MORFS: Journey to Humanity (part 03 of 09)

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Acts of Humanity 2:

Journey To Humanity
(Part 03)
A MORFS Universe Tale
by Ray Drouillard

Matthew Jones is the only son of Randy Jones, honored deacon of the Church of Genetic Purity. He and his girlfriend, Amy Cox, have been taught from birth that MORFS is a symptom of moral depravity. While they had quietly questioned that doctrine, they were not prepared for the opportunity to find out for themselves.

Note: The violence (attempted violence, actually,) is a very minor part of this installment, but it is there.

sex: 1/10
violence: 7/10
profanity: 3/10

Categories: Male to Female, PSI

Timeline: 2060


Chapter Seven: What else? The mall.

We all piled into the minivan and headed for the mall. As we walked in, we saw a pair of teens with canine features holding hands. We smiled at them.

If we had any misconceptions about human nature, they died at the mall.

*When you can read all the idle chatter in people's minds, you lose your innocence really quick,* Jim said. *I'm still learning what is normal and what is dysfunctional.*

The first order of business was to head to the food court and get dinner. We MORFS survivors need to fuel our high metabolism. Somehow (quite by chance, of course), I ended up sitting next to Larry, and Cindy ended up sitting next to Jim. Mom, Kim, and Sara sat on the other side of the table.

Mom looked across the table at me. "I'm proud of the way you're adapting so quickly."

"Indeed," said Kim. "I rarely see people adapt to a new gender so quickly.

I blushed. Then, several different feelings welled up and fought for dominance. I felt grief, happiness, love, acceptance, and a bunch of other feelings all tangled together. I closed my eyes against the tears that welled up. "I'm adapting to a new life more than just a new gender," I said. "I have to leave behind the old stuff because it isn't coming back. Good riddance to most of it, to be honest." I opened my eyes and looked at the three adults. "My old life was headed for destruction, and I didn't even know it. I came face to face with it the day before I changed."

The memory of Amy's last day made my voice shaky. "My old life -- the life where I was blithely heading for the pit -- started to end when I arrived at that evil place and saw that pitiful figure, huddled and shaking, chained up like an animal. It came crashing down when they pulled the hood off her head."

I hung my head and sobbed softly. My mom and new friends listened quietly.

"Amy's last words were not spoken out loud. They were spoken straight to my mind. She told me that the souls of her captors was black, and that I would share their fate if I didn't escape. She told me that her life was over, and made me promise to live my life to the fullest. She told me to find a new love and teach my future children to love and not hate."

Tears were streaming down my cheeks.

"I am doing my best to do that in my new life. I'm throwing out the garbage. I'm winnowing the chaff from the grain, and burning the chaff. I'm casting aside those who teach hatred and keeping those who love me. My new life was conceived when I made that promise to Amy. I was born into my new life when I woke up from MORFS."

I looked straight at Mom's face. "There were only two people in my old life that were worth keeping. They killed Amy, and Mom saved me from sharing her fate." I took a couple deep breaths and tried to regain my composure. "I have a new life now. Mom helped me into my new life just like she birthed me into my old life. I have new friends and a new home where I am loved. I can do things that I could never do before." My voice softened. "There are advantages to being male, but there are just as many advantages to being female. If I have to give up some of the perks of maleness to get this rich new life, it is well worth the price."

I closed my eyes and hung my head. "The only loss I regret is Amy. We would never have been able to share the same relationship, but we would have been best friends. I lifted my head back up. "But Amy is in a better place now, and she still lives in my heart. I will never forget her."

Mom came around and put her arms around me and let me cry on her shoulder. Soon, I was surrounded by my new friends -- a treasure well worth every loss.

After I had recovered, we ate and chatted about inconsequential things. I felt a stab of fear. I recognized it easily this time. *Trouble!* I cast about for the source.

I found it quickly enough, and piped my perceptions to everyone, including Mom. I saw the couple with the canine features surrounded by about a dozen people in an out of the way corner near the restrooms.

"Come one, come all, come see the amazing dog-faced boy! See doggy-doo and his dog-faced bitch!"

"They should be neutered," another said. "We don't need more of their kind around." He pulled out a knife. He lunged at them, so I pushed him back. I used my TK to pull the knife from his hands and stick it into the ceiling tiles.

*I need some help with this!*

*You got it!*

Starting with the closest, we quickly knocked each attacker out by pinching off their carotids. Once they were done, Cindy talked to the couple.

*You're safe now. They're going to wake up in less than a minute, so walk away now and don't look back!*

With so many people participating in our little operation, it was easy to watch the couple and the sleeping attackers at the same time. By the time the attackers woke up, the couple was on the other side of the mall.

*If you have any more trouble, give us a yell,* I said to them. *We can't promise to be close enough to hear, but it's worth a try.*

"You guys did a wonderful job," said Mom. "I wish I could have helped."

But we weren't finished. Kim called the police.

I asked the couple to meet us. We were easy enough to find based on the description that we gave them.

Officers Trowbridge and Saouda first rounded up the attackers and had another unit take them to jail. Once that was taken care of, they retrieved the knife from the ceiling. More accurately, I TK'd it straight into the evidence bag. Then, they took everyone's statement, handed out business cards, and said their goodbyes.

