped out of a horror movie. And I
wanted some time alone to figure out how to control my new abilities.
It wouldn't do to kill Julia again by accident.
I realized I had forgotten shoes again as soon as my feet hit the
sidewalk. But no matter. I didn't have to worry about my feet. They'd
heal.
I walked down the street in the warm May sunshine, looking from side to
side.
I felt good for the moment. I knew I was stuck as a woman - I couldn't
take a step without my body sending me constant reminders - but after
the tragedy which had just been averted with Julia it didn't bother me
so much. I was sure it would do so again after a while, but for now I
was just glad I was still alive, and glad the same was true of those I
loved. Even the thought of how I would get through life like this,
explain it to my family, seemed temporarily small and far away.
And it seemed I would be going through a lot of life. I *hadn't* traded
my manhood for nothing. If it had worked out the way I thought it did,
I would live forever. And not just me. Everyone I cared to give an
occasional injection to.
I raised my arm and checked the spot where I'd stuck in the needle. The
skin was flawless, without the least damage. No puncture, no bruising.
Yes, the healing worked.
And was that worth my manhood? Are you kidding? To not have to watch my
parents and everyone I ever cared for slowly grow old and die, to not
have to do the same myself? To never feel the ache of arthritic joints,
to never watch the world fade and grow dim as time slowly striped me of
everything I valued, until it finally stripped me of life itself?
That was worth my manhood, all right. And much, much more.
It was a little before noon on a Saturday. Everything looked bright and
sun-drenched, sparkling with freshness and beauty. At least part of
that was caused by the changed structure of my eyes, the increased
sensitivity to red, and possible minor changes in the other color
receptors, but I attributed most of it to the reprieve I'd just
experienced up in Julia's room. What was becoming a woman, compared to
killing someone and then bringing them back to life?
This portion of the Lakeview subdivision was newer with more expensive
houses; but didn't have as many trees as the section where I lived, and
the sun was shining full on my back as I walked past the cars parked
along the sidewalk. It didn't seem as draining as I usually found the
it, though. I felt the heat, I was sweating, but it didn't seem to
bother me much. I puzzled over it as I came to the street corner and
turned toward my house. Was is it related to the regeneration?
It came to me after I stubbed my foot on the edge of a projecting slab
of concrete. I felt my toes run into the sharp edge, bend back sharply,
even felt the skin tear slightly on a couple, but there was no pain. I
still had my pain sensations turned off, and apparently that took away
more than just sharp pains from cutting and bruising.
I concentrated and could suddenly feel the normal sensation of walking
in the hot sun. No pain from my foot, though. It had already healed.
A man came out of his half open garage, ducking under the door, and
gave me an odd glance as he walked around to the side of his house. I
looked down at myself.
Oh. Perhaps I was still a bit distracted by the business with Julia.
I'd forgotten what I looked like.
I don't mean that I was female. I mean the blood stains. I looked
passing odd, and I suspected the man would have asked me if I was
alright if my expression had been at all troubled. Perhaps he had put
my clothes down as some kind of new Stepped-out-of-the-Slaughter-House-
Goth look, or something.
I went a little further, then stepped behind a VW rabbit pickup,
glanced up and down the street to be sure no one was watching, and
examined my clothes. The pickup, now high enough for me to stand behind
without anyone seeing me, would have done a poor job of keeping me
hidden back when I'd been a man.
The stains weren't *too* bad. The ones on my blouse were the worst,
obviously blood stains. There were several on my jeans as well, but
they could be from something else, and weren't so obvious. How could I
hide the ones on my shirt? Would I have to go back to Julia's?
I narrowed my eyes at a nearby lawn. Nop, I wouldn't. I came back out
from behind the rabbit and resumed walking down the sidewalk. When I
came to a lawn with higher than normal grass I leant over and pulled up
several handfuls, then rubbed them vigorously over my shirt and pants,
staining them as much as possible. When I went over my chest, my
nipples immediately became hard at the attention. Ahh, femininity. As
an afterthought I tangled a few strands of grass into my hair.
