Leela Brown and the Mutant Apocalypse.A tale of survival, multidimensional romance, transformation and the puppies of war.
By H'eidi Knight (c) 2014
Introduction
Hello again!!This story is a sort of Part Two/continuation of the transgender love fairy tale 'Sarah Knight and the Fawn Princess' and contains some of the same people and settings. You may want to scan the original tale if you haven't read it, though I do recap within the text of this 'tale' for those who would rather not.
For you who have read the original, I hope this new story will bring fresh revelations and insights to a tale that missed out a lot that occurred during the 4 days it took to transpire.
My real life partner, with the passion for movie quotations, photographic memory and evil genius I.Q. has lent a hand with this half of the tale ... despite moaning she barely appears in it.
For those who share her annoying habit of dropping movie quotes into real life conversations and then waiting to see if you spot some obscure Orson Welles' line from a movie you've seen once 10 years ago, Sarah has inserted a number of movie quotes into the text.
Email your guesses to thothtarot@hotmail.co.uk ... winners will get a section dedicated to them!
Australia's own awesome Jayson, spotted Ming the Merciless' wedding vows in the epilogue of Sarah Knight and the Fawn Princess.
Sarah insists that this section be dedicated to him with the following line .. "Be still my dog of war. I understand your pain. We've all lost someone we love. But we do it my way!" Thank you Jayson! Sarah says extra points if you know that one without looking it up on google! xx (Note: Don't ask me, I am clueless about this one!)
Copyright: I, Heidi Nighy, being of sound mind and uncertain body, do hearby declare the following tale is my original creation. I have the scars to prove it. You may read this text and happily send it to friends and loved ones, so long as you don't sell or distribute it for profit without written permission from me. The pop culture references, role playing games and movie quotes belong to the various original creators. No intention to suggest they approve of this transgender romance tale is implied by that use.
Donations: Nifty exists on the hard work and dedication of their massive archive team. If you value the freedom of the internet and the presence of resources such as this one, please consider chucking a few dollars/pounds/hen's teeth in their direction. Donation buttons are never more than a click away!
Thank you again for reading and thank you for all the positive, loving and amazing feedback you've been showering my email inbox with. I'm trying to answer it all and will. Sorry if I'm running a little behind. Each message has been so lovely and supportive. I wish the world was filled with more people like you guys and girls (and girls who are guys, and guys who are girls!) xx
HeidiJan 2014
Part One: THE LONG DELIRIOUS SUNDAY
Armageddon had arrived on schedule. Saturday Lunchtime, the Year 2999, the eve of the millennium and all the worst fears of the doomsayers and prophets had come to pass. By Sunday lunchtime things weren't improving.
From the safety of my hiding place I looked out onto the smoking radioactive wasteland filled with the mutated ghouls. They shambled past me, only inches away from where my tasty female flesh rested. If discovered, I'd be a rare treat for them. At 16 years old my uncorrupted body, clad in a shimmering dress of light purple fabric, would make a hearty feast for a family of semi-dead.
"Wait here!" my companion growled a command. "I will return with food, or not at all!"
He was a feisty survivor called Rayon, an anthropomorphic canine warrior from a lost platoon. With the body no larger than an 11 year old boy's, his head was that of Jack Russell terrier. A Dog faced solider, the last of doomed puppy experiment. He readied his laser pistols and inched out our hiding place.
"Be careful!" I whispered desperately at him. He didn't listen. He had been bred without the luxury of those human emotions of fear and caution.
"Is caution an actual emotion?" my other companion questioned me with affectionate sarcasm. She had read my mind with her uncanny powers. She sat wreathed in shadows at the darkest part of our Sanctuary. "Surely caution is just a collection of survival reflexes that manifests itself in a heightened state of awareness and in a set of protective behaviours."
"Be quiet!" I cautioned her.
"You know only you can hear me, Leela." she said with laughter in her voice. "I am ghost caught in the fabric of your reality." Indeed the Canine Commando, with his genetically boosted hearing, had heard nothing of her words. He slithered through the harsh wild grass at the edge of the mutant territory and I soon lost sight of the bobbing camo army pack strapped to his back.
I sat up, my long blonde curls falling like luxurious waves around my bare shoulders. I took a crimson ribbon from my pocket and tied them back in a business like pony tail. My ghost stayed sitting in the shadows. Only in the twilight could she exist. She had warned me that a mere touch of sunshine would disrupt the delicate magic that held her to me.