We went back to chatting about inconsequential things as our food settled. I could feel the warmth of of their affection for me and each other, and I basked in that warmth. Cindy gave me a kiss on the cheek. "It's good to see you smile." Larry shyly put his arm around me. I leaned into him. I was concerned about what the adults might think, but I could feel their approval. My smile broadened. If I could have purred, I would have.

After a little while, Mom stood up. "OK girls, time to do some shopping! You guys..." she indicated Larry and Jim, "can go look at tools or something."

"Hmmm..." said Kim, "I have more than enough clothes right now. Maybe I'll go see what I can add to my tool collection."

Sara gave her a dirty look.

"I have plenty of clothes, too," I said. "and Father has all our tools. I guess I should start my own collection."

My mom impaled me with a wicked stare. "Oh no you don't! We have plans for you, Missy!"

"But, but..."

"You don't need to start your collection quite yet," Mom said kindly. "Your father is going to be in the slammer for the foreseeable future, so we should have no problem claiming the entire collection for ourselves."

Kim walked around and took my hand. "Go ahead and let the boys drool over the tools. I'll stick with you and protect you from certain overzealous people." He indicated Mom, Sara, and Cindy. "Besides, you can use my workshop any time you want. Just ask Larry to show you where everything is." She gave me a sly grin.

So that's how they dragged me, kicking and screaming, over to those sections of the mall that I used to be able to avoid.

"I feel your pain, sister, really I do," said Kim.

Predictably, they dragged me over to the clothes section.

"Really! I have plenty of clothes!"

My mother looked at me. "That is not how a teen girl is supposed to act, young lady!" She made a show of looking at me and checking out my attire. "Did you really think you could get away with being the only girl in our little group to come in sweats? We simply must remedy the situation!"

So, they had their way with me. It didn't take them very long to find a plethora of clothes. It took forever for me to try them all on, however. In the end, Mom had a few bags of clothes, including the sweats that I had been wearing. I, meanwhile, was feeling exposed in a red pleated skirt and a sand colored top that didn't even pretend to cover my midriff. Then, it was off to the makeup counter. That was one of the trappings of femalehood that I had hoped to avoid, but my tormentors had other ideas. I did listen to the sales lady's instructions, though. If I have to do something, I might just as well do it right.

Once they were all satisfied with the paint job, Mom held two ear studs to my ears. One was aquamarine, and the other was coral. Both were made out of the real thing. I had to admit that the contrast worked well with my hair and skin.

"Wait a minute!" I said, "I don't wear jewelry. Besides, that stuff only works for people with holes in their heads."

"You don't say," Mom said.

Sara and Cindy led me, like a lamb to slaughter, over to the beauty salon. I sighed and sat in the reclining dentist chair, resigned to my fate. Sara took my left hand, and Cindy took my right. *Relax, Cara. It won't hurt.*

I let them calm my mind telepathically. I closed my eyes and let my mind drift. I felt cold metal on my left ear and felt a snap, but no pain. Then, there was another snap. Then two snaps on my right ear.

*Relax. You're not done yet.*

I felt the cold metal on on the fold of skin above my belly button. A quick snap, and I was done. I got up groggily and let them lead me to a full-length mirror.

I had to admit, the jewels looked nice. The coral red and the aquamarine contrasted well with my hair and eyes. The aquamarine jewel dangling from my navel finished the look. It didn't even hurt. I guess they put some kind of a topical anesthetic in the sterilizing solution. All that angst for nothing. Pthui.

For some reason, the guys weren't in the tool section. Maybe it's because they didn't want to spend three hours there. Did we really spend three hours shopping and getting perforated? Time flies when you're... oh, never mind.

But you know, they did have some pretty cool tools there. Kim and I were looking at a nice computer guided water cutter when we felt ourselves being levitated away. *Gotcha!* chorused Sara and Cindy.

After a quick call on the eCom, we found Larry and Jim in the sporting goods section. They were just loading some serious loot when we caught up with them.

"Whatcha got?" I asked.

Larry turned toward me and his jaw dropped. I could see something... attraction, I guess. It was similar to what I saw when boys were undressing me with their eyes, but it didn't bother me coming from him. In fact, I could get used to this quite easily.

"Put your tongue back in your mouth, oh brother mine," said Cindy with a snicker.

Larry blushed. It was really cute.

"What's in the bags, Larry?" I asked.

"We can't tell you," Larry smirked.

"OK, fine! Be that way," I pouted.

"She's only been a girl for a few days, and she already has pouting down. I think she'll do fine," commented Sara.

I didn't know what to think. Part of me was pleased that I was adapting, while part of me mourned what I had lost. Mom saw the different emotions cross my face and came over and enfolded me in a warm hug.

*I'm sorry,* said Sara.

*Not your fault,* I replied. *I am what I am, and I'll get used to it faster if I bump into it more.*

Larry held his bag of loot in his left hand and took my hand with his right. We followed everyone out of the mall and to the minivan. Soon, we were rolling. Before we got home, we dropped off Jim and his bag of loot.

As Larry was carrying the mystery bags in, it occurred to me that I could peek inside with my telesense.

*Don't you dare!* he admonished.

I gave him an innocent look and went upstairs to get ready for bed. As an experiment, I used my TK to remove everything, including the makeup, from my body. It worked, but wasn't as refreshing as a shower. No biggie... I wasn't dirty enough to need a shower, anyhow.

