Star ChamberChapter 3 The Lease Agreement
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A New Lease - Chapter 2 - Learning To Walk Again free porn video
The bombshell I received before I passed out gave me plenty to think
about. It explained why Christine's family had been there when I woke up
the first time, why she'd started crying, it actually made a lot of
sense. They didn't believe it really wouldn't be her anymore when I woke
up.
It explained the nurse giving me that look when I'd asked about my wife.
She might not have known.
It also gave me tons of new things to worry about as well. Who was I
now? If I was in her body, that meant I was female now. If I'm a woman,
what does that mean for pretty much everything? Whose stuff do I own?
Where do I even live now? What about Liz?
Unfortunately, I didn't have enough time to resolve any of these issues
as I slept. Being unconscious from sedation is quite different from any
sleep I had experienced before. Dreamless, thoughtless, timeless. One
instant, you're pondering a million things, the next, a quarter of a day
has passed.
When I came to, Liz was laying on the couch in the room, facing away from
me. I wanted to clap loudly to startle her awake, but my wrists were
still restrained. I tried to whistle, but I still wasn't used to the new
mouth. I didn't have the energy to shout, so I just watched her play
with her phone, for a moment. I called over to her "Hey, hooker, quit
redditing" she was obviously startled, dropping her phone and spinning
around. "Hey."
"Hey" she replied. She wasn't much for words.
"So, sucks about the whole accident thing."
"Yep."
"How's your car?"
"Oh it's fine. Just had to hammer out a few dings and it was good as
new." Terrible at sarcasm.
"So I take it you've been using mine."
"Yeah, well, I kinda had to. Adam fixed the one wheel and I got a new
tire for it, so it's running pretty good now." I'd needed to fix the car
for over a year, but hadn't.
"That's good to know. How are the animals doing?" More than anyone
other than Liz, I'd missed my dogs.
"They're fine. Puppy learned how to lay down." That was awesome. We
were terrible at teaching the dogs any tricks, sit and lay down were
about as much as we'd managed with Lexi.
"Well, that's good. So listen, apparently they did some fucked up
surgery, and I'm gonna be laid up here for a while."
"Yeah, I heard something about that. You look like hell."
"Gee, thanks. You look like you just realized you're married to another
woman now." Perhaps that one bit a little too hard, because her face
kind of saddened. "Geez, don't worry too much. Leave the worrying to me,
I'm awesome at that."
"Yeah well, ya know." Needed to get the banter back. Focus on the good
stuff.
"You know how you say you lose weight in the hospital? I'm pretty sure
I've dropped over 100 pounds already."
That one got her to smile a little. "Guess your weight loss plan worked
out after all". Going from being a 6'2" tall, 315 lb. man to being a 5'
tall, less than 120 lb. woman was one hell of a workout program.
"Yeah, I guess so. Couple of unintended side effects though."
"Yep." Her voice kinda trailed off.
"Listen, they've told me I'm gonna need all kinds of rehab and stuff,
what do you know about that?"
"I don't know too much. Vicki was trying to explain it to me, but I
think you basically have to re-learn how to use every muscle you have."
"Well, I figured out the important ones, or I wouldn't be laying here
gabbing at you. Is that why they have me all tied to the bed and stuff,
or is the doctor just really into the kinky stuff?"
"Yeah, basically so you don't end up falling off the bed trying to
scratch your arm. Your head's in a halo, so you moving would be very
bad." Oh yeah, the halo thing keeping me from moving my head. My new
best friend.
"How long until they start all the rehab and stuff, maybe let me get out
of bed?"
"I think tomorrow they're going to try doing some exercises with you.
Just some basic movement."
"Okay then. What about this whole talk of me being famous after this is
all said and done?"
"Oh yeah, that's been crazy. They're talking books, movies, interviews,
the whole shebang. Doctor Johns is set to make this hospital the top
neuroscience facility in the world after this."
"Great, so is he gonna be picking up the tab for this?"
"You're funny. No, it was a UPS truck that hit us, they're covering the
costs."
"You know it. Anyway, what time is it? They don't exactly have me in
view of the clock."
"It's about 3:30"
"It's dark out though."
"AM."
"Well, that's some shit. Don't you need some rest?"
"Nah, I'm off work tomorrow, and the puppies are fine. Besides, we
haven't talked in over a week."
"A week? It feels like it's been at least a month"
"I know, right? I missed you."
"Me too."
The conversation went on for a little while longer, before my throat
started hurting. I hadn't noticed how much my voice had changed. I
didn't sound like Christine by any means, I was sending different
instructions to my throat, but I didn't sound like myself either. I
definitely sounded female, which was something I'd been trying to put out
of my mind. I had very little desire to think about what life was going
to be like once I wasn't immobilized and able to look at myself. I'd
rather look at Liz, anyway.
Liz went home, and I slept. It was the first truly peaceful sleep I'd
had that I could recall.
