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The Dragon Slayer By Toni Marks Copyright © 2017 Mary Robinson watched her son Tom finishing his oatmeal. She had lovingly prepared the hot cereal with raisins and brown sugar, just the way her son liked it. Tom was such a good boy, so unlike his older brother. In truth, they were only half brothers. Tom was the natural son of Ed Robinson, Mary's husband until his untimely death eighteen months ago. She and Tommy had taken it hard, but not as severely as Martin, her oldest son. She had been eighteen when she met Martin's father. He was a tall, good- looking man if a bit shy. He was a soldier in the US Army Airbourne Mountain Brigade stationed at Fort Drum in Watertown, NY. She was a high school senior. They had plans to marry, as soon as he returned from a deployment to Afganistan. He never did. Mary found herself pregnant and dependent on her family for support. Her dreams of college disappeared and were replaced by more basic needs. Martin was three years old when she met Ed Robinson. He was a short, balding thirty-year-old man who left a lot to be desired in the looks department, but was the type of person you could depend on. His goodness made her love him, and they were soon wed. Martin had always been a difficult child. He had a temper that even at three was a problem, and he had a fearless nature that led him into difficulty. Ed Robinson was a savor to his adopted son, doing everything that a father could do for a son. Even after Tommy was born, there remained a special bond between stepfather and stepson. Martin often seemed more bookish than athletic, but Ed got his stepson into sports in order to curb the boy's temper. The father channeled his son's dangerous energy into disciplined endeavors. Martin proved mediocre in almost every sport until one day at a little league game a much bigger boy tried to take a bat to Martin. The bigger kid was angered by something Martin had done or said. As the big boy advanced on him, Martin stood his ground waiting for his opening. As the boy raised the bat, Martin struck with precision, speed, and strength. Those who saw the bigger boy fall so quickly were amazed. The fight was over before it had begun, and Ed thought he had found the sport for his son. The boxing lessons went well until the first fight. Martin didn't beat his opponent; he massacred him. By the fight's end, Martin was wound up like a top, and immediately ready for the next bout. Ed realized the sport was too violent for Martin. Karate was the next try. The practice involved control; it seemed to work. Martin learned to control his emotions in a conflict, but he could not seem to control how hard he hit. To Ed, it seemed the lanky frame of his stepson contained some hidden strength. Judo was an alternative. It did not involve hitting and, therefore, hurting some unsuspecting opponent. But here too Martin could seem to injure almost without thinking. Ed hung in and kept his son going to lessons even if they did not actually let him compete. Someday he assured Martin when you are older and more in control with opponents bigger and stronger. "You will show them all what an athlete you are," said the proud little man of his tall, well-built son. No man could have been more supportive than Ed Robinson. No father could have loved his son more. As for Martin, he did not seem to care whether he had accolades as long as he had his dad with him. When with his dad, he cared not what people thought of him. He had it under control because he had his dad. Then Ed died. They said it was an embolism in the brain. One moment he was fine then a headache, and he was dead, Things turn down for the family then. Ed had been a good provider, and he had insurance but not enough. Mary had inevitably to downsize and move the family to the poor side of town. By then it was a necessity to move because of Martin. It was one fight after another. Some bigger boy--they were always bigger-- would come at him, and end up hurt and hurt bad. The school did not know what to do. "It's not that he starts it Mrs. Robinson, but he hurts the other boy so. There's not a bully in this school who is safe," the principal said. The move gave Martin a new start. "Martin time for school," Mary called up the stairs of the little house they now rented. "Martin, please hurry," she called again. Eventually, he came down the stairs. She had no hot cereal for him. He grabbed a glass of orange juice and a slice of bread with peanut butter on his own. He immediately proceeded toward the door, while his brother,Tommy hugged and kissed their mother. The smaller boy and his mother were close. Mary was never close to her elder son. Ed had admonished her many time about her treatment of Martin. The fact was, he reminded her of his natural father. She held a resentment; she could not lose. On one level, she knew it was wrong, but on another, she had Martin's strange behavior to justify her resentment. Tommy was out the door and running as fast as he could to put distance between himself and the brother whose violent nature he feared. Martin had never been anything but kind and protective of Tommy, but the little boy disliked conflict. Trouble followed Martin like a stalking lover, Always there ready to make its presence known. Always willing to seduce the boy into action. "Martin, no trouble please," Mary said. "I never start anything," he said. "I know, but don't finish anything either. It's a new school and a new chance," she said. Martin only grunted in reply. Tommy was getting on the school bus as Martin arrived. "Wait up champ. We can sit together," Martin called. Tommy didn't wait but climbed aboard the bus and took the first seat he could next to someone else so his brother could not sit with him. He then pretended that he did not know Martin. As Martin walked down the bus aisle, the riders tried not to look at him. It was his dress, of course. He had on a baggy worn sweatshirt, cheap and faded blue jeans and no name trainers with black socks. He looked raggedy and uncared for which considering his current home life was not altogether wrong. He knew his mom couldn't help it. His dad, Ed Robinson, had explained it to him. "Your Mom has had a hard life. Your Father who she loved died serving his country, but because they never married people looked down on her. She looks at you and sees him, and all the pain comes back," Ed said. So Martin understood, and he loved his mother. He used his clothing as a cloke to conceal the hard body beneath. This stealth, he felt made him powerful. He needed to feel that way. As he walked through the bus, a boy slid over inviting him to sit. As Martin sat, the boy offered his hand. "I'm Sam Parker," he said. "Martin." Sam was a big guy at least six three, and at a minimum, he was two hundred sixty pounds. Martins critical eyes could assess that a lot of that weight was muscle and bone. Sam was at least half a man wider than Martin and had him by a good two inches in height