Sunnydayzwithu
- 3 years ago
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Q DAY free porn video
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Q DAY ~ by laika pupkino
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I woke up. It was January 1st, a little after six in the morning. A new
year. Whoop de doo...
I hadn't stayed up with my folks to see the new year in. We were pretty
mad at each other, and I wasn't in any mood to watch the official arrival
of 2016 broadcasted live from Times Square. I'd figured that it would
manage to get here without my help, and had gone to bed even earlier than
I normally did.
I'll spare you the long version of why I was miserable, another MtF
transgender kid coming to that point in life where she's feeling
desperate about her "self" not matching the sex she was physically or the
male role she was expected to play in life. A feeling like something in
her brain or soul was about to give way...
And yeah I'd told my parents. It hadn't gone well. They had refused to
hear another word about it, and I'd refused to be silenced on the subject
of what was the biggest source of unhappiness in my life. I'd tried and
tried to make them see what this meant to me, but I wasn't getting
anywhere with that.
And since they'd always prided themselves in never being physically
abusive---only psychologically---their solution to my stubbornness on
this had been first to withhold my allowance, and when that didn't faze
me I was grounded for the whole Christmas break. Like I had done
something wrong- BARBARIANS!!!! (Although I would come to forgive them
for this, and fairly soon...)
So this morning I was in the second day of my hunger strike, and it
looked to me like they were starting to bend. Like gee, maybe this was
something serious to me, and not some weird way that I'd chosen to act
out. Although I sure was hungry. I wished I had one of those "The Works"
omelets they made down at the IHOP; and a side of hash browns, only
cooked more thoroughly than that white greasy glop they served. Maybe
some onions mixed in-
And suddenly there it was on the desk next to my computer. Just like I'd
imagined it.
"And some good OJ," I added, causing a glass of fresh squeezed orange
juice to appear. I didn't think one whole day of fasting was enough to
make me start hallucinating, and it all tasted real enough when I tried
it.
I had shoveled down about three bites when I thought, "HEY, WAIT A
MINUTE!" -and turned myself into a girl. Like me, but a little shorter
and a lot cuter. The me I'd always imagined...
This was crazy, but I wasn't complaining. I gave myself a nice nightgown,
and some fuzzy pink slippers because the floor was cold, and then a whole
wardrobe in my closet I would look at in a minute, right now I was busy
eating (just one more bite here!) and checking myself out in my new floor
length mirror. So obviously I was still dreaming, but damn, these eggs
and all the goodies imbedded in them sure tasted real.
Replacing whatever was in there, I filled my whole bedroom dresser with
spending money, several million in twenties. It was a good thing too,
because my family would wind up needing it after the inflation caused by
all the other people doing this plunged the global economy into a
recession, but I'm getting ahead of my story here.
When I heard my mom screaming in the bathroom I went running in there,
forgetting all about how I'd changed myself. She was blonde, and gawking
at herself in the mirror.
"Mom! Are you okay?!"
"I don't know," she said, sounding stunned. "I was just thinking about
changing my hair and I-"
Then she saw me. "Oh dear..... You too?"
"Yeah, Mom. And that's not all, look!" I said, and suddenly there was a
big bouquet of flowers in my hand. Roses, her favorite, in all the shades
they come in and a few they don't. I handed them to her, grinning,
"Apparently it's anything we want. I just wished up a really nice
breakfast, and there it was. A person could go totally nuts with this!"
She smelled them. "Oh Jimmy, thank you. But we can't have this! We
can't!"
Suddenly I was a boy again.
"Mom! What are you DOING?" I yelled, and turned myself back.
"No, Honey. You're not a girl!" she said, and ~*POOF!!!*~ I was Jimmy
again.
"Am too! And I told you my name's Jamie," I hollered, turning myself back
again. Then I made another wish.
"But your father will have a fit if he sees you like this," she said, and
tried to change me back. A confused look came over her face. "What did
you do?"
"I wished that no one could turn me back into a boy, ever again," I
grinned. GOTCHA!
"So this what you really want, huh? I don't understand, but I guess
there's worse things you could turn yourself into. Like those crazy
'furry' people I saw on Montel William," she said, when suddenly she
looked very scared, her eyes opening wide.
"What's wrong?" I asked, but then I saw what it was. Her tits were
growing. In another second they were Dolly Parton size, and still
growing!
"Jimmy, stop that!" she screamed. "I told you you could stay a girl....
STOP!"
"It's not me, Mom! Just wish them back!"
"Oh, right," she said, and did. "But if it wasn't you, what did that?"
We both flashed on who the culprit had to be at the same time. She
marched out of the bathroom. "Come on, Jim- Uh, Jamie. I always knew he
had this little ...... predilection; But he always says I'm perfect just
the way I am. I guess what he says and what he fantasizes..."
I nodded. "Two different things."