-
The next morning, I was woken up by the sunlight. Laying completely
immobile for days on end was making my entire body ache, itch, and I
generally felt like I stunk.
Around 7 AM, I was greeted by a team of doctors, and what I'm assuming
were interns, eager to hear about my case. I was going to be learning
how to use my arms and hands over the next week, hopefully. I was
already able to clench my hands, but I didn't have much strength in them
and couldn't make a solid fist. I had a lot of work to do, and neither I
nor the doctors were sure whether I'd be left or right handed. The best
news of the day, though, was that the halo could be adjusted and allow me
to move my head around some. I was going to have to keep it for another
several weeks, until they were confident that I wasn't going to tear my
spinal cord in two when I nodded.
I'd been keeping this a secret since it had happened, but I had to know
the why behind it, so I flat out asked the doctor. "So, why did I wake up
when you guys cut my head off?"
He was obviously kind of taken aback by my inquiry, and it took him a
minute to answer "Well, anesthesia affects everyone differently, and that
sort of trauma isn't exactly well documented in cases where the patient
is expected to live. I really regret that that happened, we had no idea.
I'm sure that must have been a terrible experience, but looking at your
medical history, it does seem you had a history of trouble with
anesthetics." He made a note in my chart, but didn't say anything
further before ushering the interns out.
About an hour later, a woman I hadn't met before came in. She was older,
but in good shape. She introduced herself as Debbie, the physical
therapist. She had a box of different little gadgets that I was supposed
to try to use to develop some coordination and strength with my new body.
She ran me through a few basic hand exercises, gripping a stress ball,
holding a pen, and trying to snap my fingers on each hand. She stayed
with me most of the morning, and by noon, she had unstrapped both of my
wrists, and I was free to hold them in front of my eyes for the first
time. They were the oddest, smallest things, being the first thing I'd
seen of myself since I'd begun this strange, new life. I almost asked
for a mirror, wanting to take it all in, but decided to wait. Seeing a
dead friend's face in the mirror wasn't exactly the good idea I needed
right now. Before Debbie left, though, she strapped my wrists back to
the bed, as it wasn't a good idea to overstimulate myself at the moment.
That afternoon, the feeding tube came out, and I was allowed to try to
feed myself for the first time. Soft foods were on the menu, which meant
Jello and ice cream. I wasn't going to complain about those, of course.
I'm still a kid at heart, how would I? I did notice that foods tasted a
little differently than they had before, I'm guessing another side effect
of the new tongue and mouth. It still tasted good, but I was going to
have to relearn everything, it seemed.
All in all, it had been an exhausting day, and when Liz got to the
hospital that evening, we had plenty to talk about. I mentioned that my
hands looked freakishly little now, we got to laugh about that. We spent
a couple hours talking, and I confessed to her about what had happened
during surgery. She was kind of hurt that I'd kept it secret, but was
understanding, for the most part. Liz was a typical redhead, and had a
short temper whenever things didn't go her way.
I desperately wanted to kiss her, to hold her in my arms again, but I
could tell that that wasn't something she wanted, at least not right now.
I was a woman now, after all, though I couldn't see myself yet, I knew
what Christine looked like, and Liz was undoubtedly straight. That was
something I should've seen coming a mile away, but it took until that
moment to realize it.
Eventually, Liz left to go home, and I slept again. It wasn't peaceful
that night at all.
The next few days were a rinse and repeat formula. Physical therapy on
my arms and hands, each day doing a little more to take care of myself,
one day I was brushing my teeth, the next I was clipping my fingernails.
I was getting used to having tiny little hands, and weak arms. Debbie
said I was making good progress, and by Friday, when they adjusted the
halo, I was able to keep my arms free.
For the first time, I was alone with a little bit of range of motion. My
legs were still restrained, but I was able to scratch the itches that had
been bothering me all week. Unfortunately, one of those itches was in an
area I was hesitant to approach. I'd mentally come to terms with the
facts of my new life, but hadn't been confronted with any real aspects of
being a woman until now. With a slow, hesitant hand, I scratched one of
my breasts.
It was rather surreal, feeling something that should not be there, yet is
still there. It wasn't sexually stimulating at all, I'd assume it's sort
of like trying to tickle yourself. It was just another itch scratched,
but in my mind, it was a massive hurdle crossed. I hadn't cried, I'd let
out a sigh of relief actually, and laughed at myself for being so
nervous. I was going to have to get used to them eventually, wasn't I?
When Liz arrived that night, it was already late. She'd worked the
closing shift, so it was almost midnight by the time she made it to the
hospital. Something was different, though, and she was smiling like I
hadn't seen her smile in years. Maybe it was the fact that I'd been able
to look at her more directly, or wave at her when she came in the door.
We talked for about an hour, but she and I were both exhausted. She did
hold my hand this time, which was the most comforting thing in the world
to me. Maybe we could make things work after all.
