Have you ever tried writing smut when you're surrounded by family 24/7? It's pretty damn awkward. Anyways, new snippet is up. Unlike the others, this is actually a part of a longer scene, which needs a bit more time due to the aforementioned situation.
--- A VERY SPECIAL UPDATE: PART 1---
Ferris shot up, spreading her legs apart as the pain faded away once more. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out as she gazed in horror upon her new sex. She grabbed the bed frame to steady herself as she tried to process the latest in the string of changes that had been attacking her for the last dozen or so minutes.
What was happening to her was fairly obvious by this point, the real questions lay in the details. Why, for instance, was this happening? Was the boat the cause behind this, or was there some other force at play. If the former was true, then that opened a whole can of worms about the old man who'd sold her the boat in the first place. Had he been aware of what would happen to her when she entered the cabin? He was a shriner, so was this some perverse ritual?
A muffled thud from above redirected her attention towards the ceiling.
Those two idiots must've knocked something over, She thought bitterly,
Now where was I? Oh yes, secret gender-bending conspiracy run by senile old men in fe- Wait.
Ferris stiffened.
I heard that.
Her knuckles turned white as she tightened her grip on the bed frame. The implications of the sound echoed in her mind, conjuring up the specters of memories. One memory in particular stood out.
It was 3rd grade, back when she was still he. Ferris had transferred to new school late in the year due to his dad's promotion, and in three days he'd been there he'd yet to make any friend. He was grabbing his lunch from his locker when he'd been cornered by three older boys. Their faces and names had been blurred by time, but he remembered them asking him to help them out, to share his lunch with them because they didn't have any. Even then Ferris had known it was a lie, but what could he have done about it? As they loomed over him and Ferris sunk deeper and deeper into his locker, the lead boy said something that had resonated in Ferris.
You're a good boy aren't ya?
It was an utterly innocuous phrase, and yet it devastated the younger Ferris because it echoed what his mother and father had always told him to be. Good boys do the right thing. Good boys help others out. Good boys share.
So Ferris did what good boys did, and gave his lunch away. Looking back now, Ferris suddenly saw how that single moment of selflessness, of
weakness, had altered his life. Because those three boys had told their friends, who had in turn told their friends and so on, about the new kid who was always willing to give away his lunch, because that was the right thing to do. Over time Ferris's 'generousness' branched out. Giving away his lunch turned to doing homework for others, and lending a few follars here and there led to spending his entire life's savings on a boat. All because he was a
good person.
Ferris's head throbbed painfully, and for a moment she felt as if she'd been transported back to that fateful decision. The tall boy loomed over her, wavering in and out of existence as he posed the question.
You're a good boy aren't ya? The boy's voice was as distorted and twisted as the smug grin on his face.
The air around Ferris's right hand seemed to waver as it tightened into a fist.
No.
The taller boy reeled back as he was smacked upside the head. The two other boys were frozen in place as Ferris lunged at their leader, wielding the lunchbox like a multicolored club.
----
Ferris's mental reconditioning will continue sometime next week, I think.