if not in reach. He would make a good opponent if not for the fact that Martin instinctively knew that Sam was in that class of human beings who are as big of heart as they are in stature. Sam was the type of guy who would put himself between Martin and some mean bastard to help out and get himself hurt in the bargain. Sam would make a good friend, but Martin could have no friends. Friends would just get themselves hurt. Sam was neatly dressed in a pair of khaki dress pants, a high-quality dress shirt, and neatly shined black shoes. He wore a varsity sweater with two letters the symbols on which showed football and wrestling. Sam caught Martin looking. "I'm starting varsity center," he said. When Martin failed to respond Sam tried to keep the conversation going, "I'm only a junior, but I hope to make all-state this year." "Good luck to you," was all Martin replied. "Do you play a sport?" "None lately not since my Dad died." Sam was stunned and not just by what was said. It was the casual matter of fact tone of the response as if he said my shoelace broke, and I quit. "Sorry I didn't mean...." They rode on in silence until mercifully the bus stopped at the high school. Sam let the new boy go head. As they reached the entrance, there were three boys leaning against a lamp stand. Martin's bully antenna when off. There were three bunched together but dominated by the middle boy a tall blond young man in a Central High jacket with a football letter. The minute they saw Martin they started. "Look at the dweb." "We going to let something like that into our school?" Martin could feel that warm feeling in his gut and the rising expectation in his chest. Fighting was as pleasurable to Martin as sex was to others. He could not explain it. He loved the release it afforded to the constant pressure his internal anger caused him. There was just nothing in this world like it. However, before anything could happen, Sam stepped in. "Leave the new kid alone, or I will tell Coach," he said. "Oh look, my old lady, has shown up." the blond said, "I better behave of she won't let me stick my hand up her butt." The three laughed at this reference to the blond being the team Quarterback and Sam having Blondie's hand on his backside for the snap. Even Sam laughed, but as he did, he pushed Martin past and into the school. "Thank you but don't do that again. I can take care of myself," Martin said. "Yeah, you going to fight all three? What chance you think you would have?" "Fifty-fifty." Sam could only laugh. You had to admit, "this guy has guts. No brains but guts." "So what's blondie's name." "That's Ted, the asshole, Oliver, as you may have guessed, the starting quarterback, team captain, and son of Lou Oliver of Oliver Hyundai, Kia and Nissan. Someone you want to stay far away from." Martin proceeded to the school office and got his homeroom assignment, class schedule, and locker number. There was time before class, but Martin knew no one and cared to speak to no one, so he headed for his homeroom. He moved through the corridors of the school anonymously those who notice him immediately dismissed him as a nonentity. Just another nobody in a big central-high-school. He reached the homeroom to find it empty except for the woman standing writing at the chalkboard. He took a seat at the very back. The teacher was tall perhaps an inch or two short of six feet, but maybe not that tall she was wearing heels. The tight black dress with its red facing showed an excellent figure. Her long coal black hair was gathered casually at her neck and came down past her shoulder blades. It shone with a bluish luster that made it, if anything, seem blacker. It was as black as any hair that Martin had ever seen. When she turned, you could see the porcelain white of her complexion contrast with that black hair and two exceptionally dark eyes. She was easily the most beautiful woman Martin had ever seen, but her eyes and her manner frightened him. Fright was a new experience for Martin. He did not know that he could feel fear, but this woman gave off a force he could not explain. "Well, you are a bad one, I see. Haven't seen your like in quite some time," she said. "Excuse me," Martin said. She came around her desk and leaned back on it. Pointing to the desk in front of her she said,"Come right up here Dragon Slayer." "What?" She laughed, "you are all the same. So innocent while you leave mayhem in your wake." Martin moved to the front feeling more uncomfortable by the minute,"what are you talking about?" "Cut it. You do not fool me that red aura of yours is near blinding. So much anger for one being. You dragon slayers are all alike. But there are no dragons left, so you are useless," she said. "I have no idea what you are talking about." "I'm saying that we do not need dragon slayers once all the dragons are gone." "Are you crazy or something?" "No, and this is my school--and my life--and I like peace. There can never be peace with a dragon slayer around." "I don't know anything about this dragon slayer business." "You I suppose are not the firstborn son of a warrior who killed at least seven worshipers of Satan. Your mother was not a virgin when she met your father and conceived you." Now Martin was concerned. His mother was a virgin when she met his natural father, and he was a soldier, and the citation on his silver star said he had won it on his first tour of Afganistan. He had killed up to a dozen enemies helping his squad fight its way out of an ambush then he came home and met Martin's mother. "You are just plain crazy, and you have no right to judge me before I have done anything," he said. "I am not crazy. I am Morgan Fey, and I have known dragon slayers all my long life, but you may be right I have no right to judge you without giving you a chance." "Thank you." "But only one chance. Prove to me that despite that terrible red aura you have that you can control yourself, and I will give you a chance. Go one day without trouble, without violence, and I will let you be," she said. "Ok." She offered her hand,"so we have a deal?" "Yes." As he took her hand, he felt an almost electric shock, and something deep inside him seemed to stir. It was something powerful. Something he instinctively feared. Morgan smiled, "hopefully that will help you keep our bargain. She is very strong in you. Her power is not surprising since you are the most powerful dragon slayer I have known at least since old George poor fellow. Students came in as the first bell rang. Martin was glad for the interruption. Morgan Fey was his homeroom teacher, and it was clear his classmates were very pleased with that fact. She laughed and joked with them, and they kidded her right back. Martin was again the outsider. To his classmates, he did not exist. The announcements read, the home period over, he headed to his first real class Chemistry. In chemistry, the teacher, Mr. Anderson, had them break up into pairs. As he lectured from the board, he had them set up an experiment. Martin's