The Great Shift - Summer's End Part 5 free porn video

The Great Shift - Summer's End (Part 5) by Limbo's Mistress It took me a few moments to get over my initial surprise. Then I turned around and went back to the bed while Kara stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. I sat down on the edge, pulling the comforter over my lower body. The urge to retreat back under the blankets was still present, thought I knew I wouldn't, couldn't, do that to Kara. Not when it was so obvious that she intended to talk to me. Even though we hadn't spent that much time together before going our separate ways, I'd learned enough to know that she could be dogged and determined when she wanted to be. If she wanted to talk, then talk she would. She remained where she was, looking at me with my daughter's face. A face I hadn't seen in months, and, quite honestly, had thought I might never see again. "I would ask how you're doing," she said in a soft, even tone. "But I know it's not all that good." "You know?" She nodded. "I was standing there when the police told Carrie." I looked away to the pile of clothing that had fallen off the end of the bed to the floor. All the various back-to-work outfits I'd tried on just that morning before settling on the jeans and blouse I'd worn. Several of the discarded choices were skirts or dresses. If I'd been wearing one of those when Tyrone came for me ... I barely repressed a shudder at the thought. "It's okay," she said, drawing my attention back to her. I felt my mouth drop open and a sharp pain stab me right in the chest. It was okay? How could nearly being raped by a deranged sociopath be okay? What? Because I was a female now, it was just another inconvenience I'd have to learn to live with. "What?" I managed to croak, still having a hard time believing what I heard. "The feelings you're feeling right now. They're okay to feel," she said, moving away from the door to cross over to sit next to me on the bed. "An experience like that, it doesn't just create one type of emotion. It's like ... hitting yourself on the hand with hammer, you know?" I shook my head. What did a hammer have to do with sexual assault? She put a hand on one of my thighs, keeping the comforter between us. "Okay, you've hit your finger before surely. I mean, I've done it dozens of times, and I don't work in construction." "Yeah," I said, trying to follow her thought processes. "I've probably done it a hundred times." "And it hurts, right? Like stinging like crazy pain." She nodded in response to her own statement. "But it's not just the physical pain of the injury. Then there's the anger. When you're mad at yourself for not paying enough attention to what you were doing. Which caused the pain in the first place. Plus, if you've really done a number on your finger, when you pick up the hammer to try again, you're going to have some fear. Perhaps a little trepidation that you might miss and hit yourself again." I nodded. She gave me a little frown. "What happened to you tonight? It's going to be like that. You're going to feel a bunch of different ways. Which is totally okay." A small, charitable smile formed on her face. "Even if you're currently thinking that it's not." "I ... Kara ..." I looked away, my face burning with shame. The hand on my leg vanished, only to reappear around my shoulders a heartbeat later. "Doug, it's hard. Believe me, I know how hard it is." She leaned her cheek against my shoulder. "And there's going to be times, more than a few, when you think you're not going to be able to survive it. Or you're going to start wondering what you could have done differently." She sighed. "I'm not going to try to tell you not to think that way, because you're going to anyway. It's just the way it is." After several minutes of complete silence, save for our slow breathing, I finally was able to choke out some of my emotions. "I was terrified," I whispered as a new stream of tears slipped over my lower eyelids and danced down my cheek. "I've never been that scared of anyone. Not even of my old man, and he was a real son of a bitch when he was drunk." "It's okay," she replied, keeping her arm around me. "I ... I kept thinking, in my mind, 'Doug, you're supposed to be a man. Just beat this punk's ass into the dirt'. But ... I ..." "You knew you weren't physically able to react that way anymore?" I nodded as the heat that had been cooling in my cheeks reignited. "I hated feeling so ... weak. Helpless. So ..." "Female?" I nodded again. "I'm sorry." "For what?" "Thinking like that." For a second, Kara didn't respond, then the hand on my shoulder patted me a few times. "Don't be. You've only been a woman for a few months, I've been that way my whole life and I can assure you there have been more than a couple of times I've hated it as well. I know I wouldn't expect you to have become completely happy about your new situation in such a short time." Her voice changed to a slightly more mirthful tone. "Even if I've heard about your penchant for shopping and hair salons." I bit down on my lip, a sniffling laugh bubbling its way out of my mouth. "Completely Carrie's fault." Kara turned slightly so that she could bend around to look into my face. The features