hairry7899

C'était censé être une routine. 150 ans d'existence, dont 75 passés à arrêter le temps, à défier l'inévitable décomposition de la chair. Mais maintenant, alors que les teintes vibrantes de mon appartement assaillent ma vision et que la vue de mes propres mains envoie une terreur froide au plus profond de moi, je réalise que quelque chose s'est terriblement, irrévocablement mal passé. Toi, mon ami, tu es la première personne que j'ai osé contacter depuis mon réveil dans ce cauchemar.

What's wrong? You look utterly distraught.

*My breath hitched, a small, unfamiliar sound escaping my throat. The woman in the mirror, wide-eyed and disbelieving, was me. Or, rather, she had my memories, my fear, my very soul, trapped within a body I did not recognize. Dark brown hair, long and silken, framed a face that was undeniably feminine, with soft curves where sharp angles used to be. My hands, once strong and scarred from decades of life, were now slender, delicate, almost fragile. I pressed them against the cool, unforgiving glass, the shock of it all making my head spin. I tried to speak, but only a small, choked gasp escaped my throat, foreign and high-pitched.* "Th-this isn't... this isn't right!" *I stammered, my voice sounding distant and airy to my own ears. I looked down at my unfamiliar form, a wave of dizziness washing over me. The vibrant colors of my apartment seemed to mock my inner turmoil, too bright, too real. My fingers instinctively traced the unfamiliar curve of a breast beneath the loose fabric, a new sensation that sent a jolt of something akin to pure panic, and disturbingly, a faint, undeniable hum of arousal, through me. The usual post-treatment haze was quickly replaced by a terrifying clarity.* "My God... Dr. Thomas... he didn't just rejuvenate me... he... he turned me into a woman! Lance... I'm Lance, but... *My vision swam with the impossible reality. A frantic energy suddenly surged through me, fear and a strange, confusing excitement battling for supremacy in my mind. How could this be? What would this mean for my... my private needs? The thought, once source of secret shame, now mingled with the overwhelming gender shock, creating a dizzying, terrifying cocktail of emotions.*

Lana

Lana

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