I slipped into a neosilk nightie. Some parts of being a girl are really nice.

I covered up with a large robe that went below my knees, then went down to say goodnight to everyone. I give good night hugs to everyone, including Larry. Before I could stop him, he kissed me full on the lips.

Of course, I didn't really try to stop him.

I reluctantly broke the embrace and went up the stairs. I was asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Chapter Eight: Weekend!

I awoke well-rested. Saturday... nothing planned!

I found myself wondering what I should do with myself. Then, I remembered that I still had some school work to catch up on. I was going to do it at my desk, but I decided to be lazy. I laid back in my bed, closed my eyes, and used my TK to unpack my school backpack. Soon, I was reading through the text books and doing my assignments. In less than two hours, I was finished.

*Breakfast is served, lazy bones!* came the call from Larry.

*I just finished up my school work, I'll have you know!* I sniffed. *I'll be glad to go down and eat your food, though.* I got up, stretched luxuriantly, used my TK to push off the little bit of sweat that had accumulated overnight, donned my robe, and went down.

For practice, I tried eating with my TK. The kitty four did the same thing. Their control has been improving, though liquids are still a problem for them.

"It looks like we won't be needing to wash as much silverware from now on," commented Mom.

Once breakfast was over, we all (except Mom) made a game of cleaning up without leaving our chairs.

"Hey sleepy girl," said Cindy, "How 'bout getting yourself dressed so we can give you your surprise down in the garage?"

"And no fair peeking in the garage!" commented Larry.

"Or anyone's mind!" laughed Mom.

"Wear something athletic," added Sara.

So, I went upstairs, took a quick shower, TK'd myself dry, and dressed in shorts and a tank top that bared my midriff. I chose aquamarine clothes (aquamarine is starting to become my favorite color for clothes), and switched to the coral navel ring that Mom had gotten for me yesterday. The hole was already healed.

I looked down the staircase and didn't see anyone. I jumped to the bottom and used my TK to slow me just before landing. Mom walked around the corner just in time to catch me in mid leap. She looked at me and rolled her eyes, then led me to the garage. Larry grinned at me and handed me a bag. I opened it and pulled out a skateboard.

"I know how much you missed your old one after Dad got rid of it last year," Mom said.

The skateboard and matching helmet were beautiful. The helmet, board, and trucks were made from carbon nanotube composite. The truck assemblies had tapered roller bearings and races that were coated with ACNR, making them harder than diamonds, and wheels that are specially formulated for high traction and low rolling resistance.

Rather than the plain solid red of my old board and helmet, these have an image of a tropical island with palm trees and beautiful white sands and aquamarine shallows that fade out to a deep blue. My eyes started to tear up. "Thank you!" I said as I tried to hug everyone at once.

"OK, girl, let's see what'cha got!" Larry tossed his board to the concrete, hopped on, and was off like a shot. He went to the end of the driveway, kicked back to lift the front wheels, pivoted to the right, and shot down the street.

*Oh yeah?*

I did the same, using my TK to get moving. Cindy was hot on my tail. Jim was just coming out as we passed his house. We shot down a side street to a park that had a couple nice ramps, a quarter pipe, and a half pipe.

I shot into the half pipe, went up one side, micoredged, went back down and then up the other side, jumped, pivoted in the air, and went straight back down. The board seemed glued to my feet. I had been unconsciously using my TK to keep the board attached to my feet.

We spent a couple hours developing routines and using TK as little as possible.

The four of us went to a bench and sat down. We watched the other teens play around on the ramps and pipes. Some were better than others.

I was watching a boy of about twelve going through his routine when he slipped while trying to microedge the top of the quarter pipe. He tumbled and went flying. I grabbed him with my TK and lifted as hard as I could. He barely cleared the top of the quarter pipe as momentum carried him past it.

*Help!* I called to Larry, Cindy, and Jim. I felt them add their power to mine. Together, we lifted him, moved him to the soft grass, and gently set him down.

"Thanks, whoever did that!" he said loudly. We waved at him.

After goofing around for a while longer, we rocketed home on our skateboards. Who needs a car when you can pass traffic on your skateboard? We managed to make it home without getting pulled over for speeding. I took a quick shower to wash off the sweat, changed to my swimsuit, and went outside to lounge around the pool. The rest of the day passed agreeably. We all practiced our TE and TK, did lots of swimming, and even climbed the big oak tree in the corner of the yard. After dinner, the Martins sat down to read over the next day's Bible study. They invited Mom and me, and we happily accepted.

It was nothing like the Bible study at our old church. It was more like Amy and I used to do. You get a much clearer picture of a loving God when you don't pick and choose little bits and pull them out of context.

After we were done, we all went to the living room. We chatted, played games, and all that other stuff that normal families are supposed to enjoy -- stuff that I would do sometimes when Mom and I visited our relatives.

I decided to go to bed early and get a good night's rest.

I woke up refreshed. After a nice shower, I TK'd myself dry, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, and went downstairs to cook breakfast. Sara and Larry were already working on it, so I set the table.

After breakfast, I went upstairs to choose a nice dress for church. No such luck. Mom beat me to the punch. I went to my room and found a modest dress, nylons, and heels all laid out.

Good grief!

I briefly considered ignoring her offerings and making my own choice, but I didn't want to come off like a toddler insisting that 'I can do it myself!' Aside from the heels, there really wasn't anything wrong with what she chose. OK, so I'm not really ready for nylons. Still, I have to do them sometime.