staring at me might have looked just like my daughter, but the eyes focused on mine were a lot more worldly than would be expected from any fifteen-year-old. "The most important thing I want you to realize is that you are safe now. He cannot hurt you anymore and you're surrounded by people who care and love you. Getting over it is a tall order, Doug. What I think you should focus on more is getting past it. Not letting it define your life." She reached up with her free hand and used her thumb to wipe away the tacky wetness of one cheek. "Okay?" I stared into those eyes, seeing not only the compassion within them, but also the empathy. Kara wasn't speaking to me as someone who could only imagine what I'd experienced a short while ago. She had lived it. After a few seconds, I nodded slowly. "I'll try." Her mouth curled into a smile. "That's all anyone can ask you to do." "Where have you been?" I asked quietly. "I thought maybe you would have visited before now." "I was doing family stuff. Finding out how much damage the Great Shift did to the few relatives I had." "And?" She shook her head. "Not tonight. I promise I'll tell you all about my exploits and adventures since we parted ways tomorrow. Tonight, I think it would be best for you to just rest and take some time for yourself." She slid to her feet and grabbed the corner of the comforter that wasn't draped over me. Getting the hint, I pushed the rest of the covers away and turned to climb into the bed, settling back where I had been when she knocked on the door. As I adjusted my hair on the pillow so it wasn't trapped beneath my head, I felt her pull the blankets up to my neck. Then, the weight of her joining me made the mattress springs creak. Kara curled up against my back, her on top of the comforter, and draped her arm over my side. "I'm going to stay with you until you fall asleep. If that's okay?" I paused for a second, momentarily feeling embarrassed that I wanted her to do that very thing. However, I quickly accepted the fact that needing someone who cared to lie beside me wasn't me being weak. Or girlish. It was acknowledging that I was suffering from a real, traumatic incident, and having her pressed against my back allowed me to find the elusive sense of peace required to go to sleep. "Thank you," I whispered as I closed my eyes. "Anytime." When I awoke, the first thing I became aware of was the fact that my t- shirt was slightly damp. I couldn't remember exactly what my dreams had been, but it wasn't that much of a stretch to think they'd most likely been nightmares. The second thing I noticed was that Kara had spent the entire night curled against me. I could still feel her pressing against my back with her arm draped over my side. I drew in a deep breath, releasing it with a tiny sigh as some small measure of relief began to blossom within me. The arm crossing my ribs shifted, and I felt a small hand cup on of my breasts through the thin cotton. Before I could respond to the sudden and unexpected touch, the fingers of that same hand located the nipple and gave it a sharp, aggressive pinch. "Ow!" I yelled, scooting away from Kara as fast as I could. However, when I spun around to berate her for her actions, I discovered that I wasn't sharing the bed with the girl who'd assumed my daughter's body. The hand that had groped me belonged instead to the person to whom, thanks to the Great Shift, I was now biologically related. "Morning, sunshine," Melanie said mockingly, her British accent clipped and short. "Have a good night?" I pulled the comforter closer against me, glaring at her. "What the hell, Mels?" I asked, noticing that my voice had adopted a strangely uncharacteristic tremble to it. "What's the big idea?" That plump, pimply face that was once Kara's brother's turned in my direction, the beady piggish eyes glimmering with joyful madness. A snorting giggle came from between her lips and the shrug she made came off as a parody of innocence. "I heard about your little incident last night," my wife said, just stopping herself short of cackling. "Didn't I warn you that there'd be men coming for that hot little bod of yours?" "Shut up," I growled, though there was no real fire behind it. "Just shut up." She clicked her tongue at me, shaking her head disapprovingly. "You really should have just gone with it, Doug. I mean, from the confession Susan made one time when she'd been far into her cups, Roger was quite the hung gentleman. Almost too big, according to her." She maneuvered up from lying on the bed into a kneeling position, then began to rock her hips back and forth in a lewd manner. "I often fantasized what it would be like to ride that stallion. You know, when I was feeling particularly frisky and you were busy with other things." I put my hand over my mouth, staring at her. "You're sick." She cackled again. "No, Douglas. Just a realist. You never know, you might have liked it." "Tyrone nearly raped me!" I cried, clenching my hands into fists. "He attacked me and would have raped me." Mels rolled those nasty eyes. "It's not rape if you're a slut, Douglas." "I'm not a slut," I protested, though I felt my face growing hot. "Not yet. But that tramp who used to live there was. Of that, I'm