User:Leasara/Hope Awakening
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{{#ifeq: User |User| Hope Awakening | Hope Awakening}}[[Title::{{#ifeq: User |User| Hope Awakening | Hope Awakening}}| ]]
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{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Shannon Robertson | Shannon Robertson}} | |
{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}} | ||
Author: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}}]] [[Author::{{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}}| ]]
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{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}} | |
Author: {{#ifeq: User |User| Shannon Robertson | Shannon Robertson}} |
Author: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Shannon Robertson | Shannon Robertson}}]] [[Author::{{#ifeq: User |User| Shannon Robertson | Shannon Robertson}}| ]]
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{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Shannon Robertson | Shannon Robertson}} | |
{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}} | | Authors: ' |
Authors: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}}]]
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{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}} | |
Authors: {{#ifeq: User |User| Shannon Robertson | Shannon Robertson}} |
Author: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Leasara | Leasara}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Shannon Robertson | Shannon Robertson}}]]
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"C'mere, hun." There was a sadness to the plea that drew me to lie down next to my adopted sister. I had known her for some six months, chatted with her online a bit was all, but a scant eight weeks ago we had adopted each other. Now I was sharing her bedroom, sleeping on a pull out sofa bed that might have been older than me and hadn't aged near as well as I had in it's thirty years. Consider that I've been disabled for the last three of my thirty years, and you might begin to get an idea of the state of the poor love seat.
The last couple of days we had been having too much fun and it had eaten away at her sleep time, so when her love interest broke up with her from two thousand miles away, she didn't have much in reserve. She had gotten home about an hour ago, we had plans to run to the store, but she was far too exhausted to make the trek even if she couldn't tell. Having climbed onto the rickety bed where I had been writing all night, she fell asleep almost immediately. This was a slight problem, since I hadn't eaten in twelve hours and my stomach was starting to voice it's concern over this. Excusing myself as quietly as I could I snuck upstairs to make a bowl of oatmeal.
Returning with my prize, I found she had moved back to her own bed, a queen sized pillow top purchased second hand from the hotel she works for. My meal was finished quicker than I would have liked, and she was snoring softly from the other side of the room. That was when I decided our jaunt for some bedding could wait a few hours and went to turn off the light. Unfortunately, my sleeping bag is rather noisy and the commotion of me getting out of bed stirred her from her light slumber. "C'mere, hun." she mumbled, and I couldn't do anything else but comply.
She had offered to trade beds with me somewhat frequently during my stay, and now that she had finally gotten me to lie down on it, she pointed out how comfortable it was again. I suppose this is where I should tell you that, even though we were sisters, neither of us was born in a particularly feminine body. If I let that tidbit go much longer, the next part won't make much sense. In fact, that was one of the factors that had prompted us to adopt each other, the way neither of our chromosomes matches our personalities. She likes to point out that I'm further along than she is, but I don't really know that it's something that can be measured so simply.
I've never been an intimate sort of person. Some folks say it's because I've been raped twice, others think it's because my physical body is so divergent from my mental image of who I know myself to be. I don't think either of those are the root cause, but I suppose they could contribute. However, when I lay down with my adopted sister, something strange started to happen. It was perfectly innocent, I was even above the covers that she was under, but I lay there with my neck resting on her wrist and she fell asleep, then I had this ephemeral epiphany.
Suddenly everything was crystal clear, like the cogs and springs of the universe were laid out on a jeweler's cloth all neatly labeled. The laws of physics, laws of thermal dynamics, laws of biology, they were all more like suggestions. They were in place just because that's the way things had started to work at the beginning, but it didn't mean they couldn't work differently. It was as if causality itself was simply coincidence, things continued to happen as they did simply because that's the way they always had happened. Then that translated physically.
It was as though a string had been pulled that was the final lace binding me in a garment I had worn for so long I had forgotten it was there. Like water bound in a balloon that was suddenly released by the edge of a razor sharp blade, for an instant my form held, then rushed to what I perceived to be it's natural state. I felt myself slide on top of the simple cotton comforter as my shoulders and heels were elastically drawn several inches each toward my hips, which took up the slack by expanding to a gentile cradle. The shock of the nearly instant change rippled through my softer tissue, redistributing much of my mass in a moment. Then the more subtle things started happening.
With a slight tickle, my foreskin slackened before an unknown force pulled it taut, reeling in my vanishing member and allowing the glans to nestle into it's new home. My scrotum had been bisected in the process, and was pulling itself tight as fast as my gonads were shrinking. They shot over my pelvic bone with a sucking gurgle noise and came to rest somewhere deep inside me, but the gurgling only got louder. My new labia having reached their final location, the changes focused their attention inward connecting to wherever my gonads had wound up. The whole process only took a moment, a fraction of a second, but the events were as clear in my mind as though it had happened over a half hour or so. Then I made a mistake.
I tried to comprehend my ephinany. Some part of me couldn't accept this as some karmic gift from the universe and tried to dissect and categorize every little thing of what I had been shown and what had just happened. If I live another thousand years I don't think I'll lose the regret I feel today, for as quickly as my body had become the way I knew it should be, the laces were redone on my prison, and it felt even more restrictive for that moment of freedom. All that had happened was undone even faster than the few seconds the radical changes had taken in the first place.
Now I've taken an hour to write this all out, and I can still feel myself as I should be like a soldier's phantom limb. She walks right behind me again, right where she's been my entire life.