There. The blood stains blended into the grass stains pretty well. It
should just look like I'd spilled oil on myself while mowing a lawn, or
something. As for shoes, well, I could probably get a pair from my
house. They wouldn't fit me anymore, but I could fix that with a few
socks.
I needed to be careful entering my house, I thought as I turned down
another street. I didn't want Cody or Dave to see me and get curious.
And I had more to take care of than getting shoes and clothes. My
parents had never gotten me a cell, so they would have left their check
in message on the house phone. And Dave had probably left me a message
too, wondering if I was alright after the fight with Jack, and why I
hadn't come over to his house last night like we'd arranged.
No one bothered me as I walked along, although I saw several men stare
at me in passing. I wondered if they were staring because of how I was
dressed, or because I was now an attractive woman.
Well, as long as they left me alone. The phone was my priority. I knew
I should probably be working on controlling the PK, but to be honest I
didn't want to think about that for a while after what had happened.
I'd been walking for about fifteen minutes, but I didn't feel tired. I
didn't have pain dampening on, either. The regeneration apparently took
care of fatigue.
I slowed my steps as I entered my neighborhood. My house was about four
blocks away, but I didn't want to go inside until I had an answer to
the phone problem. How could I fake my voice, or at least produce an
imitation I could explain away?
Some kind of computer software might at least make me sound male, but I
bet it would also sound synthetic.
I had to keep anyone from learning the truth as long as possible. It
was possible I still might find a way to fix the problem, and it was my
feeling that having what had happened get out too soon would close off
options I might need later. Also, it would be damned hard to convince
my parents of who I was over the phone.
Actually, I felt like there was something I wasn't seeing about the
situation. Some germ of a solution which would at least allow me to
continue my life, even if it wouldn't turn me male. Something subtle,
yet obvious. Some application of the power I now possessed...
I shook my head. It would come to me if I let it. In the meantime, how
to answer my messages?
I stopped at the beginning of my street, at the opposite end from where
I'd had the altercation with Jack and his gang, and stepped between a
large tree trunk and a thick hedge of some green plant with large shiny
leaves. From there I could survey the street and my house without fear
of being seen.
The street was mostly deserted. Old Mrs. Robinson was hobbling out to
get her mail, but I knew she would go back inside in a few minutes. The
family car was gone from in front of Dave and Cody's house, and I could
see no sign of them. They might be inside, but if so they would
probably be glued to Cody's Wii or Dave's Xbox 360, oblivious to what
went on outside. And from experience I knew how to approach my house so
that I drew as little attention as possible.
That still left my voice. How could I fake it? I looked down at my
body, brought my hands up to my breasts, touched the nipples with my
thumbs. I was certainly a woman, and I sounded it.
"Hmmm..." I said aloud. "Testing, one, two, three? Mike Cochran here."
No, there was no way I could change that voice to make it less
feminine.
Change - I looked back down at my breasts, stilled thumbs which had
begun to circle my nipples, bring a faint warmth to my groin. I had
shrunk those breasts before, changed the skin color. I could change my
form quite a bit, in fact. Could I change my voice?
I could try. I looked back up, idly watched as Mrs. Robinson moved back
up her front walk, her form passing through the deep shadows of the elm
which grew in front of her house, while I concentrated on what I wanted
to change in my throat.
"Ahem," I said softly, feeling the buzz of the shapeshifting ability at
work in my throat. "Mike here."
No, still no good. I sounded different, but not at all like a man. More
like Julia, in fact.
Enlarge the Adams apple, then. I touched my throat. More like create an
Adams apple. I didn't really have much of one anymore.
I concentrated as hard as I could, until I felt a larger bulge form
under my fingers. The buzzing sensation was changing, becoming almost
painful. Pain dampening had no effect. That feeling must signal the
limits of the shapeshifting ability.