partner was Geoffery, the very image of a nerd and a colossal know it all, who proceeded to try to do the lab all by himself. He was, however, an immense klutz. Martin has gifted with great dexterity and a keen mind. Martin gave Geoffrey a chance then set up the experiment. That was all they were doing that day learning how to set it up, but Martin could easily look ahead and see what they were doing. Geoffrey was clearly a brain but socially backward. Martin formed an immediate attachment, one outsider to another. Chem was followed by math and then French. Martin kept his head down and well to the back. He followed the lessons closely but made sure not to participate at all. Even when he knew the answers to a question the rest did not, he remained silent. Lunch was in a big cafeteria. Martin chose a table and sat alone. From a brown paper bag, he pulled an apple and a peanut butter sandwich. He purchased a container of milk. "Well that sure looks appetizing," a chubby little brown-haired girl in an ill-fitting dress said. "It's what I got," he said. "Well have some of my french fries you would be doing me a favor," she said. She had a tray with what looked like ice tea, yogurt and a serving of french fries. "Yougart and fries? " he said. "Can't resist them it's a weakness. I'm Donna by the way," she said. She had to put down her tray to hold out her hand, and as she did, she sat down. Taking her hand, he said, "Martin Robinson." "Donna Smart, and no cracks about my last name." Just as she said this, there was a loud crash from the opposite side of the room. Geoffrey from chem class had tripped with his tray. It was right in front of a table filled with guys and girls. At the tables center and close to where Geoffrey had fallen was Ted, the asshole. Next to Ted was a tall blonde girl. What they refer to as a real stunner. Obviously, this was the alpha table, and they were the alpha couple. Everyone was laughing, and no one was helping Geoffrey. Getting up Martin said, "Excuse me." He walked over and began helping Geoffrey pick up what was left of his lunch. "Hey dip shit what do you think you are doing," Ted said. "Helping a friend," came Martin's reply. "Did I say you could do that?" Martin rose up. He looked Ted square in the eye with his hands down at his sides. "Whenever you are ready. You or whoever." Ted began to rise, but just then she appeared. "What's going on?" Morgan asked. Martin turned to her his frustration clear. She locked eyes with him "Mr. Oliver you will help Geoffrey with his lunch, and you, "she said pointing at Martin, "will go back to where you were. I will not warn you again." Martins anger was near choking him, but he could not cross her, so he went back feeling like a wimp. Wow," Donna said, "you gotta be the bravest guy in the school." "Or simply the dumbest. I haven't decided which," Sam said sitting down with them. "Oh high Donna," Sam said as if he just realized she was sitting there. Donna looked down and away as she said, "Hi Samuel." It was all Martin could do to keep from laughing. They had a thing for each other. It was so clear. Martin had never been even close enough to a girl to kiss her cheek, but he knew what he saw. They were so alike. A girl who would come over to a sit with a new kid and share her meager lunch, and a big bruiser who would go out of his way for someone he just met. Lunch passed without further incident with the interaction or lack thereof between Donna and Sam keeping Martin amused. Things might have gone well the rest of the day, but Ted had to come make a comment. "Well look at the losers table. All the fatso in one place," Ted said. The Barbie style blonde on his arm said nothing and looked a bit ashamed, but no matter, the pained look on Donna's face sealed Ted's fate. As Ted walked away, Sam turned to Donna "Pay him no mind. I don't." She had started to cry and pick up her tray and walked away. "Bastard. Someday," Sam said. "You ain't gonna get the chance," Martin said. "Why you smiling?" "Cause, I feel so good." Martin balled up his trash, and with an easy arm-toss sent it into the waste reciprocal as he walked away. English was his last class right after History with Mr. Thomas, a short little man who fancied himself a tough guy and who had been a golden gloves bantamweight if he was to be believed. But English was Morgan Fay's class. "We will be doing two Shakespeare plays this year the first of these is Romeo and Juliet," Morgan said. She went about the class peppering each student with familiar quotes and asking each student where they came from. No one was getting any. When she got to Martin, where she insisted he sit front row center, he could feel every student's eyes on him ready to laugh because she had made fun of all the others, and they were all having a good time at their own expense. "Who is fortune's fool? Mr. Robinson," she said. Martin wanted to play dumb. He opened his mouth to say I don't know but out came "Romeo Montague." She smiled, "and why is he a fool." "Because he killed Juliet's kinsman in a fight." "Why did he do that?" "He got angry, I guess." "Was he right to get angry?" "Yes, but it cost him his love." "You seem to know the play quite well. Any others?" "What?" "Plays, Martin, say for instance 'Good night sweet prince.' " "Hamlet Act Five, Horatio." "Once more into the breach." "Henry V" "All that glitters." " 'Is not gold.' Act one Merchant of Venice." Let's do it this the easy way is there any Shakespeare play you have not read." He did not answer. "I will take that as a no. So we will be looking on you to lead us, Mr. Robinson," she said. The class was in silent awe. Martin felt stripped naked. His covering cloak of anonymity gone. As the class ended, he got up to leave, and to his back, she said, "There is no reason to hide your knowledge. You should share it that helps you know. Friends make it easier. Remember just one day. We will let tomorrow worry about itself." At 2:55 Martin was at his locker in the hall. Ted was walking through with his arm around the Barbie girl. Casually as if by accident Martin backed up, and Ted crashed into him. Ted pushed by saying "Watch it dweb." "Sorry didn't know an asshole was passing." "What did you say?" Ted said turning on Martin. "I said sorry asshole that's what you are right?" Ted came at him. It was really too easy. The football star intended to give the new boy a push, but at the last instant, Martin stepped deftly aside, and with his right leg swept Ted feet out from under him. Ted's momentum carried him forward and down. Martins body pivoted like a man throwing a shot put. His left fist swung like a sledgehammer into the back of Ted's head sending the boy to a hard encounter with the floor. There was a clear popping sound as Teds Nose hit the floor and broke. With Ted down Martin send a swift hard kick into Ted's ribs breaking a couple. This was an unfortunate kick because Mr. Thomas saw it as he turned the hall corridor. "What's going on here," Thomas demanded. Ted