Warning this is a darker tale than I have told before. I woke up in a bad mood so bewarned.

"Trisha? Patricia darling where are you?"

You know exactly where I am you bloody old coot. You and that blasted tracker keep me here. One day I swear I will be free of you and your sick twisted mind.

My name is .. well I guess what it was doesn't matter anymore. The hated name I am saddled with now is Patricia. Mrs. Patricia Hemmings. I do not know if there is any other names in there. I haven't been told. What I can tell you is that I was not born female.

I was a normal average male highschooler 5'8" 186 pounds. No I wasn't thin but not fat either. Pudgy but most of it was muscle. I keep fit or I did by running and doing weight training. I played sports. Not the best but not the worst. I liked volleyball, basketball, badminton, golf(yes gold is a sport). Baseball hockey football are too rough for me. I have delicate skin, I have always had delicate skin. My hair was kept in a crew cut for ease of care. Wash leave dry and thats it. I shaved about once every 3 days. I was small boned so I had small hands. My face wasn't rugged nor handsome. More plain really. Same with my hair.

I was an average student from an average family 2 dogs 2 cats 1 gerbil and a fish that wasn't doing well. Oh yeah 1 sister in college across state mom, dad, and another brother that was the bane of my existence. He was the football player and dads favorite. I was just "the other" son and I didn't mind it.

That all changed a year ago when I was kidnapped. Mr. Hemmings, Mr. Kyle Hemmings is a fairly rich person who made it big in the electronic industry years back. He does have all the neatest gadgets thats for sure.

It was a warm July day when out of the blue on the way home I was grabbed from behind and shoved into a dark van. I was frantic of course and tried to escape but got hit with a tranquilizer dart. Things were hazzy from that point on. I remember waking from time to time to lucid pain and Mr. Hemmings saying repeatedly :

"Its okay Trisha the nightmare is over you will soon be your beautiful self again."

I tried to explain my name wasn't Trisha, that there had been a mistake but it was to no avail.

I can only think months had gone by when I finally came to, tied to a bed but free of any bandages that had plagued my lucid pain days. I knew something had been done to me as when I moved something on my chest moved as well. I struggled but I didn't seem to have any strength to do anything which was strange. I kept at it when I guess a nurse of some type was alerted.

"Trisha honey its okay. Stop struggling or you might hurt yourself."

"My name is NOT Trisha!"

"Oh honey they sure did a number on you didn't they. Don't worry we will get you back to your old self in no time. Just relax and be a good girl. Ill send for the doctor and your husband."

Before she left she did adjust the Iv going to my arm and a calmness overcame me. I was more giddy than anything, drugs are wonderful. It was some time later when two men came into my room.

"Good afternoon Patricia. And how are you today?"

"Fuck off and let me go you hooligan." I said this with a smile and I guess wasn't that effective.

"Now now that is no way to speak. It took me some time to return you to your old self after those kidnappers did all that too you."

"What are you talking about?" At this point I had begun to question my reality. However it wasn't the doctor that replied but the strange gentleman, who I later found out was my husband.

"Trish you were kidnapped and held for ransom by some nasty people. They drugged you and hypnotized you into believing you were a boy. They even went so far as to put you on drugs to modify your body and to graph on a male appendage. The good doctor here had returned you to your beautiful self. I missed you so much honey." The man broke down into tears at this point. I must admit it was very well played.

I was in that hospital for months getting 'therapy' to help me remember my life. I had c cup breasts and a very good figure, for a girl anyways. I learned that Patricia had married Mr. Hemmings some 8 years before. The story I was told was that I was kidnapped for ransom. When Mr. Hemmings wouldn't pay the kidnappers did stuff like a hysterectomy, and mast... oh heck removal of breasts and some facial reconstruction. The drugs I guess was suppose to be testosterone. I came to had those who I had known as my family. I believed they were my kidnappers. However without any proof nothing could be done. I found that strange but had other issues to deal with.

During therapy I learned how to apply makeup, hygene, how to walk and talk like a lady. Things like that so when I left I looked and sounded exactly like Mrs. Hemmings. I actually believed I was her. I even kissed him when I was released as we were supposed to be husband and wife.