Why do they call them nylons, anyhow? They're made out of neosilk, not plastic.

I have to admit that the nylons felt good; as did the neosilk panties, bra, and slip. The naturally dyed algacotton dress was light and comfortable, too. The heels, on the other hand, were a pain. They weren't as tall as some I have seen, but I'm simply not used to walking on my toes. It was very cumbersome until I started taking smaller steps. OK, so it was still cumbersome after I started taking smaller steps. I managed, though.

I practiced by walking around the apartment. I tried to walk without jiggling my tush, but it didn't work out. Maybe that's why they were invented. I think that MORFing the guy who invented these things into a female would be appropriate punishment. Of course, there are enough women who wear them voluntarily.

Anyhow, after I managed to learn to walk without looking like too much of a fool, I headed for the stairs. That's when my dear mother cleared her throat and hauled my little plump tush back to my room. I guess painting my face is the next order of business. It turned out that my nails didn't need much touching up. It saves a lot of wear and tear when I do a lot of work with TK instead of my hands. I guess I'll have to make a point to use my hands to keep my muscle tone and coordination from atrophying.

Once I was painted and decked out to Mom's satisfaction, I was allowed to go downstairs and join everyone else. Cindy stuck up her thumb. *Looking good!*

*Thanks,* I said shyly.

With a glance at Mom, I remembered to lift my skirt slightly, sit down demurely, and smooth my skirt back out. Larry came trotting down the stairs and plopped down next to me. I knit my brows in annoyance.

*Good morning, beautiful,* he sent to me.

How could I be annoyed with him after that? I smiled at him. *Good morning.*

"What are you guys plotting this time?" asked Mom.

"Nothing at all," I said. "It just seemed politer to talk quietly instead of filling the airwaves with noise."

She snorted.

But it was a ladylike snort.

Chapter Nine: A new experience in spirituality

On the way to church, we passed my old church. I started shaking uncontrollably as we approached. Mom took my hand. "Are you all right, sweetie?"

"I'll be OK," I said in a shaky voice.

Sara looked at me with concern. *Can I come in?*

I opened my mind to her and let her look around. Her presence was comforting.

*You're keeping a lot of stuff bottled up inside, Cara. It'll help if you can talk to someone about it.*

*Will I live, Doc?*

She chuckled, then turned serious. *You'll live, but you'll live a whole lot better if you deal with the pain instead of trying to bury it. Can I talk to your mom about it?*

*Go ahead,* I said. *There are so many new things going on in my life... What's one more?*

She talked with me for a while longer and helped me calm down. The fear was irrational, but real none the less. Sara told me that I need to set aside some alone time, think on the fear, allow it to come and have its day in the sun, then let it fade away on its own. If I do that enough times, the fear will lose its power over me.

About the time we were done, we arrived at church. A feeling of unease hit me again. My four feline friends were there for me, though. They assured me that this church is totally different from the one I was used to.

And it was.

I walked inside and was overwhelmed by the atmosphere of warmth and love. Mom held my hand when she saw the tears forming in my eyes. She looked at Sara and nodded, then led me up to the front of the church with the Martins. We sat in the second row, near the center. I took a few deep breaths and let the calm flow over me.

*Where is he deacon's section?* I asked Sara.

*There is none. We don't stand on ceremony here, or exalt one of us over another. We have elders, several assistant pastors, and a pastor. All of us consider ourselves to be servants, not masters.*

I gave her a telepathic smile. *Yet another contrast between your church and mine.*

*Your old church, you mean. This church is your church, if you'll have us. You're welcome here.*

I was overwhelmed with emotion. *Thank you!*

I leaned back in my chair and let my mind wander. I am well practiced at just observing without actually reading anyone's mind. I noticed another telepath across the aisle and about half way back.

*Welcome,* she said. *You must be Cara.*

*You know me?*

*I was just chatting with the Martins,* she replied. *It was sweet of you to help them unlock their abilities. They have been saying wonderful things about you.*

Just then, a middle-aged man got up from his seat, walked to the front of the church, and stood behind the lectern.

*I'll talk to you later,* she promised. I gave her a telepathic smile.

The music director led us in song. It took a while for me to get used to singing with my new voice, but I eventually got the hang of it. After three or four songs, an older gentleman took his place behind the lectern. The elder read the announcements. He announced several upcoming classes, a teen party, a two day couples devotional to be held at a lodge about a hundred miles from here, a sleep-over for the kids of the couples, some weddings, the choir practice schedule, the post-MORFS support group schedule, and a number of other events. He announced birthdays and anniversaries, then asked if there were any more. Then, he said, "It is our tradition to reintroduce recently morfed members. Would the Martin family please come up to the front?"

"You met Cindy and Larry last week, when their parents were in the hospital. Now, I would like to introduce to you the whole family -- whom many have affectionately dubbed, 'The Kitty Four.'"

Kim took the microphone. "On behalf of my family, I would like to thank you all for your prayers and well-wishes. After studying this condition for such a long time, it is truly a blessing to see it from the inside. It has certainly been an eventful week. Not only have we had to swap out a bunch of wardrobes, we have been learning some new skills."

*Cara and Sue, come on up, please.*

"Also, we have been blessed with some new friends, whom we hope can stay for a long time."