quite sure." "Kara is a nice person," I countered. "I never said she wasn't nice, Doug. I'm sure all the guys who stuck their dicks in her thought she was extremely nice." "Shut up. Kara isn't ... wasn't ..." "It's okay," the person currently being discussed said from the open door of the bedroom. "I'm perfectly capable of defending myself." Melanie whipped her head over to glare at Kara. Then she climbed off the bed and walked toward the door. For a second, I thought she might try to attack the interloper. Though she was several inches shorter than Carrie's body, she had probably just as much mass. A fight between the two of them might be more evenly matched than one would expect. Instead, however, my wife paused long enough to look back over her shoulder at me, her eyes flashing with anger and hate from beneath her greasy bangs. "I wish he had fucked you," she spat. "At least then that whore's body would get some use." I gaped at her as she glanced up at Kara, sniffed, then strolled out of sight. A few seconds later, the sound of our formerly shared bedroom's door slamming echoed down the hall. "Sorry about that," Kara said as she stepped into the room and closed the door. "I had to go to the bathroom. I didn't realize she would take advantage of my absence." I wrapped my arms around my waist, hugging myself so tightly I thought I might actually spring a rib. "She's not right," I mumbled. "The Shift ... she's not been herself since it happened." Kara sighed and crossed the room to sit on the bed. It was the sigh of someone who is doing their best to maintain a level of civility. When what they really wanted to do was scream and throw stuff. I recognized the sound of it all too easy. "None of us have, Doug. We've all had to adapt. You know this." Now my face really did feel like it was going to spontaneously combust. The absurdity of the situation was flashing in my brain like a strobe light at a rave. I shouldn't have to be lectured on accepting the truth that everyone had been affected by the Shift. Even those who kept their own bodies. And I certainly shouldn't have to receive that lecture from a girl in her twenties who looked like she was ready to start taking driver's ed. Had I really fallen so low? Kara patted the bed beside her, and I found myself dutifully walking over to sit down. "Look, Doug," she said softly. "I'm not trying to make you feel bad, okay? I know that you've been this incredible ... rock, ever since the moment we woke up in different bodies. You kept the families, mine and yours, calm and organized. You made arrangements for your businesses to continue to operate. Including offering those who could no longer do their original jobs new opportunities." I lifted my head to stare at her. Her response was a little coy smile. "So, I might have been in touch with Carrie over the past couple of months. Just the occasional text." I shook my head, but didn't take my eyes off hers. "She never said anything. I mean, more than once I mentioned to her that I hoped you were okay and wondered what you were doing. Carrie always acted like she just had this feeling that you were doing well." I let out a little laugh. "Guess it was more than just a feeling." Now it was Kara whose cheeks became flushed. "I asked her not to tell you that we were communicating." "Why?" She sighed again. "Because I knew that it would probably turn into you constantly asking me to visit. Or to move here. There is some type of connection between us. I know you've felt it. I don't know if it's related to the Shift or if it's something else altogether." I nodded. I knew what she was talking about. After the initial shock of losing more than two decades of aging, as well as my manhood, wore off, it had seemed like Kara and I were closer than any of the others. I'd originally thought it was because she wanted to be close to her former self. In the hopes the process might reverse itself. By the time we were ready to leave the beach house, however, I knew it was more than that. "So, why did you decide to visit now?" She cut her eyes away from me, but a tiny smirk formed on her face. "Carrie texted me a bunch of pictures of you. While you guys were at the mall." "Oh." She nodded. "That's when I knew that you'd finally become acclimated to my body. When it was no longer some foreign thing you were dealing with." She shrugged. "Guess I wanted to see the new you with my own two eyes." I nodded, understanding what she meant. Yet, there was something else there in that smirk. Something far less altruistic. "Any other reasons for you to drop by?" "Well, I also wanted to see if I could pick up some new clothes. I really didn't want to have to buy a whole new wardrobe for winter, and I know that Carrie has really great taste." I laughed. "Actually, most of the stuff you're looking for was picked out by Melanie. She always had an eye for fashion and pairing things that complimented each other." Kara's smile faltered a bit. "I didn't realize that." She turned on the bed and looked at me. "You have to realize that I didn't meet your wife until after the Shift. By then, she was already angry about who she'd become and was getting nastier and more hateful with each passing day." "Yeah," I