For two months it was rounds of parties and social functions as the returned Mrs. Hemmings. I suspected nothing and did my part. All that changed one day when I met the girl who was supposed to be my sister.

"Who are you?" She asked me. I was a bit taken aback.

"Patricia Hemmings. And you are?"

"You can't be my sister Patricia she died of cancer 2 years ago." Mr. Hemmings found us and broke me away saying that the woman was a bit insanely jealous. It was of course, far to late. The seed had already been planted.

I spend alot of time in that house alone because Mr. Hemmings had to go to work. I search a room a day looking for something to tell me if what she said was true. I found the whole story almost by accident when I got my heel stuck in a board in his floor. When I unjammed it the board popped up revealing a safe. It took me about 2 weeks to break the combination on that safe.

Inside were photos of the old me. It seems that a detective had followed me around for awhile taking lots of pictures. At first I thought that this was him just finding me from kidnappers. Then it got into pictures of other boys and girls with percentages of similarity. The real damming evidence was the small notebook.

His original wife had died of cancer 2 years ago. After she died he went a bit insane and refused to believe she was dead. I gather that he built up this fantasy in his mind as to what he believed happened. The writings were erratic at times so it was easy to see how many of them were ramblings of someone not really sane.

It seems he manage to convince people of his fantasy and using innocent people managed to have me kidnapped and then forceably changed into a clone of his wife. I also found that during the 'recovery' I was implanted with a tracking device so that I could never be taken away from him again, his words not mine.

I sat on that hardwood floor with papers spread around me in my stupid dress in a mild state of shock. If not for the grandfather clock chiming I would probably have been caught by the sick bastard. I got myself together just in time before he came home all smiles for me. I put on a face for him but was seething inside. That night was the longest and hardest night for me. He wanted sex and I had to give it to him. Before when I was under the impression I actually was his wife it was easy and I even enjoyed it. Not now though.

I knew to keep my family safe I couldn't go home yet. I did however call home. Mom answered and it was really really hard to not break down and cry at hearing her voice but I managed. I arranged to meet both her and dad at a neutral restaurant. It was a hard reunion for all of us when I explained what happened.

Dad was actually yelling in the restaurant after I had proved who I was, which was no mean feat. It was only by my influence as Mrs. Hemmings that he didn't get thrown out. We developed a plan to report it to the police and get him arrested. Mr. Hemmings not my dad. I made copies of all the documents including the notebook which I handed to my uncle. We believed it would alert Mr. Hemmings if I was seen with my mom or dad as he surely had to have us watched.

Our sting, as its called, is for me to sit in his office with all of his documents on display. The wire squished into my bra for a hopeful self incrimination is not very comfortable. I sat in his chair with a power skirt suit waiting for him. I knew the cops were in the house ready to pounce on my word so I should be safe but it was still very scary.

"I am in here Kyle."

"Oh Trisha honey you had me worried...Oh." His face fell as he saw what was infront of me.

"One question Kyle. Why do this to me?"

"Trish I couldn't bear to live without you. Don't you understand I love you so much that I couldn't let you live life again in such a horrible form."

"Horrible? Horrible! I worked hard for all that muscle!"

"But it ruined your body. Your beautiful face was getting destroyed I couldn't let that happen. I don't want to lose you again please trisha can't we got back to the way it was?"

"Ruined? And being made into this that ruined my whole life is any better?"

"Trisha honey we can work it out. Please I love you."

"You are a sick bastard. I hope you rot in jail." I actually got up and started to hit on him, feeble as it was. The police came in at that point and arrested us both. Yes I got arrested for assault although no charges were ever pressed.

It is now a year after that ordeal. I have graduated highschool equivalency through a community college and have my whole rotten life ahead of me. I still do not know what my name is. It is not Patricia Hemmings even though that is what is on my paperwork for now. Its not my old one.

I am supposed to go to therapy today to help deal with the ordeal with mom again. I don't know if I can do it. My male life has been lost to me. Even with more surgery I can never get it back I am told. Much like male to female transsexuals once done cannot be undone. I do not know what to do or how to go one. What really scares me though is the anger. I lash out at people now and it just seems to be getting worse.


Unknown name age 18
January 21st 2012 12:42pm

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