Out in the living room my father was sprinkling salt onto one of his low
sodium tortilla chips as he watched one of those talky sports shows that
start hours before the actual game. The Rose Bowl in this case.
He sort of turned in our direction but must not have really seen me,
"Morning you two. Hey Patti, as long as you're up could one of you go get
me a beer?"
Mom and I looked at each other and grinned. She said in this theatrical
and sweetly subservient voice that wasn't her at all. "I am the genie of
the lamp! What brand of beer doest thou wish for, oh my Master?"
"A genie? Okay, whatever.... Coors, since that's what's in there, but
what I really wish I had was- WHOAH, SHIT!" he yelled as an ice cold
Negra Modelo appeared in his hand. Startled, he dropped it, and it rolled
across the rug spewing out yellow beer and white foam.
Then he saw the bottle and the stripe of dampness it had left on the
carpet disappear like they'd never been there as I cleaned up his mess.
It must have been Mom who put the new one in his hand, which he managed
to not drop, but gulped at like he really needed some alcohol right now.
He turned to us. "Uh, what's going on here?"
"I'm not terribly sure," said my mom, "But there's somebody I'd like you
to meet. James, this is your daughter Jamie..."
"Hi," I said, feeling very shy. I really didn't want him to hate me for
this.
"Okay, what's the gag? Is that supposed to be Jimmy?" he asked.
Apparently the magic beer trick hadn't convinced him of how strange
reality had suddenly become.
"But it is me! Everything's turned, like.... magic!"
He stared at me; probably thinking that whoever this girl was, she did
sort of look like his son.
In the past hour my new breast had given my brain a lot of new sensations
to process, most of which I was very happy with. But suddenly they felt a
little heavier, and now a lot heavier. I looked down-
"Ewwwwww! Daddy!" I cried, and changed these insanely massive boobs I'd
sprouted back to ones that seemed normal on a human girl.
Mom looked at him like he was a pile of vomit. "Oh ghod, James! What the
hell are you doing?"
"I don't know," my father protested, "I don't even know what happened!"
"How could you?!" screamed Mom. "She's your DAUGHTER!!"
"No, Patti, listen! I didn't... I would never act on something like that, I
mean a girl that age; I was just- I swear! Just a thought. Like a man has
sometimes. I mean he sees a cute girl like this; and I never had a
daughter, and I wasn't thinking 'daughter', or about who this was; I'm
not like that! Believe me, I would never- I mean, I just-"
It was awfully creepy to find yourself suddenly turned into some kind of
pornographic cartoon woman by your own father. I shuddered and hugged
myself, "Daddy, that's just sick!"
I'd seen him do this before, trying to deflect the blame when he was
caught doing something wrong, but this was the worst, hitting me where I
was most vulnerable: "I'M SICK?! Well what the hell are you doing turning
yourself into a girl anyway?!"
"I've been telling you about that all week! Maybe if you ever listened to
me you'd know why!"
"Come on, Jamie," Mom said. And I followed, not knowing where we were
going but glad to be getting out of there.
"No wait, Stop!" Dad begged, and suddenly there were jailhouse bars
across the room's entryway. He stammered, "We need to just- to just talk
about this, PLEASE! This is all so crazy!"
"And this is how you 'talk', holding someone prisoner?" she spat,
pointing accusingly at the bars blocking our exit, then blasted them away
like some pissed off witch in a movie. As we stepped through the jagged
smoking portal she told him coldly, "We'll call you..."
We would wind up forgiving him, especially after what he did next. Even
really decent people occasionally have some weird and not very nice
impulse, something that's only temporarily a tiny, tiny part of the whole
"them", and that they would never act on. It was this magic that was
turning these fleeting thoughts---terrible beasties from the secret back
rooms of that "id" thing they say is a part of each and every one of us--
-into reality.
Which was exactly what the Zirconians were counting on...
"I'm sorry, so sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me," he whimpered,
and then groaned, "Oh God, I wish I was never born!"
I don't know why I was still standing there after he disappeared, since I
now didn't have any male person who had contributed to my being born---(a
classic case of that "Grandfather Paradox" the science fiction writers
talk about)---but there I still was. It's just another of the million or
so mysteries from that horrible messed up morning.
"James?!!" asked my mom, like she expected the empty chair to answer her.
Suddenly, from someplace outside came a terrible blinding white flash,
and a second later there was a booming sound that rattled but didn't
quite break all the windows in our house.
Not thinking that this was probably the last thing we should be doing,
Mom and I ran out onto the front porch, and saw the mushroom cloud
roiling up into the sky over to the west of us, about fifteen miles away.
Crabby old Mr. Jervis down the block had often said he wished he had a
nuclear bomb, that if he did he'd sure show those jerks in our city
council a thing or two.
From the size of it, it didn't seem like a very big nuke, but it sure did
a number on our city's downtown. It will be safe for redevelopment in
about 97 years.
"We better go back inside," said Mom.
"Good idea," I said, and we did. I really wished we wouldn't get any
radiation poisoning.