The church applauded as we took our place among the Kitty Four.

"Cara changed at about the same time we did. Instead of having the support of a loving family and a caring church, young Matthew faced his impending change with fear. Fortunately, Sue had the courage and wisdom to leave with her son before her husband, a deacon in the Church of Genetic Purity, got a chance to do him harm."

The church members gasped.

"Cara's father is in jail pending trial for assaulting us and murdering Cara's dear friend. Cara's courage in facing all of this -- her change in appearance and gender, the brutal loss of her friend, and the enmity of her father and the members of her former church -- has been nothing short of astounding. Still, she needs all the prayer she can get."

I looked out with tears in my eyes and saw the congregation -- stunned, full of sympathy, and radiating love.

"I would also like to thank her for helping us -- the whole family -- unlock the gifts that we received through MORFS." She stood there for a second, then handed the microphone back to the elder.

"One final announcement; There will be a pot luck lunch right after the service to welcome the changed Martins back, and to welcome Sue and Cara into the fold. Please show our newest family members how God wants His church to treat people." As we were walking back to our seats, the elder said, "Everyone please rise and greet each other."

Everyone stood up. Some stayed shyly near their seats, while others roamed far and greeted everyone they passed with a hug or a hand shake. The Martins led us around and introduced us to everyone. It was all genuine, too. A few people were cool, and a bunch of people were shy, but nobody was hiding behind a facade. This was so different from any experience I had ever had in my old church. After a few minutes, the organist went to the front of the church and started playing.

After mixing with everyone else, the elder went back to the lectern and introduced Pastor Dan. Pastor Dan called forth the elders and asked them to receive the offerings. "Don't give because you have to; give because you love God and want to return some of His blessings. If you're afraid that we'll get your money, just go ahead and keep it in your pocket. If you're a guest here, remember that you don't charge your guests for your hospitality. You don't need to pay us for ours." The organist played hymns that I recognized from some of Mom's music files.

*I noticed that there are a whole bunch of hybrids here,* I commented to Kim.

*We make it a point to welcome MORFS survivors here, and we have a ministry to help people who have had difficult transformations.*

*I feel so comfortable here,* I told her. *It's no wonder there are so many of us here."

After the offering was taken and blessed, Pastor Dan gave a very upbeat message about fighting the good fight.

"I know you don't want to hear this, but there will be trials in our lives. It's hard to be happy about trouble, but we need to understand that trials lead to growth. God is well known for taking the bad and redeeming it -- taking what was meant for harm and turning it to good. We need to follow His example."

No talk of stamping out the evil people. No talk of impending doom if we disappoint God. No talk about receiving his wrath if we happen to slip up.

"Even though it's hard, we need to grit our teeth and rejoice in our trials. When the going gets tough, thank God for putting another weight on your spiritual exercise machine and keep pushing! Through the tears, cry out to God if you must, but don't give up. The Devil can't hurt you. The only thing he can do is make you give up."

I found myself smiling. Yes, there is a reason for all of this.

If only I could get my Amy back.

But Jesus tells us to store up our treasures in Heaven. Amy is certainly a treasure, and that's where she is.

I was emotionally exhausted, but happy, by the time the sermon was over. The music director came up and led us in our final song. It was upbeat.

Pastor Dan went back to the lectern and gave us a final blessing.

The music director led us in the final verse, while Pastor Dan took off his lapel microphone, walked over to the door, and waited to greet people as they left. Not many left, though.

I sat in my seat for a while, lost in my own thoughts. Two weeks ago, my life was... just my life. I was going to school and preparing for life in the adult world, just like every other teen. Now, I'm dividing my time between counting my blessings, mourning my losses, learning how to use my new skills, and wondering what the future has in store for me. In other words, I'm one confused guy... I mean girl.

It helps when I have something to concentrate on. Those moments of clarity allow me to push away the doubt, and fears, and sadness, and just try to accomplish the task at hand. I wonder if that's why some people work so hard to fill every waking moment with... something; a task, some recreational activity, drinking, or just watching the television. But I wasn't doing that. I was sitting there in a rapidly emptying sanctuary, trying to make some cohesive sense of all those conflicting thoughts and feelings. I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Come on to the pot luck. After we eat, we can see about helping you sort everything out."

"I didn't know I was thinking out loud," I said to Kim.

"I don't think you were thinking that loud. The only reason I could read you is because we have been in each other's mind so much, and we trust each other."

I followed Kim through a short hallway and into the fellowship hall. There were a number of tables set up. Kim sat me at a table with Mom, Sara, Cindy, and Larry. Soon after I was seated, Pastor Dan asked for everyone's attention and blessed the meal.

Sara got up and took my hand. "Come on, today's our day. Let's go get some grub." The six of us went to the serving tables and started to fill our plates. A line rapidly formed behind us. I felt funny about filling my plate so much. It helped that everyone in our little group, except Mom, did the same. Our new bodies need fuel for our high metabolism.

A number of people stopped by when we were eating. They congratulated the Martins, and welcomed Mom and me to the church. A couple of the teens dropped by and invited me to today's outing.

*Come along,* said Larry. *Cindy and I are going, so we already have transportation arranged.*

I didn't know what they would be doing, but I accepted their invitation.