That weekend, I didn't have regular physical therapy, but I was allowed
free reign over the gadgets. I spent about an hour with the grippers,
while I watched cartoons on TV. I really couldn't wait until the next
week, we were supposed to be trying to rebuild some arm strength, which
is a form of exercise I always liked doing, as it allowed me to work out
while watching TV.
Liz brought my laptop that evening, and my external hard drive that had
all of my movies and TV shows on it, so I spent most of Sunday watching
Doctor Who while trying to learn to write again. I was apparently
ambidextrous now, as I couldn't write very well with either hand, but
they were both equally difficult. There were apparently a few different
types of hand strength, and I'd developed a good crushing grip, but my
others were relatively weak still. I could balance a pen equally well in
either hand, but the motion and grip between the fingers still felt
awkward and I was clumsy.
Counseling began the next week as well, they brought a trauma counselor
as well as a gender specialist, to see how I was adapting. I was honest,
told them I hadn't really given the gender issues much thought, but I
wasn't in any pain. I was sad for Christine and her family, of course,
and I didn't know how to deal with them just yet.
The next two weeks were a blur as physical therapy took up most of my
time. I had to learn literally every muscle in my body over again, but I
was a quick learner. In a month, I was walking again.
Once I was able to walk, I was able to go to the bathroom by myself.
That was an eye-opening experience. I came face-to-face with my vagina
for the first time. Well, hand-to-vagina, anyway, when I discovered that
I was going to have to get used to spending more time peeing than I was
used to. I avoided touching it as much as I could, as it still felt
awkward walking without my usual equipment, and I wasn't ready to
experiment with the new set just yet.
I met with the hospital lawyers, and discussed my legal status. Legally,
I was still Nick, as Christine's body was all considered donated tissue.
Christine's belongings were being held by her mother, I was free to ask
for any necessary items including clothing, and we discussed the status
of my marriage.
"Well, as you know, same sex marriages are illegal in Kentucky" the
lawyer began.
"Yes but if I'm legally still me, am I legally still a male?" I
interrupted. I shouldn't have done that, he looked cross.
"Well, that's part of what we're here to figure out. Your body does
obviously conform to a different gender, but the law can't force you to
change your legal status due to medical issues. For all intents and
purposes, you're being treated, legally, as a man who had been castrated.
Now, obviously, you can change that at any time. However, changing your
legal gender will dissolve your marriage."
So those were my options. Either legally remain a freak, or lose my
wife, and deal with all the fallout that would ensue. This wasn't going
to be an easy decision. The lawyer left me with a change of name form,
if I should so desire, and a few other forms I had to sign in order to
confirm my legal identity.
Liz and I had a long, but mostly silent discussion that night. A divorce
would make it easier to adjust to my new life, and it would let us sell
our house for less, with less of a ding on our credit than a foreclosure
would. In the end, I signed the forms changing my legal gender to
female, and my name to Nicole Thomas. Nicole was the name I was going to
have had if I had been born a girl, and Nicki sounded enough like Nick
that it didn't bother me nearly as much.
A week after that, they removed the halo, and I was pretty much free to
go after that.
Before I could go, however, I was forced to make a few appearances. They
didn't expect me to speak much, but there were going to be cameras, and I
needed to be dressed in more than a hospital gown. I hadn't even thought
about clothing, I'd been too worried about everything else. Adam brought
a few of Christine's clothes to the hospital, and I randomly chose a pair
of jeans and a shirt.
Underwear hadn't even occurred to me, until I started to get dressed. I
grabbed a pair of panties and a bra from the suitcase, without really
looking or thinking about it, but I struggled to get the bra on. At this
point, I'd had the body for a couple of months, but I still hadn't gotten
used to moving with it. Having such prominent breasts was definitely
detracting from my sense of normalcy, and without the hospital gown
covering me so loosely, it was hard to deny it. I checked the bra tag,
34C. Not bad, my bust was pretty much ideal. It wasn't until I'd gotten
completely dressed and brushed my hair out of my face that I finally took
a look in the mirror for the first time since the accident.
Christine was the picture of beauty. Her face...well, my face now, was
simply perfect. Not a blemish in sight, perfect skin. She'd had several
piercings, but they seemed to have healed up by now. I probably could
have worked them back in, if I'd wanted to.
I was short. I'd come to accept that I'd lost more than a foot of
height, but I realized now how much that meant. I was going to have a
hard time at home, since most of our things were in high cabinets.
Legally, I was still 30, but I'd physically gained back almost 10 years,
as Christine had just turned 22 a few weeks before the accident. I was
young, beautiful, and petite. I had the entire package now. For a
second I felt powerful, since Christine had always had that power, she
was the girl everyone stared at when she entered a room, and now I was in
her body. Then it hit me: Her body. It wasn't mine, not really. I
should have died, but she'd given me a new lease on life.
I finished straightening my clothes and hair, wiped the tears from my
eyes, and called to let them know I was ready.
Miracle
- 08.11.2020
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