Twisted Throwback, part 10 of 25

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I gave in. I was annoyed at how overprotective he was being, but another part of me was secretly pleased about it, too — that it showed he really thought of me as a girl.


Twisted Throwback

part 10 of 25

by Trismegistus Shandy

This story is set, with Morpheus' permission, in his Twisted universe. It's set about a generation later than "Twisted", "Twisted Pink", etc. A somewhat different version was serialized on the morpheuscabinet2 mailing list in January-April 2014.

Thanks to Morpheus, Maggie Finson, D.A.W., Johanna, and JM for beta-reading earlier drafts. Thanks to Grover, Paps Paw, and others who commented on the earlier serial.



Once she started going in a specific direction instead of driving around randomly, Morgan got me home pretty quickly. I thanked her, got out and went inside.

“Hi, honey,” Mom said, looking a little surprised. “I just messaged you a while ago asking when you wanted me to pick you up.”

“Sorry, I didn’t see it. We studied for a while and then we hung out and talked, and Morgan gave me a ride home. Where’s Mildred?”

“In her room... the rest of the house is a little too cool for her right now.”

I went up and knocked on her door. “Come in,” she said.

“How was school?” I asked. It was really warm in her room, probably over eighty degrees.

“Maybe not quite as horrible as Friday,” she said, glancing up from her tablet. “But that’s not saying much.”

“Kids still being mean?”

“Yeah, only more careful to whisper mean things where the teachers can’t hear them. The principal has somebody randomly checking on Mr. Tate, so he’s on his best behavior for now, and Mom thinks I should stay a while longer, but I don’t trust him.”

“What about Natalie and Irene?”

She gave a little sob. “Natalie’s trying to be nice, but... she’s deathly afraid of snakes. She can’t stand to be near me. In the classes where I was sitting next to her, she begged the teachers to separate us, and they moved me to the front corner near their desks where nobody wanted to sit. And she’s messaged me a couple of times, but...”

I sat next to her on the bed and hugged her.

“And Irene’s just being really weird about it. She was kind of grossed out about it Friday, and didn’t want to sit with me at lunch — or maybe she just wanted to sit with Natalie more than she wanted to sit with me. Today she said she was sorry, and she was acting a little nicer, but she keeps staring at me, and it makes my skin crawl. My scales. Whatever.”

“I know,” I sighed. “I get a lot of staring too. Probably not as much as you, but a lot. And some mean comments, but the teachers have been better about shutting them up than at your school.”

“So... you went over to Sarah’s house, right? What did y’all do?”

“We studied for a couple of hours, and then we just hung out and talked, and ate too many nachos.”

“Huh. I used to like nachos, but now they just seem kind of bland. Not that I’ve actually tasted any since my Twist, but I don’t really want to.”

“Kind of like me and boy clothes.”

“Kind of.” She smiled a little.

Mom called us to supper then. “Where’s Uncle Jack?” I asked as we served our plates.

“Your uncle messaged me this morning,” Dad said, “informing me that he would be camping tonight in Cloudland Canyon.”

“Remember I’m picking you up after after school tomorrow,” Mom added; “don’t forget and get on the bus.”

“Why?” Mildred asked, and Mom told her about the name change.

“And then, once we’ve got the name change processed, we’ll need to take you to Rome to get a new driver’s license.”

I realized: “Oh, no! My new driver’s license photo won’t show what I really look like!”

Dad looked bemused. “That may be a problem. There are special driver’s license annotations for Twist accommodation, however; very likely someone from the Twist clinic can advise us.”

“I’ll have to wear a high-neck blouse and a lot of makeup the day of my driver’s license photo,” I fretted, “and get my hair done... Do you think a stylist could fix it the way it already looks, looking at me in a mirror to see what she’s doing?”

“I hope so,” Mom said. “It seems difficult, but it should be possible. I’ll take you to the salon tomorrow or Wednesday.”