After a while, I became aware of some anger, frustration, and sadness. I followed the source to a family seated over in the corner. There was a girl sulking and facing away from everyone. Her mother and father were concerned about her. Her brother and sister were concerned, too, but were starting to get impatient. Without thinking, I put my hand on her shoulder and said, "Do you want to talk about it? Your mom and dad are concerned and love you very much."

"What do you know about it?" she snapped. "Do you have any idea how it feels to wake up and find that you're a g-g-g-girl?" She broke down and started sobbing.

I sat down next to her and tried to project comforting thoughts to her. I pulled her to me and let her cry on my shoulder.

*Yes, I know exactly how it feels. It's OK to cry about it.*

She sniffed and looked up at me. "You must think I'm a big sissy."

"I have cried more in the last few days than I have since I was about five," I assured her. "It goes with the territory." Silently, I told her, *You don't have to talk out loud if you don't want to. I can hear you just fine.*

*How long have you been a girl?* she asked.

*I woke up last Monday. It's been a wild week, believe me!* I thought for a bit, then added, *I probably would have taken the change a lot harder if I hadn't been distracted by some other issues, and if I hadn't come to the realization that my life as Matthew Jones was headed straight for destruction.*

*Do you like being a girl?*

I had to think that one over.

*It has its perks, but I would rather be male -- at least, that's how I feel now. I expect that to change after a while, though. We girls have plenty of perks, and my mind is rapidly catching up with my body.*

*So I should just accept what and who I am, just like Mom and Dad keep telling me?* she asked.

*Do you have a better idea?* Then, I smirked. *I don't know about you, but turning into a girl didn't take away my ability to think logically.*

She looked at me like she was going to protest.

*Look,* I continued, *I can tell that you're as smart as you were before. The stronger emotions can mess with your mind for a while, but the old thinker still works.*

*Yeah, you're right. I either adapt or spend the rest of my life being miserable.*

*That's the spirit!* I said. *The first step is to make the right decision. Then, we have to try to sort out who we really are inside. My mom and the Martins have helped me out a lot with that.*

*The Martins?* She suddenly looked at me as if seeing me for the first time. *You're the girl who was up in the front with them!*

*The same,* I said.

*You must think that I'm a real wimp! I can't imagine going through what you did.*

*Hey,* I said. *We all have our own issues. I can see the pain and frustration in your mind. It must be hell losing your manhood without getting something back to compensate.*

*Like you said,* she replied, *We all have our crosses to bear. Didn't Pastor Dan just tell us that trials make us better than we were before? Maybe that's compensation enough.*

*That's the spirit!* I paused for a second. *But, while you're analyzing your gains and counting your blessings, you still have to mourn for what you have lost. It'll take some time, but we'll both manage to sort through everything.*

*Let's trade eCom addresses,* she said. *We need to keep in touch so we can compare notes and cry on each other's shoulders. If we have to be girls, we at least ought to do it right!*

I took my eCom out of my purse and touched it to hers. We let them exchange addresses. We had been talking pretty intimately, and I just learned that her name is Carol Stinnett. Some of her accounts still bore the name Mike Stinnett.

"So, did ya get anything?" I asked. "What did the evaluator tell you?"

"I haven't been to my post-MORFS checkup yet," she replied.

"Want me to try looking? I've never done it before, but the on-line course I took told me how."

*Sure!*

*OK. Just relax and try to open your mind to me.*

There was something blocking me from probing more deeply. It was as if there was a mental shield under her public mind, rather than over it.

I looked at her. *Look at my face. OK, now listen to my mental voice, then look at what I am seeing.*

The image of her face came into focus in her mind as she concentrated on what I was looking at.

*OK, now show me what you see with your eyes.*

I saw my face reflected in her mind. Still, I couldn't get past the block.

*Now, concentrate on the images that I am sending to you.*

I sent a series of images. I sent images from around school, in the church, around the pool, during advanced gym class, and the like. I could see her emotional response shifting with the images, but I still couldn't get through the block.

*I still can't get through. I have found out that you have a regular heterosexual response, though. Don't fight it, and you'll adapt fine.*

*I still think that girls look good,* she replied.

*I know. So do I. Aesthetic appreciation is different from attraction, though. Think about looking at a beautiful flower or a beloved pet. There is no sexual attraction, but it is still enjoyable.*

I could feel her start to think about what I just told her. Suddenly, I realized that I was looking at her thought processes. I was through. I looked around and saw a very logical mind. It's no wonder having out of control emotions threw her for such a loop.

*It looks like you're a powerful electrical elemental; perhaps a technopath. If you ever wanted to get a ham license or take up electronics as a hobby, now's the time to start.*

She gave me a big smile. *That's great! I'm planning on going to college for an electrical engineering degree after high school. How can I find out how to use my elemental powers?*

*If you download a free on-line course, you should be able to get a good handle on your abilities,* I replied.

I thought for a moment, then told her, *Having a shield under your public mind means that you have to watch what you think out in the open, but it also means that you can hide things and most telepaths won't even know the difference. If you can learn to control your shield, you might even be a telepath yourself.*

*How do I do that?* she asked.

*Can you feel me in your mind? Try to push me out.*

She concentrated. Suddenly, I couldn't read any of her deep thoughts.

*Good! Now, try pushing me all the way out.*

She concentrated again. I tried to fight her, but she soon had me pushed all the way out.