was groning in pain on the floor. The assembled masses were all too eager to say Ted started it, but Thomas was not placated. He grabbed the new boy's arm and was surprised to feel the steel of the boy's muscle beneath the sweatshirt. The nurse arrived to help Ted, and Thomas dragged the new boy off to the office. Principle Fullbright and Mr. Thomas did not know what to do. On the one hand, both knew that Ted Oliver was a terrible bully, but one they were powerless to curb. On the other, he was hurt very severely by this rather nondescript new kid. "We can't just let it go," Thomas said. "No but the students will say that Ted started it, he just picked the wrong victim this time," Fulbright said. "You can say that again this kid is all muscle." "Hmm his homeroom teacher is Ms. Fey, Maybe she can help." When Morgan Fey entered the principal's office, Martin was sitting on the bench outside the inner office. "Couldn't last a single day," she said. "I didn't start it." "Please don't insult me. You took that fool Oliver like the simpleton he is, but don't think I am fooled," she said. Morgan entered the inner office. "Gentlemen I will handle this," she said. "But Morgan what will you do?" Principal Fulbright asked. "I will handle it don't concern yourselves," she said Martin waited on the bench until Morgan came out. He had lost his fear she was a woman what could she do? He could take anything that any female could dish out. Morgan took him back to her classroom and sat him down. "What have you to say for yourself? " she asked. "It was a fair fight." "Please a mortal against a dragon slayer." "I don't get this dragon business." "Oh, yes you do. You are quicker, stronger, and more cunning than a mortal. What chance did Ted really have?" "I guess he could have been a decent human being for starts." "The world is full of arrogant fools you going to kill them all?" "I didn't kill him." "No, you assured he would take another shot at you. Next time he comes prepared, but once again gets a dose of pain. Then he brings his friends which is just more of the same. Soon the whole school is involved. Those who have been oppressed or see themselves that way seek to emulate you. Ted and his kind fight to hold on. Chaos ensues." "So people should just roll over?" "No, they should mature and learn to live with the Ted's of this world. There will always be bullies. We need to learn to take a peaceful but moral position. Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall see peace." Martin could only grunt in response. "Someone has said that to you before?" "Yes." "Who?' "My dad." "Oh sorry, Martin he was a good man. I know you miss him, but I gave you a chance." "What chance do I have?" "The same as everyone, a choice between good and evil--right and wrong. You chose wrong. You let your anger win and control you. I am sorry, but you brought it on yourself." "I'm sorry." "Too late, you can go. I will see you tomorrow Martha," she said. "That it?" "Yes." "No punishment." "As I said, I will see Martha tomorrow." "Whose Martha?" "You will know tomorrow." Martin missed the bus and had to walk home. He could only wonder about his crazy teacher, Ms. Fey. She had frightened him at first, but in the end, he had nothing to fear. Arriving home his mother quizzed him about his day, and Martin only grunted responses. Finally, Mary Robinson gave up, and only wished once again Ed was still with them. That night Martin slept soundly until about five thirty in the morning. He woke with a definite need to pee. As he walked down the hall to the bathroom something kept brushing his ass. Reaching the bathroom he pulled up the toilet seat, but as he reached between his legs, nothing was there. He turned on the light. He had no cock and no balls. He looked in the mirror. The face that looked back was his, but not his. It was a girl that resembled him. He looked at his chest. Two massive breasts were stuck on his body. He sat down and began to pee. This was some weird dream. He went back to bed he would lay down and wake up and be back to normal. But he could not fall asleep. Six o'Clock found him near panic. His mother was up and starting breakfast. He ran downstairs to her. "Mom, Mom look at me." "Martha What are you doing running around naked. Your brother could be up at any minute. You want him to see you that way?" "Mom I'm a girl!" "Well, of course, Martha what else." "What did you call me?" "Martha, stop being silly and go upstairs shower and get dressed for school." Martha, she had called him Martha, and the words of Morgan Fey came back to him, "See you tomorrow Martha." Somehow Morgan Fey had done this to him. He went upstairs and took a shower. A very strange experience. This body was shorter with lots of curves. The breasts were huge and the waist tiny. The hips flared out in an overly suggestive manner, and his ass was near twice its former size. His hair went all the way down to the bottom of his ass. It was strawberry blond not dark as it had been. It hung straight as an arrow to brush the very tops of his legs. He wanted to cry. He was exactly the kind of girl he once fantasized about the kind you see in men's magazines whose likes include kittens and sprinkles on ice cream. He needed to get to school and confront her. Make her change him back. As he returned to his room, he realized he would need to dress. Jeans and A sweatshirt he thought, but when he opened his closet he was confronted with four times the clothing he once had owned. There were a plethora of choices, but all oddly the same. Extremely short dresses and skirts. Low cut blouses and dresses. The shoes were all high heels. The draws of his dresser filled with sheer hose and frilly underwear. All were perfectly matched and grouped together. He had everything to wear and nothing to wear. He found a green dress that was longer and higher cut than the rest, this he put on with some rather plain underwear. The bra was hard to get on he needed to twist his arms around behind, and when he did get it on it clearly did not fit properly. The size said 38 DD, but his breasts were bulging out in a very suggestive manner. He found a pair of flat shoes. Even he realized the tan shoes did not go with the green dress, but he had no intentions of wearing heels. When he arrived once again in the kitchen, Mary looked at him askance. "Is that how you are dressing for the first day of school?" "Yes, and It's the first day?" he said. "Well certainly, come eat your cereal before it gets cold." "You cooked for me?" "Of course, don't I always." Martin was so taken aback he actually sat and ate. Tommy waited to walk him to the bus. He grabbed his brown bag lunch and followed his brother. As they walked to the bus stop, Tommy said, "don't worry Sis I will make sure no one bothers you. His little brother was looking out for him how absurd was that. On the Bus, Tommy wanted to sit with him but Martin spied Sam and when to sit with him. "May I," Martin said. "Ah--I guess..." Sam was acting