“Not tomorrow, please — I promised Lionel I’d come over tomorrow, and I don’t want to put him off again.”

They looked at each other for a few seconds in that telepathic way parents have. “Be careful, Emily,” Dad said. “For a young lady to visit a male friend’s house, and be in his bedroom, even if you are only playing VR games or enjoying pleasant conversation — it is not fitting, as it was before your Twist. It would be best if you remain in the living room or other common areas, where his parents can chaperon you.”

“I’m not going to be alone with him,” I said, “Vic’s going to be there. And his game system’s set up in his bedroom.”

“I am sure he can move it to the living room, perhaps with assistance from Vic or his parents. I will speak with his father or mother directly.”

I gave in. I was annoyed at how overprotective he was being, but another part of me was secretly pleased about it, too — that it showed he really thought of me as a girl.


Tuesday after Calculus, I told Morgan I’d sent a message to Kerry, and promised I’d let her know if Kerry found out anything.

“And — I’ll see you again later in the week, I reckon. I’ll probably be spending a lot more time with you and Sarah and Olive if you’re okay with that, but I need to eat lunch with my old friends today.”

“That’s cool,” she said. “Like that guy that wanted to talk to you yesterday, what’s his name, Nick?”

“That’s Vic — Victor Gordon. We’ve been friends since elementary school.”

“He’s was in some of my classes last year, but I don’t really know him. He doesn’t speak up much.”

“Not in class, anyway. But he’s cool.”

I told Olive the same as we were leaving Modern History, and I looked around for Lionel and Vic when I got through the lunch line. They were in their usual place, and I sat down next to them.

“Hi,” I said. “Sorry about yesterday.”

“It’s cool, man,” Vic said. “It’s not like we own you or anything.”

“Dude, what did you tell your dad about what we were planning?” Lionel asked me. “I don’t know exactly what he said, but he called my mom and talked to her for like half an hour, and then she grilled me for half an hour about you and your Twist and stuff. And then she told me I had to move my game system into the living room if I wanted to play when you came over, cause you weren’t supposed to go into my bedroom.”

“Yeah, my mom and dad are kind of protective now that I’m a girl, I guess. Dad was saying a young lady shouldn’t be in a young man’s bedroom, even if they’re just playing VR games.”

“But you aren’t really a girl,” Lionel said, and I was too stunned to react, too hurt to think of anything. Before I recovered my wits, Vic said:

“Dude, leave her alone. She thinks like a girl, she wants us to think of her as a girl.”

“Sorry,” Lionel said, but it was obvious he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be sorry for. “But — it’s weird they’d be so suspicious. I mean, if I brought my girlfriend home, if I had a girlfriend right now, I can see how they wouldn’t want us alone in my bedroom, but you — does your dad really think I’d —?”

I interrupted, not wanting to know how he planned to finish that sentence. “It’s not you in particular, I think. It’s just — he doesn’t think we’d do anything, but he wants to make sure nobody else thinks we did anything, either. Does that makes sense?”

“Sure,” Vic said, but Lionel took a big mouthful of pizza and didn’t say anything for a while. Then we started talking about Phantoms of Phobos, and books and movies, and the tension I’d felt after Lionel’s obliviously hurtful remark gradually faded. A different kind of discomfort took its place: I was reminded that I hadn’t played a VR game, read a novel, or seen a movie since my Twist. I hadn’t even read any short stories except the ones assigned for Literature. How much did I have in common with my lifelong friends anymore?

After Literature, I went to the gym again. Coach Guardini saw me and said: “This way, Miss Harper,” and led me through the coaches' office and down a hall to a door marked WOMEN’S SHOWER.

“Always knock and make sure no one’s in there before you go in — the coaches have agreed to let you use it for a few minutes at the beginning and end of sixth period, but on game days visiting coaches might be using it, or other staff members who don’t know about the arrangement. After you’re done showering today, stay a few minutes until the boys' locker room is clear, and I’ll escort you in there to get your old things.”

