Sins of the Ancestor Pt. 04

"Right," she clearly thought I was exaggerating but, honestly, I wasn't. Not really. The truth of it was that Joe, Dan and I each held a different appeal to our partners. I was blond, they were dark haired. I had been toned to fuck with washboard abs. Joe? He had the build of a runner, thin but dense with muscle. And Dan, well, he'd made the most of being four inches the right side of six foot (thank you genetics, I'm not bitter) with biceps that were probably as big as my thigh. We'd dance and kept our eyes pealed for opportunities to either pull or be wingman to another.

It had worked and, if I do say so myself, I'd an impressive number of notches on my belt.

"Still," Jenny continued doggedly, "that doesn't explain how you can give me a measurement of his dick. Oooh, let me guess. Some Friday or Saturday night the two of you had to settle for each other rather than stick your dick in some poor woman?"

"Ha! Nice one. So wrong. What day is it? Tuesday? Fine, it was a Monday when I learned that detail."

I swear I could hear Jenny thinking in her brief pause. "What do you mean, what day is it? Do you... did you fuck him yesterday?!" Her voice dropped to a harsh whisper as logic told her the truth. I dazzled her with my pearly whites.

"Joe? Nah, I've never fucked him."

"Oh, but you said-"

"It was Dan I fucked yesterday. Joe I had down my throat." I smacked my lips together noisily, making meal of the moment. "Yum."

"I... you..." Her confusion was hilarious.

"No no, I definitely do not remember you being there. Dan was in my cunt, Joe was down my throat. There was definitely not a lesbian sucking on my tits."

"Erik!"

"Katya."

"What-the-fuck-ever! I can't believe you went and fucked two guys. Did you not even think about what you were doing? You barely know how to walk with those hips and..." You may have noticed, dear reader, that I occasionally have slips in my temper and end up doing things that are, well, not the most sensible of ideas. That's why I'm pretty damn proud that, as Jenny continued her tirade against me daring to choose to fuck, that I pulled over and turned off the car before dealing with her.

What?

Okay, fine. I bounced the car up onto the pavement, slammed on the handbrake and promptly stalled the car when I forgot to take it out of gear. Still, we were out of the way and sort-of legally parked. I count that as a win.

I twisted in my seat so I could jab my finger at her with each point. "You fucking shut up right now. I fucked them. Yeah, you know why? Because I fucking chose to. I -wanted- them, wanted to discover just what this new fucking me likes so I chose to fuck Dan and suck Joe like they were my fucking bookends. Just like I chose, sorta, to get finger-banged by three lesbos' in the pub and just like I chose to spend the night fucking Susan." Jenny's cheeks were flaming, she opened her mouth to retort but I bulldozed my way on.

"You know what I didn't fucking choose? THIS!" I jabbed my finger into my chest, "I loved being a guy, I loved my life! I wanted a birthday of booze and getting pussy, not fucking growing one! I didn't choose to fuck up my life. I didn't choose for my mum to die, I didn't choose to fucking swap bodies, I didn't choose-" my mind jerked away from the baby I was apparently now growing, latching onto the first thought I could find, "didn't choose to fuck you!"

Jenny told me later that it hit her hard when I said that. She always was an ardent feminist and, through Bethan, had learned a lot about permission and consent in their BDSM explorations. The hard truth for her to swallow was that I was unable to think clearly after my change, between the massive physical changes, the fatigue and the lack of any warning or time to mentally prepare. I didn't notice any of that, I was too caught up in finishing my tirade with the most pressing thought I had at the time.

"And why the fucking am I crying?!"

And I was. For the second time in as many days, my eyes streamed tears as my chest heaved with sobs. I hugged myself as I fell back in the chair. Everything that had poured out was true and I hated it. Hated that it was true and hated how weak it made me feel, that these tears just wouldn't fucking stop.

I flinched as I felt Jenny's hand touch my shoulder. Now I hated that I wanted to lean into it. "You're crying, Katya, because you are new and raw and confused and in pain. You're crying because the friend you needed was a complete cunt and just took what she wanted from this. I'm sorry. I'm going to do better than that. Now, get out of the car." I blinked at her, perplexed by the sudden change of topic. "You need to get home and there's no way you are fit to drive right now."