strangely. Yesterday which appeared to be today Sam was sure confident. Now confronted by Martin as a girl he had lost his voice. "I see you are on the football team. I bet you play center," Martin said. "Ah --I guess..." "What is wrong with him? Yesterday, I was lethal, and today I am merely a girl," Martin thought. But there was no help for it poor Sam had lost his confidence, and there was no getting it back. At school, Martin rushed down the hallway ignoring all the attempts to get his attention until he reached his homeroom. He stormed in. "Well hello Martha," Morgan said from behind her desk, "Aren't you early." "You bitch, you did this to me." "Oh Martha, It is not the B work but the W. You know witch not bitch." Martin paused. Witch, Witch Morgan Fey. No, it can't be. His eyes grew wide. "Morgan le Fay," he said. "Oh, you are bright, not one feather short of a full headdress. In fact, you may be the most intelligent dragon slayer I ever encountered. Much brighter than poor old Saint George," she said. "Saint George?" "Yes poor fellow ended his days as a barmaid, and well, you know other things not exactly saintly. More Mary Magdeline-- if you know what I mean." "But how?" "Oh, don't go all pedestrians on me you were doing so well. It's quite easy just reverse the aura." "What?" "The aura. You see it was all red on the outside but deep inside the deep, pleasing green held in by the thinnest blue border," she said. "That's just insane," he said. "Nonsense, I told you yesterday. Dragon Slayers are the children of the god of light. The twin of the god of darkness. Light and dark see. Well, what people never understand is the God of Light is female. So her seed is flawed. Dragon Slayers are male, but only on the outside within they are female thus the rage and their incredible ability to kill dragons. Problem is there are no more dragons and no need for dragon slayers. "But I'm not a girl." "Have you looked at yourself?" "Please turn me back." "Now how do you propose, I do that?" "Reverse the spell." "There is no spell. I mean turning back time that took a very powerful spell, but there was no help for that otherwise poor Ted would have been severely injured, and people might remember. This way it never happened. "To put Martha back inside she would have to consent, and well-- she is a lot stronger than you," Morgan mused. " What are you talking about?" "The girl who is even now taking over your consciousness. It's only a matter of time till Martin is no more." "No, I don't want to die." "Stop that. No one is going to die. You will simply adjust to being Martha. Relax, you are going to like it. Women have many more opportunities today. With a little luck, you might even become President. You are certainly smart enough." "Please, I don't want this." "You had your chance." "But surely there is a way." "If you could change all that anger into compassion. From red to blue maybe. No guarantees but maybe you could slip past Martha. But we both know that is never going to happen." "I'll do whatever it takes." "That is what the all say, but they never do." "I will." "Okay, but really a green dress and tan shoes." "All the others were too short, and the shoes had heels." She laughed and said, "Martha is not shy about that body of hers, and you will find that girls that wear heels all the time find it painful to wear flats for long periods." "Why did you give me this body to punish me." "Now you are being stupid. The laws of physics still apply. You have the same mass it is just distributed differently. The muscle is now fat. The excess bone is that great mane of hair. The hair changed color to suit Martha prettier disposition. Your eyes are still blue. I do admit those breasts and hips are astonishing, but you just need to adjust." "People stare at me." "They always stare at attractive women. Get use to it." Martin wanted to cry, but he would not give this evil witch the satisfaction. Once again his first class was Chemistry. Geoffrey was his partner, but now his tongue was all but hanging out. Martha knew how to set the experiment up and had it done lickety-split. Mr. Anderson came by and said" Great job Geoffrey." Martha was flabbergasted it never crossed his mind that she had even contributed. Each class was the same if Martha raised her hand it was ignored. If she yelled out the right answer, no trick when you heard it once before, no one paid attention. Lunch was a welcome change. She was later getting to the cafeteria. It was harder to get through the halls. She was the object of all attention.When she entered, she saw Donna already sitting down. She grabbed milk and went to sit with Donna. "What do you want?" "Just to sit with you." "Why?" "Well I think you are nice, and well I'm new." "You belong over there," Donna said pointing to the alpha table. "No, I don't." "Yes, you do." Then there was a crash. Geoffrey had been tripped. "Excuse me." As Martha went to help Geoffrey, she could feel eyes upon her. The Barbie was staring at Martha hard. She bent to help Geoffrey. "Hey babe you belong over here on my lap," Ted said. "Come on sweet cakes let me show you what I got." Martha stood, but there was nothing she could do now. She could not fight, She felt helpless, and her anger swelled until she thought the top of her head would blow off. "Come on bitch let me show you what I got." "That's enough. Mr. Oliver, you have detention," Morgan said. "What for?" "Sexual harassment." "What harassment?" "Two days detention care to try for three," Morgan said. She had shut Ted down, but as she turned to Martha, she was smirking. "Nice of you to help Geoffrey. You do have a thing for the underdog, but that temper is still way out of control." She was right, of course, he had no chance unless he could learn to control his temper. He returned to the table with Donna. "Sorry, I'm Donna Sharpe, she said. "Mart--Martha Robinson." "I guess you should never judge a book by its cover." Just then Sam joined them. "Oh hello Sam," Martha said, "You know Donna?" "Yes, hi Donna," he said "Hi Sam," Donna replied. Martha felt mischievous. "You know here I sit with the best guy in the school, and the best girl aren't I lucky," Martha said. Both of them blushed, so Martha went on. "You know you two should get together what a couple you would make." They were speechless, so Martha used the opportunity to open her lunch. There was no plain peanut butter sandwich. In its place a turkey on wheat with crisp leaf lettuce and thinly sliced tomato with a bit of Russian dressing and carrot and celery sticks. "What wrong Martha?" Donna asked. "Nothing, my Mom, made my favorite sandwich," she said as the tears began to flow. "Oh for christ sake, she faces down the biggest bully in the school and cries over a sandwich," Sam said. "She has feeling Sam," Donna said. So went lunch. Finally, at days end English last class. Morgan went around the room once again but skipped Martha. "Hey don't I get asked a question?" Martha said. "Oh class this is Martha. She