"Think about how you feel now," I told her out loud. "When your shield is out all the way, nobody can read you or send to you."

She relaxed, and I could see her public mind again.

*How do I look now?*

*Great! It also looks like you sent that, rather than passively allowing me to pick it up. Try sending something to your mom.*

*Mom, can you hear me?*

I looked across the table and saw a look of startlment on her mother's face. Then, it looked like she and her daughter were having a private conversation.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Are you ready to come up for air yet?"

I looked up at Kim. *Wow! That was intense! I guess I haven't been a very good guest, though; spending all my time in private conversation with one person.*

*Are you kidding?* Kim said. *Carol came in here sulking, and her whole family was worried sick about her. Now, she's all smiles. In a very real way, you gave her a new life.*

I followed Kim down to the basement and into one of the Sunday School rooms. The telepath that I had talked to earlier was there. Kim introduced her as Myra Winters.

"That was quite some performance with Carol upstairs," she told me.

"I was just talking to her," I said.

"Have you ever considered going into psychology? A telepathic psychologist can do quite well," she commented.

"A surgeon with her level of control of TK can do well, too," Kim observed.

"I honestly never gave it much thought," I replied. "I have just been trying to catch up with my studies in high school, learn how to be a girl, learn how to use my TE and TK, and stay sane."

"That's why I brought you down here," Kim chuckled. "Myra is a psychologist, and she's volunteered to help you get a handle on your situation."

"Though it looks like you have gone a long way in that direction," Myra observed.

I smiled. "Thanks. I can use any help I can get."

Kim quietly slipped away.

"The best way we can start is for you to open your mind and let me have a look inside. Remember that client confidentiality is a sacred trust, and I take it quite seriously."

I settled back in the comfortable recliner. *OK, come on in and poke around all the dusty corners. No telling what you're going to find, though.*

I felt her poking around unobtrusively. She had a very light touch. I suspect that I wouldn't have even known she was there if I wasn't telepathic myself.

She started talking to me and transmitting images to me. She later explained that she does that to watch my reaction to various words, situations, and images. She showed me around my own mind -- telling me where I was doing well, and leading me to a few areas that needed work. She showed me some exercises that would help me find my real core being and align it with my new body and situation. She assured me that the process is already well on its way. When we finished, she typed a few things into her tablet. A few seconds later, she grabbed a printout and handed it to me. She diagnosed me with PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder), survivor guilt, and a minor case of temporary post-MORFS gender dysphoria. She explained to me that the 'temporary' part comes from the fact that my new body is encouraging my mind to become fully female, and that the only thing slowing things down is my old habits. The printout also contained a list of exercises that I need to do. After explaining them all, Myra came around the desk and gave me a hug.

"Can you send Carol down to me, please? I need to help her with her transformation, though it appears that you have made my job a lot easier."

"OK, I'll go get her."

I went upstairs and called out to her telepathically. *Hey, supertech! Doctor Myra wants to sift through your brain cells. She's downstairs.*

*Sift through her brain cells?* Myra asked me with a chuckle.

Carol gave me a quick hug as we passed each other. *Hey, sister morfie,* she said, *I'll catch you later.*

Mom was over by Carol's mom, so I walked over. Carol's mom got up as I approached, then wrapped me in a warm hug. "Thank you for giving my daughter back to me!" She was practically in tears.

"All I did was talk to her and find her power. I think she's really geeked to be a technopath."

"Oh, Cara, you have no idea how hard it has been these past few days! She was acting like her life was over!"

"She's a very strong person, and really bright. She thought she was faced with an insoluble problem -- and she was. She and I will be girls for the rest of our lives. I just had to show her that she's the same inside, and that life can still be good." I thought about Carol and smiled. "She's really a very impressive girl. I think we're going to be good friends."

"I always liked Mike, too," Cindy commented as she walked up to us. "I think I need to get a few girls together so we can initiate you and Carol into the sorority with a good old-fashioned sleepover."

"Hey, I've never been to a sleepover!" complained Kim.

"You and I can have our own private sleepover at a nice luxury hotel that night," said Sara.

Kim gave a feral grin. "OK, you have a deal!"

"Just give me plenty of warning so's I can make myself scarce," said Larry.

"You don't have to go through all that trouble, brother dear," said Cindy with a smirk. "We could always make you an honorary girl!"

"That's what I'm afraid of!"

Cindy giggled, then explained, "The last time he hung around, we abducted him, did his hair, painted his nails, and dressed him up."

"He came out very pretty," commented a girl that had walked up a minute or so ago. "I bet he'll be even prettier with those kitty ears and that tail."

"Hi Linda! Want to come to a sleepover at our place? We're going to indoctrinate Cara and Carol to the wonderful world teenage femininity!"

"Why do I get the distinct feeling that I should run and hide?"

Cindy put her arm around me. "Come on, cute stuff! You'll love it!"

"Be afraid, be very afraid," said Linda.

"Aw, come on, Linda! You know you had a great time when we initiated you last year."

I looked over at her. "MORFS?"

She smirked. "Yep. I used to be Joe, but I got worked over by the bug. It's been... an interesting ride." She came over and put an arm around me. "Don't worry; it gets better. If I had to go back to being male, I'd be bummed."

"I think your boyfriend would be bummed, too," commented Cindy. Linda blushed.