said, simply because I really couldn't argue with her assessment of Mel's reaction. I couldn't even try to offer the possibility that, had the Shift not happened, Melanie would have been far more cordial to her. Seeing what she'd become over the past few months, I had started to accept the fact that the woman I'd thought was the love of my life was a vindictive, jealous, and envious person beneath the surface. She would have turned up her nose at the pretty college student. She would have pulled me aside to whisper how she didn't like her flaunting herself around Joseph. How she was setting a bad example for Carrie. Or any number of a hundred other reasons why I should show Kara to the door and ask her to not come back for the duration of our vacation. All simply because she was prettier and friendlier than Melanie. I'd simply been too blind, too male, to realize just how shallow my lovely wife really was. "Carrie is scared of her, Doug." My head whipped back up as quickly as if she'd reached over and slapped me. I stared at her, blinking rapidly. "What?" "Carrie locks her bedroom door at night when she sleeps," Kara said, her voice slightly louder than a whisper. "Sometimes she puts a chair in front of it, just in case Melanie tries picking the lock." "That doesn't make any sense at all," I said, standing up and turning to face her. The voice in the back of my head, the one controlled by my head and not my heart, started to speak up. I did my best not to listen to it. "Yeah, it does." "Why is Carrie scared of her mother? I mean, she's bigger and stronger. Granted, Mels wasn't a gym rat, but she exercised regularly and is fairly well-muscled." "None of which means a damn when you're asleep," Kara said. She didn't stand or raise her voice. "Melanie has made comments, and vague threats, to her. She resents being trapped in my brother's body, but she resents her daughter getting her old body even more." "Carrie has told you this?" I said accusingly. Deep down, I prayed that this was speculation on Kara's part and not possessing of a single kernel of truth. Kara nodded. "She has," she confirmed. Then paused for a moment before continuing. "Carrie called me a couple of nights ago. Even though it was two in the morning, I answered the phone because she never called before. It was always texts." "Why was she calling you so late?" Kara bit down on her lip, then nodded her head toward the closed door. "She woke up in the middle of the night and went downstairs to get a glass of ice water. She was standing there in the dark when she felt Melanie's hand grab her wrist and squeeze it as hard as she could. Poor girl nearly dropped her glass." "What?" Kara nodded. "Then she started accusing Carrie of sneaking downstairs in the middle of the night to snack. Kept telling her that she wasn't going to get to just throw all Melanie's hard work and sacrifice away. Carrie managed to get free and ran back up to her room and locked the door. She called me after she finally managed to calm down." She shook her head. "I don't think she went back to sleep for the rest of the night." I glanced at the closed door for a moment, then looked at Kara. "I didn't know. Why didn't she tell me?" "I asked her that," Kara replied as she brought her hands around to her lap and interlaced the fingers. "She said that you had enough to deal with, with getting work back up and running and everything else." I shook my head. "I've been a really shitty father," I said. "I should have seen this happening. I mean, I knew Mels wasn't getting any more accepting of her situation. I just never expected she would turn on her own child so readily." But I had, that logical part of me said. I'd seen the way Melanie had started trying to control Carrie the moment she'd hit puberty. Constantly making off-handed comments about what the teen ate. Or how she dressed. The way she would suggest the two of them have a "girls' day", but when they would return hours later, only Melanie seemed to have enjoyed herself. Carrie, on the other hand, always looked like she had been through an emotional wringer. I'd noticed. But I'd never really seen. Too busy with guy thoughts and guy things. Especially since the evenings after those particular days were filled with multiple bouts of incredible sex. "I'm a horrible father," I repeated. Kara stood up and walked over to me, wrapping her arms around my waist as she turned her cheek and pressed her face against the top of my breasts. "No," she said. "You are a good person. Which means you assumed the person you'd picked to be your partner in life was also a good person. Maybe she was at one time. I only know that Carrie has been unhappy for a lot longer than the Shift." "How can I fix this?" I asked, still feeling like a turd despite the warmth radiating from the teenager pressed against me. "Do I say something to Mels? Tell her to leave Carrie alone?" "It's past that point, I think. You might have been able to do something when you were still Doug and she was still Melanie. At this point, I think the only thing she has left is her hate. Resenting those she thinks got the better deal and making them feel miserable keeps her from having to face her own issues. She won't give