has read every Shakespeare play and wants to impress us with her knowledge. Isn't that right Martha. "No, I just want to be treated like everyone else." Morgan smiled, "You have to earn acceptance it isn't given away. Young LADY." At home, Mary greeted Martha with a hug and demand for a full report of her day. As Martha sat down to study before dinner, Mary sat down with a brush and comb and began brushing out Martha's long hair. Martin had never had this kind of attention from his mother. "Mom, why are you doing that?" "What?" "Brushing out my hair?" "Well, I always do it. Your hair takes a lot of work." Martin could not believe it. His mother showered attention on Martha. It was so unfair, but he had no time for this he resented the way he was treated as if he was stupid. He needed to study to show those assholes he, well she, was no stupid bimbo. The problem was that he looked like what he thought a bimbo looked like. Went he went to bed he prayed to wake up himself again. In the morning, he was still Martha. Well, the hell with it. He searched the draws until he found a bra that was size 38 F. It was plain and white but comfortable. A pair of blue boy shorts followed. They had black lace trim. They felt good, and they looked so pretty. He had to shake his head to clear it of these strange thoughts. It was oddly exciting and humiliating to pull the fragile panties up his legs. They were very soft, yet the lace gave a pleasant kind of scratch. He then put on a blue dress it was short a good four inches north of his knees with a deep V neck that showed his substantial cleavage. Unfortunately, the comfortable bra showed. There was no help for it. Either the dress or the bra must go. He swapped out the bra for one that matched the panties. His breasts bulged out and heightened the effect of the dresses V neck. This was clearly the purpose of this dress bra combination. Blue three inch pumps completed the outfit. His legs were bare, he wore no hose, and he felt all naked below his waist. But, he immediately realized the shoes felt more comfortable, and he had this feeling that he was dressed right. The colors matched. His appearance seemed natural. This was who Martha was, a pretty girl who dressed to show it. He loved and hated the way he looked at the same time. "How do I look Mom?" she asked. "Well, a little makeup dear. I know I told you no on the heavy stuff, but a girl isn't dressed without a little bit." Twenty minutes later she was ready. Tommy walked her to the bus and insisted on sitting with her. School was interesting. People turned and stared. Students, teachers, and administrative staff. Everyone wanted a look. Every obnoxious guy hit on her. Today she had advanced placement biology. This was never Martin's best subject, but apparently, Martha was different. She had seated herself toward the back when in walked a giant. He wasn't a giant of course. Just six feet six maybe three hundred pounds. He was Byron Simons, a black guy who was affectionately known as Bear to his friend and enemies alike. The teacher Mrs. Tyler broke them up into groups based on ability. She lumped Bear and Martha together in the bottom rank. They spent the class working together. Bear in addition to his trouble with biology had the problem that he was paired with what everyone said was the prettiest and sexiest girl in school. Rumors already circulated about her sexual preferences. Accordingly, Bear was distracted. Somehow they managed to get through the class. Just before lunch, Martha was approached by the Barbie Doll and two other girls. One black and one white but both exceedingly attractive. "Hello my name is Betty, and this is Hilary and Beth," the Barbie Doll said. "Hi, I'm Martha," She replied with some trepidation what was this about. "We were wondering whether you are coming out for Cheerleading? Tryouts are tomorrow after school," Betty said. "Oh, I don't know. I've never done that sort of thing," and you can say that again Martin thought. Leaning in and taking Martha's hand Betty said,"Well you should give it a try. I'm team Capitan, and we could use some new blood." "Well Ok, maybe." "Good remember to bring a sports bra and your gym gear. You don't want those girls flopping around, or you will give every member of the football team a boner. That is how Martha found herself on the athletic field doing cartwheels and prancing about. Oddly it came quite naturally, and she seemed to really like it. The other girls were all great including Betty who was a real person with like a brain. As they practiced so did the football team. Martha could see Sam and Bear, but also Ted. The last kept staring at her. After a particularly grueling set of moves, the girls took a break, and they crowed for water around a little pink pail. Martha noticed a large bucket from which Bear was currently drinking. She went right over and asked him for a drink. Bear was like a deer caught in the head lights. He stared down at her unable to move. "You know like a drink of water cause I am thirsty," she said. He unfroze and dropped the dipper into the bucket and offered it to her. She took her drink. "Thank you," she said, and then for no reason hopped up and planted a kiss on his cheek. She immediately noticed how rough his face was. He had a beard. Wow, she thought. Martin had no actual beard. As she walked back, she noticed the other girls staring at her. "You like him? He's a big dork." "No, he is a really a gentle man. I just know it. I feel it," Martha said. It was only then it hit her what she had done. She had flirted with a boy. Betty grabbed her, "look we don't hang with that sort we are Cheerleaders." Betty's reaction seemed a bit over the top, but Martha figured she would get cut anyway. She was wrong. She made the team. It wasn't just her looks she had ability. Making the team lead to being invited to a get-together at Betty's house. "It's no big deal we all hang out around the pool. You know do stuff and talk about boys," Betty said. "Well, I don't know," Martin replied. There would have been a time such an invitation would have been most agreeable, but in his current condition, things were different. Of course, it was his current condition that had gotten him the invite. "Oh, please your one of the team now. Don't be a stuck up," Betty said. "Ok, I guess if it's what the team does." "Remember to bring a bathing suit," she said. The idea of a bathing suit made him cringe. This new body was ghastly. At one time he had found the mysteries of the female body exciting. Now, it made him sick. Martha had a hole between her legs. She sat down to pee from another hole. There was nothing to hold while she did it. More frightening still was the extreme sensitivity. He had only to brush her nipples to have them stand up hard and deeply blushed. Touch yourself down below, and electricity shoots through your body. He could rub his penis for hours without pushing himself over. But this girl had no control. Touch her even casually, and she tingled