I knocked, and called out: “It’s Emily Harper, here to change for P.E.” Nobody answered, and after a confirming glance at Coach Guardini I went in.

I changed into my gym clothes, feeling nervous, and realized with dismay that I should have brought a couple of good clothes hangers to hang my blouse and skirt on. I’d always stuffed my boy clothes into the locker during P.E., but these I cared about not getting wrinkled. I tried to spread them out smoothly on the bench, and set my book bag and purse on top of them.

By the time I got done, almost everyone else had finished changing and was sitting in the bleachers listening to Coach Guardini talk about the rules of basketball. Most of the kids in my P.E. class had seen the new me in one class or another, but not quite all; and none of them had seen me in a halter and shorts. As I found an empty seat near the edge, I heard several guys commenting on me:

“— turned out pretty hot, right?”

“Cute, maybe — I wouldn’t say hot, but definitely cute.”

“Dude, that’s really a guy, are you gay?”

“Nah, 'course I wouldn’t do her, but she’s nice enough to look at.”

I looked around but couldn’t tell who it was that thought I was hot and who thought I was just cute. Even the latter comment made me feel really good, almost enough to insulate me from the insults and mean comments of several others, both boys and girls.

After the last stragglers from the locker rooms had joined us, and another five minutes of lecture, Coach Guardini split us into four teams and had us play two games of half-court basketball. I wasn’t any better at it than before my Twist, but not any worse either, not like people who’d gotten a physical Twist and weren’t used to their new bodies yet. I managed to make one goal in the first quarter, and successfully blocked several passes and what probably would have been a goal if I hadn’t gotten in the way.

If the other kids in class hadn’t seen me in shorts before, and some of them liked what they saw — what my trick made them see — I hadn’t seen them in shorts since my Twist, either. The evidence from Dr. Oldstadt and Dr. Wentworth’s tests suggested that I probably wasn’t attracted to girls anymore, at least not as much, but I hadn’t until now felt a strong attraction to guys either. Looking back, it seems obvious that the only guys I’d spent much time with were my cousins and a couple of old friends who were almost like brothers — and, in class, I was more narrowly focused on the teachers and what they were saying than before my Twist. Now, though, I was surrounded by guys wearing shorts and sweat-soaked sleeveless T-shirts; and some of them were clearly paying attention to me for reasons that had nothing to do with whether I had the ball or was likely to stop them from passing it. I found myself looking at them, too, and focusing more on the tall, handsome guys like Ted Jackson, Rob Dyer, and Rory Chan than on whoever had the ball.

They were nice to look at, but at the same time, it was a little scary to feel that visceral evidence of another way my Twist had changed me. And before long, both the pleasure of looking at hot guys and the apprehension that this pleasure entailed were overshadowed by something more immediate: the painful pressure from where my unwanted bits were tucked away in my panties. That wasn’t the first erection I’d had since my Twist, but the others had been right when I woke up, when I was wearing a nightgown and nothing under it; a disgusting reminder of how wrong my body was, but not nearly as painful as this one. Between the pain and the disgust, I was too distracted to either notice the hot guys around me, or to concentrate on the game.

I was glad when it was over and I could go shower and change. I knocked at the door of the women’s shower and called out, and nobody answered, so I went on in, undressed — in a hurry to get out of my panties — jumped into the shower, and turned on the cold water without the hot. I shivered under the cold water for a minute or so, until that horrible thing was thoroughly subdued, before I turned on the hot water and washed off. I kept my eyes closed through most of it.

I dried off and dressed in a hurry, hoping nobody would come in. If they did, would my trick make them see a naked girl? Or did it only work when I had girl clothes on, since it had started working when I first tried on girl clothes? I didn’t want to find out the hard way. Once I was dressed, I went and looked for Coach Guardini.

“I think there are a few boys still in the locker room,” he said. “Sit and wait a few minutes.”