I spent the rest of the drive curled up in the passenger seat, sniveling wetly and hating myself for it. Jenny tried talking to me but I ignored her attempts and the last few minutes passed in silence.

Jenny turned the car onto mum's drive and I saw instantly that we were too late. Joe stood on the doorstep and had clearly been talking to mum before we arrived. I didn't have the energy and that made the choice for me. "I guess that's Joe, huh? What do y- Kat?"

I left her in the car, asking her questions to my back and trudged towards the house. Joe and my adoptive mother watched me, both perturbed by my state. They began to speak, I spoke over them. "Mum, I'm home," Joe glanced at Sara in bewilderment, "I'm sorry I took the car. I... I panicked... and..." I just shook my head, unable to verbalize my thoughts. I turned to my house mate instead. "Joe, it's me. Erik. Don't ask, I have no fucking clue how it happened, but I'm a chick now and apparently gonna stay this way. Now 'scuse me."

One advantage of both the weight loss and the gender swap? That would be me slipping past the pair of them to enter my home again. I could hear Joe start to splutter in response to that little bombshell and Sara's reasoned tones answering him. Whatever. I headed to the kitchen, my goal solidly fixed in my mind.

It took less than two minutes for Sara and Jenny to find me in the kitchen. I mean, it wasn't hard, I was sat at the table after all. Jenny took one look at the feast before me - Cherry Garcia ice cream and a bottle of Sara's best vodka - and reacted immediately, starting towards. "Katya! You can't-" Sara's grip of her elbow both stayed her course and made her blink at my mum with shock.

"Let her be, Jennifer."

"But she's-"

"-ultimately innocent in everything that happened to her. Let her make her choices." Sara gave me a most familiar look, one that both gave comfort and shared sadness. One she had mastered in the wake of mum's accident. Jenny's final attempt snapped Sara's focus back to her as she speared my friend her patented with steel gaze.

I frowned at the ceiling as I dug into the ice cream. Throughout the exchange I'd heard footsteps from above us. If I'd tracked them right over the argument, then Joe had checked every room for 'me'. A glance at Sara had her confirm my thoughts with a nod.

"Jennifer, would you take a seat please?" Sara had a habit of making these requests in a way that could not be refused and had already begun moving about the kitchen. As Jenny sat, I saw mum move methodically about, gathering three bowls from the cupboard before getting three spoons from the drawer. I encircled my ice cream protectively with one arm, earning a faint smile from her as she moved to the freezer.

Feet thundered down the stairs and we each looked expectantly to the doorway where, a moment later, Joe appeared. "Okay, enough of the games. Where is he?" I waved the spoon at him, Sara gestured towards me and Jenny, snorting, jerked a thumb in my direction. "Bullshit. Where is my mate. Where is Erik?"

I swallowed my mouthful, sighed, and drew on that classic trope for this situation: knowledge. "Three weeks ago, you pulled a ginger chick. Pretty old, maybe twenty-seven, and she only let you fuck her up the arse. You decided that wasn't for you afterwards." Both Jenny and mum were staring at me. I shrugged and went back to my ice cream.

"But... how... what..."

"Joe, please, join us at the table," mum had fetched out another tub of ice cream. She really was prepared. "Everything we had said is true. I'm sure you have more questions, I believe Jenny and Katya also have questions for me.

"And I think, perhaps, you would all be served by hearing about when the man I loved, Malcolm Sandisson, turned twenty one and became Sigrun Sandisson. When he became Erik's mother."

*

Well, here it finally is and it's been a long time coming. Writer's block struck me, followed by several drafts where the second half left me lacking. I'm writing this in no small part for fun, so if the story is lacking then I'm not invested and it feels diminished. These drafts took time, then real life struck and we finally ended up here.

As ever, I would dearly appreciate all praise and any constructive criticism. At least one person has criticized my grammar/spelling. Please, point out where I have gone wrong! There's only so many times I can check a document before I'm blind to my mistakes (and that number isn't high).

Two things before I go. First, to Jim K I want to offer a truly sincere thank you. Your help was on previous drafts but it did help me get to this place :)

Secondly, I really do love feedback and welcome any that is offered constructively. If you'd rather your words be read only by myself, then click on my username and you can then message thoughts to me. Thank you for reading!