all over. He was sure this was not normal. That awful witch had done this. Put him in this weak oversexed body. She was playing with his mind. Confusing him till he did not know who he was. But he was determined that she would not win even as he felt the growing power of Martha. Her very presence in a room changed the way people acted. People smiled when she appeared. Men stood up straighter, and boys became positively stupid. "What am I going to wear?" he thought **** It was Saturday, and he was expected at Betty's. The wardrobe was filled to capacity. But it was getting harder and harder to decide what to wear. He longed for the days when Martin would wear the same jeans for a week. But the thought of doing that made him shutter now. After all, it was quite disgusting. Martin was a bit of a pig. But still deciding what to wear was a difficult task. You wanted to look your best. This girl thing was simply not easy. The bathing suit was a real problem. There was the Mom suit, the simple two-piece, that looked good but not sexy of which mother would approve. However, Martha didn't want to come off looking like someone's grandmother, but the other suits that were stashed at the back of the draw? Could she dare wear one of those? What if there were boys around. Martha nipples stood tall at that thought. A physical reaction that made Martin angry. "I'll get that witch," he thought, "If it's the last thing, I do." Martha pulled the skimpy green bathing suit out and placed it in her bag. You would hardly notice it in the bag even if you looked. It was three small pieces of cloth and some strings altogether the size of a man's hand. "Oh well, at least they won't think I'm a prude." Betty's house was one of those Mc Mansions on the plush eastside of town. It was a two-story colonial set on a too small lot, but the backyard was deep. The pool was a good size, and the girls were all stretched out in chase lounges when Martha arrived. She was glad she had left the Mom suit at home. None of the cheer squad was wearing more than a half yard of cloth. Betty was positively obscene. Her suit was meant to arouse. An odd fact with not a male in sight. Martin could only sigh and wonder how he might have felt if he were still himself. When Martha got her suit on, she fit right in and then some. The witches magic gave her a body that seemed designed to turn any swimsuit into a Sports Illustrated cover. The little green number she had set off her red hair and contrasted well with her creamy complexion. "Oh I'm so happy you could come," Betty said and then slipped her arm around Martha. The girls baked themselves in the sun, did their nails, and talked boys. And, talked boys until Martha was yawning with boredom which made Betty laugh. "What's that matter? You find boys boring?" Betty asked. "Well, the way you talk of them they are, who cares how they smile or what color eyes they have," he said which brought just perplexed stares from the others. "I mean, shouldn't you judge them on how they treat you, or whether they are loyal to their friends," he said. "But don't you want a cute boyfriend?" the petite little blond, Beth, said. "Not if he's a jerk." "But what if he's ugly? What will people think of you?" Hillary demanded. "People will think what they will. You need to respect yourself." The general consensus was that Martha might have a point, but she was mostly wrong. Betty was strangely silent through all this. As the pool party broke up, she asked Martha to stay a while. "Why don't we go up to my room shower and change," Betty suggested. Betty's room was at the far end of the second story. It was a large room with its own private bath. Betty turned on the shower and waved Martha in. As Betty exited the room, Martha stripped her suit and entered the stall shower. She was no sooner in then Betty joined her. Betty pushed her against the shower wall and kissed her. Martha was stunned. Betty kept kissing her while her hands roamed Martha body. That body betrayed Martha; it reacted by moving into the other girls embrace. Betty's lips were sweet, and her body gave off a musk that filled Math's nostrils. Betty's mouth moved to Martha's right nipple, and her hand found the place between Martha's legs. She willed her legs together, but they moved apart on their own. Betty's fingers invaded her and then stopped caught by an obstruction. "Oh my God, you're a virgin!" Betty cried. Martha looked at her shower mate in complete bewilderment. "You have a hymen. You're intact. You have never..." It hit Martin suddenly. He had been a virgin, so Martha was as well. He suddenly felt embarrassed and tried to pull away. "Oh no, you don't. I'm going to wash you all over, and then I'm going to take you to bed. Fuck you not like some crude boy but as one woman takes another," Betty said. A half-hour later, Betty, had Martha bent to her will. The virgin moaning and trembling in an orgasm that was long and intense. Martin had experienced nothing like this. It left him weak and completely sated. "Well am I good or what?" Betty asked. "Your good, so good," Martha said wiggling with pleasure. Ok, time for round two," Betty said as she pulled Matha between her legs. When it was finally over Martha had to ask the question. "You like boys too?" "Not especially," Betty said. "But what about Ted." "That pig. Sex with him is a thirty seconds affair. Thank God." "But he's your boyfriend?" "Well of course silly. He's quarterback, and his old man has money. He drives a sports car for God sakes." "But you like girls?" "Yes, but that's private not for public knowledge. Just for us," Betty said and squeezed Martha' hand imploringly. "Couldn't you come out. Like from the closet?" "Now you are being silly. I'm head cheerleader, the most popular girl in school. You've seen the gay girls at school, losers everyone. You think I want to go around with some butch girl. Don't be so innocent. There are plenty of us in the shadows. We marry, have kids, and our fun too." But as Betty said this Martha could detect a deep and intense sorrow. **** "Alright what is it?" Morgan said. "Nothing," it was Monday well before the first bell. Martha had appeared in her shortest mini skirt and a low-cut blouse with the black lace of her inadequate bra just showing beneath. Walking through the halls she had all but caused a riot. "Don't nothing me, I'm not your mother, young lady." Martin's head fell onto his arms with a sob, "I can't do this," he wailed. "You just need to adjust. No one said being a teenage girl would be easy." "But you don't know what I did." "You had sex with someone," Morgan said receiving a shocked look in return. "It's all over your aura. The guilt is palatable. Now, which girl did you take advantage of?" "You can tell it's a girl?" Now it was Morgan's turn to sigh, "If it were a boy you would be all bubbly and happy. Telling your girlfriends how cute he looks, and how wonderful his smile is. But all you are showing is guilt so who was it." "Betty," she said with a