them up easily." I stiffened in her embrace. I knew what Kara was hinting at, though she was far too nice of a person to actually come out and say it. Not that she really needed to. I'd been thinking the same thing for the past couple of weeks. I'd just been unable to actually admit it. Either to myself or to my children. Melanie needed to go to a Center. It was the only way she was going to get the psychological help she needed to adapt to her new life. "I'll talk to Carrie," I said, sighing softly. "Find out exactly what her mother has done and said over the years." "She might not open up immediately," the girl holding me said. "I think the only reason she did with me is because I'm not family. I was a stranger, which made it safer to say certain things." "I'll try to get her to talk to me somehow." "Just don't come at her like an angry father," Kara said. Then she giggled a little. Gallows humor. "Not that you look like one." "No," I said. "I look like a very beautiful young woman who turned out to be a lot smarter at twenty that I was a forty-eight." Kara and I stood there for another couple of minutes, neither of us talking. We just held each other, savoring the physical contact with someone we both knew we could trust. Then I peeled myself free and looked down at her. "I need to take a shower," I said. "Then maybe the two of us can talk to Carrie together." She arched a skeptical brow at me. "Actually, this is something I think you and your daughter need to work out together. As much as I'm sure you'd both want me there to help, I think the best thing is for the two of you to be completely clear and honest with each other. Without interference." I sighed and nodded my head. I knew she was right, about everything. "Okay," I said. "I'll talk to her right after I get cleaned and changed. I grabbed some clothes from the dresser and went down the hall to the guest bathroom. The door at the end of the hall was still closed and I breathed a little sigh of relief. I didn't want to have to confront Mels until I knew everything she'd done to our daughter. I didn't want to hear any lies or half-truths from the woman I'd made a vow to stand with for the rest of my life. The scalding spray stung my tender skin as I climbed into the shower. For a few seconds, I went about shampooing my hair as if it were any other morning. Then, my fingers got caught in a tangle and when I pulled on the strands, my brain suddenly flashed back to the previous evening. A gasp came out of my mouth as I began to shudder with oncoming panic. I leaned against the cool tile of the wall, pressing my cheek into the hard surface as tears streamed out of my eyes and mixed with the soapy water already running down my face. Flashes of the horrible attack sprung at me from all angles, making my heart slam painfully in my chest. His hands were on me again, sending me into a flurry of motion as I beat at the phantom sensations, trying to drive them from my mind. Eventually, the feeling of being roughly accosted faded and I slunk down the wall to sit in the shower, crying hot tears as the steaming water slowly grew colder. By the time I started shivering from the chilly torrent cascading down on my, rather than the resurgence of psychological trauma, I had cried until my eyes were itchy, dry, and sore. Reaching up with one trembling hand, I twisted the knob and shut off the shower. I pulled my quaking limb back to me and pressed it against my chest. "Get a grip, Doug," I growled to myself. "Stop trying to force yourself to be okay. You're not okay. And you probably won't be for a while." I drew in a breath, held it as I counted to thirty, then released it. I stood up and reached for the towel hanging on a nearby rack. As I pulled it free and brought it to my soaked torso, I remembered that I hadn't bothered to wash anything other than my hair. Thankfully, I'd sat under the water long enough that the red strands were rinsed thoroughly. I only hoped the constant stream of water had washed off enough grime on its own to keep me from smelling like a dirty construction worker. Wrapping the towel around my waist, I grabbed the comb from the side of the sink and began to gently pull it through my damp hair. When all of the tangles were undone, I exited the bathroom. For a brief second, I froze, half-expecting to find Mels waiting in the hallway to unleash another round of vicious barbs at me. Instead, I heard voices drifting up from downstairs. I couldn't quite make out what was being said, but whatever the topic of conversation was, it wasn't friendly. Still clad in only the small rectangle of terrycloth, I walked slowly down the steps and through the living room. The heated discussion, apparently between Kara and Melanie, was taking place in the kitchen. I paused out of sight beside the doorway and listened. "I still think you've got some serious nerve," Melanie said, her accent as thick as ever. A sure sign of her heightened emotional state. "Showing up here and acting like you're in charge." "I never claimed to be in charge," Kara said. By contrast, her own voice was much calmer, and less high-pitched, than when it belonged to Carrie. "I have only offered advice. To your children and your husband. Perhaps