"Mike here." Still a woman's voice, but deeper, more masculine. I
roughened it, expanded my throat as much as I could, tried to make it
sound raspy and congested. "This is Mike. Yes, I've got something, some
kind of cold. No, I'm mostly alright, it just hurts to talk."
That might work. A long as I was slick with what I said. Only part of
the distinctiveness of a person's voice is in the way they sound. The
rest is about how they talk. Of course, my mouth was shaped a good deal
different than it had been yesterday, too. Still. It *might* work.
I glanced up and down the street again, paying particular attention to
house windows, then stepped out from behind my tree. Lets do this.
I tried to look nonchalant as I walked toward my house, keeping to the
shadows and occasionally throwing an anxious glance at Cody and Dave's.
If they came out, I would just walk on past and pretend like I had
never seen them before. It wasn't that I didn't trust them with the
knowledge of what had happened to me, it was that it would be an
irreversible step towards making my transformation permanent in a
different way than physical. It would close off another option, an
option which at this moment I couldn't see any reason to keep open, but
who knew what I might think of?
And besides, I might turn them into big puddles of gore if I got
excited around them before I got the PK thing under control.
I made the front door without incident, and fished the key out from
under the stone hidden in the chrysanthemum pot beside the it. Up close
the door was larger than when I'd last seen it, or rather I was
shorter. I slipped the key into the lock and stepped into my house for
the first time - the first time as a girl at any rate.
I held my breath for a moment as I slipped the door closed behind me,
listening. The house *seemed* deserted. Cody and Dave knew about the
key, though, and I wouldn't put it past them to be waiting for me, but
all I could hear was the thundering of my heart.
I looked through the downstairs. No one. Thank god.
I glanced briefly at the answering machine as I went upstairs. Three
messages. I'd get to that after I got some shoes and new clothes.
Up in my room I pulled open my closet and selected a pair of tennis
shoes. They didn't fit, of course, but I stuffed a pair of rolled up
socks in the toes and laced them up tight and they worked well enough.
I decided to leave my jeans on. Nothing I had would even come close to
fitting.
That just left the shirt. I pulled off my blouse and stuffed it towards
the back of the closet, out of sight, then pulled out a thin long
sleeve shirt which my Mom had got me to keep the sun off in hot
weather. An afterthought made me get the blouse back out and dig the
four remaining syringes out of the pocket and slide them into the
pockets of my jeans, two to a side.
I paused a moment before putting the shirt on, looking at myself in the
closet mirror, topless but for the bra. My pretty face looked back at
me with a slight grin. There was a beautiful girl in my room! That
would get to be old news after a while, though, I realized. From now on
there would always be a beautiful girl in *any* room I was in. For as
long as I lived. Which might be a very, very long time.
Would I ever stop turning myself on when I caught a glimpse of my body?
Probably. But not for a long time, I hoped. It was a sort of
compensation for the lose of my manhood. I'd lost my cock and balls,
and gained a beautiful woman's body which would never deny me anything.
Sort of an even trade if you thought of it just on that level. Hell, I
might have gained two women, if Julia ever forgave me. Something to
think about.
I put down the shirt and brought my hands down to my crotch, rubbed the
empty space between my legs with my fingers. I could take off my jeans
and panties, explore my new sex -
The house creaked and I brought my head up, looking suspiciously over
my shoulder. No. I didn't feel safe here like this. Jack and Cody could
stop by any time to see what had happened to me. I should do what I'd
come to do and get out before I was discovered.
I pulled my shirt on over my head and closed up the closet, sparing one
last glance at my Xena collection as I went out the door. Well, I would
never have to wonder what it was like to be with a lesbian, to be a
lesbian, that was for sure. I would just have to get used to the fact
that I was all girl now, at least physically.
I certainly had no interest in men, though, unless one of them wanted
to lend me his genitals for a while. I'd been changed into a woman
before I'd ever had a chance to do more with my penis than jack off,
and it looked like I would never lose my virginity as a man now. I
would just have to make up for it by having sex with Julia in every
possible way that a woman could.
That's NOT all folks...
Elissa
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