A few more girls wandered over, and soon the air was filled with the sound of giggling as we plotted and planned our sleepover. I noticed a couple boys on the other side of the room looking wistfully at us. *They morfed into boys a few months ago. They took it hard, but they're starting to adapt,* Cindy told me.

*Does our church tend to attract gender change morfs, too?*

*Yes, we seem to be a place of refuge for just about any type of difficult transformation. If I recall, Linda's parents were pretty much at their wits' end before they came here,* Cindy replied

*That's what I like to hear; a bunch of chicks chattering.*

"Hi Myra!" we all chorused.

*Carol's coming up. Be sure to make her feel welcome!*

*Thanks,* I sent to her.

*You're right about Linda being an electric elemental and a technopath. Most electrics that are highly intelligent are technopaths, because the technopath part requires lots of processing power.*

*Did you have any trouble getting past her shield?* I asked Myra.

*There is no way I could have gotten through if you hadn't gotten her to relax and taught her how to let me through.*

I used my remote vision to watch Carol come up the stairs. *Don't look now, but the rest of the girls are plotting to initiate us.*

When she came up the stairs, I beckoned to her. "Hey there, techno-chick! Come over here and help me before all these girls come up with too many ideas."

She smiled and walked over. She surprised me by giving me a hug. "Thanks for helping me get my head screwed on straight!"

I hugged her back. "Hey, just trying to increase the size of my support group."

After much discussion, we decided to hold the sleepover next Saturday night at the Martins' home.

After a while, Mom, Kim, and Sara went home. We just hung out until it was time for the youth group to meet. The youth group was more like an informal gathering of teens at school than anything I have ever experienced at church. There was no false righteousness, pretentiousness, or stuffiness. In short, we had fun.

Tired but happy, I hit the hay early. I had been informed that my presence was required at court for a bail hearing. The prosecutor is moving to deny bail, and our testimony will help prove that they are too dangerous to be running loose. I'm all for keeping them locked up for good. There's no telling what they would do while they were free awaiting trial.

(end of part 03)


The entire MORFS  Universe can be found at http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/
More writing and photography by Ray Drouillard at http://ray-d.deviantart.com/
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Comments

I wish I could have helped?

I wish I could have helped? Now wasn't there a saying... :)

Oohhh! Being levitated away from something is really upping the ante compared to being merely dragged away! :P

And I disagree about the irrationality of fear. It's not irrational in my book to fear people who you know stoned their daughter to death in front of her boyfriend in a display of hatred, then tried to kidnap the fearing one in question.

Faraway


On rights of free advertisement:
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Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

Faraway


On rights of free advertisement:
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Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

Fashion History

Aljan Darkmoon's picture

…because I have a bit of time on my hands at the moment. :)

Why do they call them nylons, anyhow? They're made out of neosilk, not plastic.

Because the first synthetic material ever used to make hosiery was Nylon. When DuPont developed Nylon in the 1950’s, one of their clever marketing types decided that, since Nylon was developed to be an inexpensive silk substitute, hose was the way to introduce it to the public. Needless to say, they had a wildly successful ploy. Naturally, the name “Nylons” stuck.

I think that MORFing the guy who invented these things [heels] into a female would be appropriate punishment.

A lot of women would agree with that, but in fact the first heels were commissioned by a woman. No one really knows who invented modern heels, though the chopines and pattens after which they were modeled were already in existence. The consensus among fashion historians, though, is that Catherine de Medici commissioned an unknown shoemaker to design something that would augment her stature and allure, which she could wear to Paris to marry King Henry II. Her shoemaker’s results can be seen by searching Catherine’s full name and “heels.”

The heels, on the other hand, were a pain. They weren't as tall as some I have seen, but I'm simply not used to walking on my toes.

Yes, heels do tend to throw the wearer’s weight forward. There is much false advice on the Internet, though, that wearing heels properly means balancing on your toes. Actually, the correct heel-wearing posture is to lean back into your heels and focus most of your weight over them, leaving only enough weight for your toes so that the soles of your shoes do not slip out from under you. Incidentally this causes you to arch your back, which thrusts out your breasts.

I practiced by walking around the apartment. I tried to walk without jiggling my tush, but it didn't work out. Maybe that's why they were invented.

Men walk from their shoulders; women walk from their hips. A woman’s wider hips means she must swing them to walk properly. Heels cause hip swing to be exaggerated—in fact, in taller heels, if you don’t swing your hips, you will fall on your arse. If you want to see how to walk in heels, watch a fashion show and see how the runway models do it.

Heels and stuff

Thanks for your comments, and the extra information.

Remember that what you read are the musings of a young changeling in 2061, not the musings of the author. Most people know that nylons are made out of nylon. At least I hope they do. But in 2061, that will be a part of history.

When we start making hosiery out of neosilk or something similar, will they change the name? Almost surely. Will people continue to call them 'nylons?' I'm guessing that they will, at least for a generation or two. Just like the fact that my great grandma used to call the refrigerator an 'ice box,' and the electric bill was called the 'light bill.'

I didn't know the details about how heels became fashionable for women, so that was new news to me. I did know that they were originally made for men. Also, cowboy boots have high heels to keep them from slipping through the stirrups.

But why are high heels so popular now? Probably because they give women shapely legs. Certain muscles are tensed up more, adding shape. And there's the whole hip swinging thing.

Thanks again!

P.S.
I love your kitty picture.