you could benefit from some as well." "Advice?" Mels said with a snorting chuckle. The sound instantly made me think of the piggish body she now wore. "What the hell would some twenty- year-old tramp know about anything. I mean, other than lying on your back and spreading your legs. If that's the advice you've been giving out, then I guess you are some kind of expert." There was a small pause before Kara responded. "My brother was a complete shit," she said, her tone a little less controlled than before. "However, I don't think his nastiness could possibly hold a candle to yours. You call yourself a mother. But you treat your family like garbage." "What would you know about it, slut?" Mels yelled. "Maybe you think I'm being harsh, but I don't think I should be expected to just sit here and watch as my youngest child, with her total lack of self-control, stuffs my face with junk food and other high calorie crap. At the rate she's going, she'll turn me into a gigantic blimp." Another snorting laugh. "I can already tell she's made my ass bigger in just a couple of months." There was a hiccupping sob that followed Mels' tirade. I recognized it as being Carrie almost immediately. "What the fuck does it matter if she does?" Kara responded. Her own voice had moved to a more hostile range. "It's not your body anymore, Melanie. It's hers. She can treat is as well, or as badly, as she wants." "For now," my wife snapped back. "But I've heard the government is close to finding a way to reverse the Shift. To put everyone back into their own bodies. The last thing I want is to finally get mine back and it be the size of the damned house!" "You've got to be kidding me," Kara said with a mirthless laugh. "The government has barely been able to get back to a state of functioning. As far as reversing the Shift goes, that's right up there with Sasquatch and Little Green Men." "Shut up. Just bloody well shut up!" "Mom," Carrie said, finally entering the conversation. "I'm sorry that I've ..." "No!" Kara interrupted. "You are not going to apologize for enjoying your life. You've lost most of your childhood to this situation, you are not going to be feel bad about how you live the rest of your life." "Who are you going to listen to, Carrie? This cheap whore who stole your body? Or your own mother?" I balled my hands into fists and stepped into the kitchen. For a moment, the entire conversation came to a screeching halt as the three of them turned to look at me. Each face registered some type of unexpected emotion. Melanie's chubby face turned a bright shade of crimson, as if she were embarrassed to think that I'd heard any of the previous conversation. Kara wore an expression of worry, as she were pondering if perhaps she'd gone too far in her interaction with my wife. Carrie just looked at me with a mixture of relief and sadness. Her eyes kept straying slightly to the side of my face, where I knew, from looking in the bathroom mirror, there was a giant bruise. Melanie recovered first. She sneered at me as she pointed at Kara. "You better come put the leash back on your tramp, Douglas. I don't appreciate her sticking her tits into family business." Carrie opened her mouth, but a withering glare from her diminutive mother caused her to close it right back up. I shook my head, feeling the wet strands brush against the flesh of my exposed upper back. Cognizant of the fact that I was clad only in a towel, I made sure the wrap was secure before I walked over and put my arm around my daughter's waist. "Melanie," I said, forcing myself to look into those beady, angry eyes. "I don't appreciate the way you've behaved toward our child since the Shift. What I appreciate even less, however, is the way you treated her before then. I should have seen it, but I was too busy with my own worries." I turned my head to look up at Carrie. "I'm sorry about that, Pumpkin." "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Melanie stomped toward Carrie, who flinched and pressed herself closer to me. "Have you been telling lies about me?" Carrie looked from her mother to Kara. The other girl nodded, sending Carrie's gaze back to the pudgy boy standing in front of her. "They weren't lies, Mom. You said mean things about my weight. Or my hair. Or the way I dressed. You constantly belittled everything I was. Or did. I just didn't have the strength to say no before." "I was trying to help you," Melanie sneered. "You were obviously just too goddamn stupid to realize it." "That's enough," I said, moving forward a bit so that I was closer to Melanie than Carrie. "That's enough?" she parroted. "Don't act like you suddenly got your balls back, Douglas. You didn't give two shits about helping raise our children. Sure, you brought in a generous income, but it was me who bandaged their skinned knees and listened to the hours of endless whining about boys. So don't do thinking that just because you've got a set of boobs and a vagina that you know shit about being a mother." I shook my head. "I know that berating your children, making them feel inferior or ashamed, isn't good parenting." She shook her head. "You're so damned clueless. You weren't much of a man before the Shift, and you're even less of one