I got out my tablet and checked messages, and worked on my homework for Mandarin. After a few more boys came out of the locker room, the coach stepped in to look around, came back out, and said the coast was clear. I went in and got all the stuff out of my old locker, looking at it with distaste. I almost threw it in the trash on the way out, but I decided all except the underwear could go to Goodwill along with the other boy clothes at home.

Mom’s car was waiting in front of the school when I got out there; I went over and got in, and after sitting for a few minutes in school traffic, we were on our way to the courthouse. We had a bunch of paperwork to fill out, and then a long wait before the judge was ready to see us. He glanced over the paperwork we’d given the clerk, then asked Mom if Dad knew about my name change and approved of it, and she said yes — she showed him a letter Dad had written and signed. Then he told us I’d have to wait four weeks for the change to be finalized.

“It’s just a formality in your case,” he said, “but with adults, we have to check and make sure they aren’t using a name change to evade debts or something. We’ll post your intention to change your name on the county website for a month, and when nobody objects — it sounds like nobody could have any reason to do so — I’ll sign your paperwork and you’ll be done.”

“So I can’t get a new driver’s license until then?” I asked.

“I could write a letter to the Department of Driver Services for you; maybe they’ll let you get a new license right away. But I wouldn’t be surprised if they insist on waiting.”

“Please do,” Mom said.

After that, Mom dropped me off at Lionel’s house. I went up the porch steps and rang the bell, and his mom opened the door after a few moments.

“Cyrus?” she asked, looking uncertain.

“I’m going by Emily now,” I said, trying not to show my discomfort at being called ‘Cyrus’.

“Hmm. Yes, Lionel told me about your Twist...” She turned and walked past the sofa, where Lionel and Vic were sitting wearing VR helmets and gloves, and pushed the pause button on the VR console. “Lionel! Your friend is here.”

Lionel and Vic pulled off their helmets and looked at me. “Hi, Emily,” Vic said.

“Hey!” Lionel said. “Ready to join us? We’ll save that game and start another one, let you get started designing your character. Have you seen the character design demo?”

“No,” I said. “I’ve been kind of busy.”

“Lionel,” his mom said, “you should offer your guest something to eat first.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Uh, Emily, do you want anything?”

“Sure,” I said. “I just spent two hours at the courthouse, and haven’t eaten since lunch.”

Vic and Lionel took off the gloves and we went into the kitchen, where we looked in the refrigerator and cabinets for snacks and drinks. I knew my way around Lionel’s kitchen as well as my own, I’d spent so much time at his house over the years, but it was obvious his mom wasn’t sure how to deal with me; she followed us into the kitchen and asked me if I needed help finding anything.

“No, Mrs. Ellis,” I said. “I remember where everything is.”

“So... Lionel tells me that you weren’t affected much by your Twist at first, but after two or three days you started dressing up as a girl?”

I glared at Lionel for a moment. What had he told her? Did he not get it? “The Twist gave me a girl brain,” I said, “with all the little personality changes that go with that. I didn’t understand it at first, I just knew I wasn’t comfortable with my body or the clothes I was wearing; it took me a couple of days to figure out I was a girl and how I needed to dress and act.”

“Ah... I see. I’m afraid Lionel didn’t explain it very clearly. Your father’s explanation was a little unclear, as well.”

“Oh. Well, I’m pretty much a girl now.”

There was an awkward silence. I wondered when Mrs. Ellis was going to leave us alone, but she made no move to leave the kitchen, and when we took our bags of chips and bowl of popcorn into the living room, she followed us, sitting in a chair at the other end of the room while Lionel, Vic and I plopped down on the sofa.

I was sitting between Vic and Lionel, and after what I’d discovered that afternoon in gym, I felt a little awkward about that. Not that I was particularly attracted to them, as I’d been to some of the well-built guys in gym — Vic looked nicer than Lionel, but neither was in great shape, nor was I to be honest. We all spent too much time reading and playing games — or at least I’d spent too much time playing games before my Twist — to get as much exercise as we should. But still, sitting a few inches from them on a sofa, instead of in separate chairs in a classroom or lunchroom... it felt a little too close.