The football show was no longer on the TV (the game was cancelled anyway
after one of the teams had been turned into giant chickens), but instead
there was a CBS Special Report about the disappearance of every
Palestinian Muslim in the Middle East. It seems that some Israeli had
wished for it before one of them could wish this about the Jewish nation.
Reports were coming in from the region, none with any explanation...
Then the camera went all cockeyed, pointing up at the ceiling as some
enemy that the cameraman had there at the studio wished him dead. Someone
else took his place, pointing the camera back at the distinguished
looking anchor...
This man had seen a lot of strange and ugly things over the course his
career, but today he was shaken enough to drop his whole professional
newscaster act and speak to us like a human being, "I don't know what's
going on here folks, but I'll tell you I'm scared. I really wish I'd
taken that early retirement. I could be on my yacht right now-"
And then his desk was empty, and everyone in the studio had fled or been
wished into oblivion, because that view of the empty desk stayed on the
screen....
My morning, which had started out so good now seemed like it was going to
be the end of the world. Mom and I were hugging, almost afraid to think
anything, like that scene in either the second or the third GHOSTBUSTERS
movie where they tried doing this to keep the monsters away, but one of
them thought of the Stay-Pufft Marshmallow Man and he showed up twenty
stories tall to wreak havoc on New York City.
And now the newscast on our TV was coming in from some other city, more
and more reports of terrible unexplainable things happening all over the
world. I wished my dad was here to hold me too---something I thought of
just in time---and now here he was, and we were all hugging and crying,
saying, "I love you," and forgiving each other.
Apparently you can forgive a lot when you're right in the middle of
Armageddon (And in all the years that would follow I never caught a whiff
of anything weird, unfatherly or wrong about his love for me, so he
really wasn't being some big incest perv when he made my boobs like
that...); And I just wished whatever was making all this happen would
just... go away!
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I don't know if I was the one who saved the world, or if somebody else
had thought this a split second before me. A lot of people were claiming
it was them. Somebody in the media dubbed this weirdest day in human
history "Q Day", after that obnoxious jerk with godlike powers who could
just wish something and make it happen, and was always showing up to
cause trouble on the different STAR TREK shows, and the name stuck.
My turning into a girl was hardly noticed in the aftermath of that
morning, because a lot of people got turned into a lot of things. When
school started again a few months later everyone said I seemed a lot
happier. My friends I told the truth to, with others I just shrugged like
I didn't know who had wished this on me but--my, my---wasn't I coping
with it well?
Mr. Jervis from down the block was a lot less quick to say mean things
about people after this. He tried to confess to his act of nuclear
terrorism, but the president had declared a jubilee pardoning anyone of
any "wishing crimes" they'd committed on that horrible morning.
His critics all said he was just protecting himself after turning his
wife into a man. Mike Obama (well, he quickly went back to his maiden
name after the divorce...) apparently had been asleep through the whole
thing, so he wasn't able to turn himself back into Michelle. Working
closely with the Farnsworth Institute, Mike became a crusader for the
rights of the involuntarily transformed...
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Twenty years later, when the emissaries from the Galactic League of
Planets showed up with an invitation for us to join, they explained what
had happened. That there were rules against any world invading another
and the League's fleet was bigger than that of any one planet or regional
alliance, big enough to put a stop to any interplanetary aggression
fairly quickly and punish whoever tried it...
But for a while there were no rules against sharing technology with a
less developed world, since "DIRECTIVE #1" had recently been repealed as
a paternalistic measure that promoted an imbalance of technology and
power in the galaxy. They'd decided it was not the business of any one
group to dictate what was the proper rate or means of technological
growth for any other, or who gave what to who. It had seemed like a good
idea at the time.
So the Zirconians who had wanted the metal in the Earth's core had simply
encircled our planet with one of the galaxy's best inventions, the
Universal Reality Editor, which makes a swell gift for any civilization.
Except that they'd conveniently removed all the safety and idiot-proofing
software from it before delivery, and "forgot" to give any of us the
instruction manual for it. (There was no real reason for their choosing
New Year's Day for this, nothing symbolic or poetic or ironic about this;
it was just happened to be the day it arrived here on after its long trip
down the galactic arm; and in fact in some parts of the world it wasn't
January First during those few crazy hours.)
The Zirconians have been strongly censured by the league and are making
restitutions to the people of our planet. I got $27,000, enough for a
down payment on a nice Durango hovercar.
A lot of people have their stories about what happened to them between 6
a.m. and 8:37 a.m. Pacific Standard Time on January One 2016. This was my
story about what happened to me on Q Day. What's yours?
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AUTHOR'S NOTE: I don't really think President Obama is gay and I wouldn't
care if he was, I was just running with the story there.
PLEASE PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE WITH SUGAR ON IT LEAVE A COMMENT.
THANK YOU!
Latisha
- 06.09.2020
- 7
- 0