now. All that crying and sobbing. Just because some guy got grabby and a little rough?" She cackled. "How about this, Dougette? Why don't you go downtown and find some guy to give you the serious fucking you obviously need. Then, after he knocks you up and you go through the hell that is childbirth, you might have some leg to stand on to task me on good parenting." "Mom ..." "Shut up, Carrie," Melanie snapped. "I'm talking to your ... father." Her mouth curled into a malicious grin at the last word. Punctuating the fact that I was as far from being my child's father as I could possibly be. "So, how about it, Douglas? Going to trot that slutty body of yours down to the nearest street corner and have a shag? If you need pointers on acting trashy, you can always have your little friend show you the ropes. A whore like her probably knows a hundred different way to ..." I was looking right at Melanie, and still didn't see the slap. Kara's hand shot out and retracted with such speed that I honestly had to blink a few times to convince myself that I'd actually seen it happen. Of course, the effect of the action was beyond perfectly clear. The sound of flesh on flesh echoed around the kitchen as Carrie drew in a gasping breath. Mels' eyes were wide as saucers and one fat hand pressed itself against her cheek, which was already turning a brilliant shade of crimson. Tears welled up in those stunned eyes as she turned her head to look at Kara. The girl in Carrie's teenage body shook her right hand a few times, obviously trying to get the stinging to subside. However, her eyes remained focused angrily on her little brother's body. "That's all the shit from you I'm going to listen to for one day, Melanie." Kara raised her other hand and pointed at Carrie and I. "You have spit on the only two people who care about you for the last time." "You slapped me," Mels said, still cradling her cheek. "How dare you put your hand on me in my own home?" Kara leaned forward, glaring right into the smaller boy's eyes. "One more snide comment from you, and I'll put you over my knee and spank your ass until you can't walk. I've done it to that ass you're lugging around more than a few times. The only difference being, this time I wouldn't regret it." Melanie took a step back from Kara, the fire and spite fading from her expression. What replaced it was genuine fear. "Douglas," she said in a trembling voice. "Do something." I sighed. "I am. Something I should have done months ago." I peeled my arm from around Carrie's waist and walked over to where the house phone hung on the wall next to the fridge. There was a card attached to the front of the stainless steel appliance, mostly hidden beneath a few other business cards. I'd put it there so I could get to it easily if I needed, but not so obvious that Melanie would have seen it. Lifting the small magnet holding it against the freezer door, I held it in one hand while I dialed with the other. "Who are you calling?" Melanie asked, starting to take a step toward me. Kara moved to block her path. "Answer me!" The line rang three times before I heard the click of the connection being made. "McGuire Care Center," a polite-sounding woman said. "How may I help you?" I sighed, turning around so I could look Mels in the eyes as I answered the nice woman's inquiry. It was the least I could do. "I need to have a Care Unit come to my home," I said, feeling my chest tighten as I watched the worried expression on my wife's prepubescent face morph into one of pure terror. She began to shake her head back and forth violently. "No," she said in a whimpering tone. "Don't do this, Douglas." "My wife has not handled the Shift very well," I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. I knew that I was doing the right thing. The only thing I could do. Melanie needed help of a level that I, nor Carrie, was qualified to provide. "I feel she is a danger to herself and to others." Tears began to stream down Melanie's face as her eyes darted left and right, her flight response starting to take over. However, she didn't move from her spot. Either she was too stunned to actually consider fleeing, or she knew from watching the news that running would be a moot issue. It would only strengthen the case for Evaluation. Her small legs shook, then buckled, sending her plopping to the kitchen floor on her butt. I rattled off the address from memory, and provided the woman Melanie's basic information. When I hung up the phone, I felt like the world's biggest heel. The number one candidate for Worst Husband Ever. I wrapped my arms around my toweled torso and stared down at my pink painted toes. "I'm sorry," I said, unable to look at my crying wife. "I'm so sorry." Author's Note: Sorry this chapter seemed to take a while to write. Honestly, I wasn't sure how to jump from Doug's near-rape to dealing with his increasingly unstable wife. I didn't want to just throw stuff together and hoped it would stick. The good news is that the next installment will be a return to Doug facing more of his femininity than he has so far. As always, thank you for taking the time to read my little tale. Reviews and comments are greatly appreciated. Either here or at [email protected].