Lionel started telling me about the character creation process, in between bites of popcorn. “It’s mostly like in Phantoms of Phobos IV, but there are a lot of new skills to choose from, and more template characters to customize from...” I remembered how the Phantoms of Phobos games had a set of template characters, each of whom had a different backstory that would affect how they interacted with the humans and aliens and ghosts they met on Phobos, but you could customize them with different skills. I wasn’t as interested in the game itself as I’d been before, I was really here just to spend time with Lionel and Vic, and I decided I’d take one of the female template characters as-is and not do any customization.

“Just tell me about the female template characters,” I said. “Is Kiera Yossarian still there?”

“Yeah,” Vic said, “and all of the girl characters from the previous game except for Idris. Then there’s Rita Quinn, she’s a hotshot pilot, and Doreen Minh, who’s the niece of Tran Minh from the first game in the series...”

“I think I’ll play Kiera,” I said. “I’m ready whenever y’all are.”

I’d never allowed myself to play a woman or a nonhuman in any VR or tabletop RPG before, knowing that I might be Twisted. I’d heard horror stories about kids who’d Twisted while playing and turned into their characters, physically and in at least one case mentally; I was scared of that happening to me, even though I knew the odds were really low. Now that I was a girl, I wished I had Twisted while playing a girl character, so I might have gotten the kind of body I desperately wanted now — but would have done anything to avoid, back then. Kiera Yossarian seemed, from what I remembered, to be the most realistically feminine of the template characters in Phantoms of Phobos — not a guy with boobs or an exaggerated sex object like too many of the female characters in games designed by men.

Vic and Lionel talked about what characters they were going to play, and when we’d eaten as much as we cared to, we put on the helmets and gloves and started. I picked Kiera from the character list and skipped through all the customization steps as fast as I could, and moments later I was in the viewport lounge of a space liner making its final approach to Phobos. I looked around, and recognized one character from a previous game among the strangers. I started talking to him, but it was soon obvious he was neither Vic nor Lionel. Then there were a couple of flickers and two guys appeared over near the coffee machine. One was Peter Tsung, whom Lionel had said he might play; Vic hadn’t said he was going to play Oscar Theron, but I knew that had to be him since he was the only other one who’d flickered into being like that. I suddenly blushed when I remembered how Kiera and Oscar’s backstories were connected...

“Ms. Yossarian,” Lionel-as-Peter said. “We meet again.”

“Good evening, Mr. Tsung,” I said. “It’s good to see you again, Oscar.”

“You look as lovely as ever,” Vic-as-Oscar said. I was suddenly much more interested in the game, and more nervous about it, than I’d anticipated.



Apologies for the lateness of this chapter; things have been hectic. I hope the next chapter will be more punctual (or even early if there are lots of comments) but I can't promise anything for sure.


If you've enjoyed this and the other free stories I've posted here, you may also enjoy these novels and short fiction collection -- available from Smashwords in ePub format and from Amazon in Kindle format.

Wine Can't be Pressed into Grapes Smashwords Amazon
When Wasps Make Honey Smashwords Amazon
A Notional Treason Smashwords Amazon
The Weight of Silence and Other Stories Smashwords Amazon
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Comments

pain from erection

I get that sometimes ...

DogSig.png

Is Emily interested in

Is Emily interested in playing the game, or interested in being flirted with, even if it is in a virtual environment.

Maybe she just might get her

Maybe she just might get her wish and while playing the game, she will have another twist episode that will make her fully female as well as looking like her play character?

I Don't Believe That's Possible...

...under the Twisted universe rules. Just one twist to a customer, so to speak. And though some Twisted people get two tricks along with their transformation rather than one, they've already tested Emily and determined that she's not one of them.

Eric