little sob. "Oh, the closet lesbian. Well, that figures. Fun was it?" Martha didn't answer only lifted her head and turned away. Morgan gave an encouraging smile to the back of Martha's head and squeezed Martha's left shoulder. "Listen to me. You must live and learn. Maybe what you did was a foolish thing, but it's done and no point in crying over spilled milk. Besides, it was time the dragon slayer learned what a real orgasm feels like. I assume the Dyke delivered you one?" Morgan queried lifting an eyebrow. Martha couldn't look at Morgan, but she nodded her head, "it was extremely intense." "Last a while did it?" Martha turned suspecting Morgan knew way too much. "Part of it is just the difference male to female but then Martin was a dragon slayer, and they get high on combat. Martin was certainly no lover and had little interest in sex. But you Martha are a normal girl and then some," Morgan said with a big laugh. The homeroom students started coming in, so the conversation ended. But not the odd feeling that Martin now Martha had. Even more troubling was a feeling there existed something that Morgan Fey was not saying. Martin hadn't been very interested in girls. Betty had been an experience, but she had awakened thoughts that he would have kept hidden from himself. He could see himself in the arms of Sam, Byron, or even Ted. All the boys in his little daydreams had faces. However, he could remember no Martin fantasy where the girl ever had a face. He was having the terrible thought that perhaps Martha was a real person living in a real world and Martin had been a fiction, a make-believe person. He needed to hit someone just to get himself back but even as he thought this he knew Martha would never hit anyone in anger. He needed to end this and do it soon. The longer it took, the more he could feel her growing inside him. She was the enemy, and he realized just how cruel females could be. He had never thought of them that way before. Indeed, he had never thought of them period. He had come late to puberty. He was just beginning to feel those hormonal urges. Morgan had stolen the joy of discovering the opposite sex from him and left him a young man's wet dream. More an object than a person. Martin was brooding on these dark thoughts as he walked through the hall to his first class. Suddenly an arm appeared in his path, and a body forced him against the hall lockers. "Hey babe, Let me introduce myself formally," Ted Oliver said. "I know who you are, Theodor," Martha replied. "Ted, my friends call me, Ted." "But, I'm not your friend." "That's what I'm here to remedy." Just then a dark shadow seemed to envelop Ted, and then Byron spoke, "You mind moving Oliver so I can get to my locker," Byron said from right behind Marsha. Ted had to look up to reply, but he maintained his arrogance, "you mind I'm talking to someone here." "No you're not," Martha said ducking under Ted's arm and moving quickly away. Yet as she escaped, she paused to flash a smile back at Bear which left Martin wondering why he had done that. Ted caught the smile and who it was intended for. He would make Bear pay for his interference later that day with a cheap shot on the football field. The bigger boy didn't even see who surreptitiously kicked him when he was down in the pile of bodies after a busted play. Martha made it through the day without further incident. If you didn't count, her blowup at Mr. Andrerson for once again giving Geoffrey credit for Martha's work. "What am I invisible," she complained. "Really, Ms. Robinson--" the surprised teacher began, but Geoffrey intervened. "Martha sets up all the experiments sir, and she does the calculations. I'm really assisting her," Geoffrey informed the Chemistry Teacher. "Hmm, well, I'm sorry if you felt slighted, Ms. Robinson. I beg your pardon," he said, but his eyes involuntarily drifted to where her breasts fought against containment by the folds of her blouse. It was Martin realized completely useless. No matter what Martin did, Martha would always be judged by her appearance. It defined her in ways that were unfair, and he suddenly realized in a kind of gestalt that he had been so judged as well. Martin had drifted through school as a nonentity which of course was his problem. When someone stepped on him, his quills came out like a porcupine. It was the surprise factor that caused all the problems. His problem was that he gave no warning. No one willingly takes on a porcupine if they can avoid it. But, when they get hurt by what appears to be a harmless creature, they feel anger. A moral outrage at the unfairness. With this new insight, he decided to once again brace Morgan. He caught her at the end of the school day as she graded papers in her classroom. "I've figured it out. What I was doing wrong. You see, I wasn't warning people that they might get hurt by attacking me. I appeared harmless which mislead people, and they would get hurt. If they knew how strong I was, they would have avoided me, and that would solve the problem. So, I know now, and you can turn me back." Morgan laughed. It was the kind of laugh that forced her to sit back and wipe the tears from her eyes. "Oh, that's excellent. You've learned your lesson, and it is that you need a sign. A surgeon general's warning that bulling a dragon slayer can be hazardous to your health. A brilliant solution to the problem." Martin had all he could do to control his temper. He wanted to wrap his hands around that beautiful neck of hers and squeeze the life from her, but instead, he pleaded, "You don't understand I can't take anymore of this. I'm at their mercy. I'm helpless." Morgan stopped laughing, "Whose mercy?" "Them! Don't you understand, boys, men, the male population. They look at me, but can't see me. I'm just a thing. I can't take it," he said and started crying. "Come here," Morgan said rising to enclose him in a hug, "When did it start?" "Start?" he said looking confused. She led him to the faculty restroom, "Here we're going to need this," she said turning a knob and pulling an item from a machine. "Seems we caught it just at the start she said lifting the short cotton skirt he had worn that day to feel between Martha's legs. "What are you doing?" he said stunned. "You're feeling bloated and a little achy. Your emotions are all out of whack. Look in your pants," she said. There was a small red spot like he had peed a little blood. He stared not at first grasping the significance. Then it hit him. A sob escaped his lips, and his chin wobbled as the tears flowed. "Oh, pull yourself together," Morgan chastized him. "A significant portion of the population go through this every month. You're a big girl now, and you need to learn to live with it. Now wrap the wings around the crotch and pull your pants back up." Wiping his tears, Martin followed the direction and wondered could life get any worse. _____________________________________________________________ This is as far as I've gone. It may be a while before I can finish.