"Isn't there anyway we can be together?" I asked. I fancied I could sense a change in her at my words. The darkness seemed to gather a little closer about her.
"I am of another world, a different time and place .. beyond your understanding." she said sadly.
"Is it wrong that I long for your touch?" I asked, my hand involuntarily tracing a line down between my breasts to the top of my groin. I regretted my erotic forwardness almost immediately.
"No, it is never wrong to desire another." she reassured me.
She stood up, the shadows around her seeming to drift away from her ghostly form. They left her a being of naked perfection in the half light of the Sanctuary. I found it impossible to look away. I fumbled behind myself and pulled the fastening that held the door closed against the radioactive winds. My senses racing I stood and walked forward. My left hand tugging the shoulder straps of my dress, the right hand grasping the material at my breast. "I need you so badly!" I said. I felt a desire to plunge into that deep pool of shade that held her.
"I know, even across time I can sense your longing." she took a step toward me. I could make out the shape of her slim figure. The high breasts brushed by the long dark hair. The sleek stomach that sloped down to the wispy hair across the pubis. I knew I couldn't touch her, but my emotions didn't understand that. They raged at the gates of my mind, demanding entrance and satisfaction.
I took another step forward, suddenly feeling a cracking sensation like energy dancing across my skin.
"What is it?" my ghost asked.
"Something in the air between us," I said. "A strange sensation of power."
"The Reality Bridge ..." she gasped. "This is unexpected!"
"The what?" I demanded, feeling a sense of panic as the sensation across my skin intensified.
"It is a junction between our different space-times." she said. "Be careful, it may have unexpected effects on us."
"Will it allow us to touch?" I asked. I was willing to risk almost anything for human contact in this hell hole of mutants and monsters.
"It might ..." she stepped toward me and we watched the air itself begin to sparkle. I groaned as the energy entered me. Racing along nerves and finding routes to my pleasure centres. My ghost moved forward, her small hands reaching through the tangles of glowing light that swirled around us.
"Its beautiful!" I gasped.
"I never expected us to have physical interaction." she said. One delicate finger brushing down my cheek. My face began to glow at the pressure of her. Whorls of luminescence that swam over me and lit my whole skin. I felt her hands pulling my dress away, my bare breasts ached for her to grasp them. She didn't leave me waiting for long. I pushed further into the light and stretching my head forward against the flow of energy I found her lips. Our kiss crossed space and time.
"Great Mistress of the Spaceways!" I swore. An orgasm took me with unexpected speed and power. Every nerve across my body flared in pleasure that bordered on obliteration.
"If this is foreplay, I'm a dead man!" my ghost gasped, sharing the wave of pleasure. "A dead man?" I asked in a sudden panic. I looked down at her groin to reassure myself my ghost was still the girl I had fallen for.
"It is a line from a film, a popular entertainment from the late 20th Century!" she said softly. "Be careful, the reality bridge may cause some wildly unpredictable shifts and transformations."
"I sense it .." I said. All across the interface a chaotic feedback of power seemed to be building. "What should I do?" I asked.
"We need to ride it out, if we back out while it is cycling upward the shock might destroy us both!" My ghost explained.
"How do we 'ride it out'?" I asked desperately. The pleasure sensations now seemed to be tearing at me like little rabid weasels.
"We need to have sex!" My ghost explained. "Only wild cross-dimensional love making can save us from certain destruction!"
"Thank god we can!" I screamed. The Government, that had been foolish enough to start the nuclear apocalypse, had imposed draconian laws of consent for young adults. No sex before the age of 30 had been the commandment. Now the fools were simply free floating atomic dust drifting through the shattered rooms of Londinium's Hall of Parliament. With no Sex-Police to stop us we stood a chance of escaping this wild multidimensional feedback.
"Let us embrace!" My ghost pulled me toward her and we felt our bodies slithering together in the energy vortex. The power cycled up another notch. It felt like a hundred hands stroking frantically at my body, slipping over and around me. Gravity ceased to have any meaning and we floated like a couple in an ancient Marc Chagall painting. "Will you give me oral pleasure?" I begged. My ghost nodded and we adjusted our positions inside the energy. My head now resting on the softness of her pubic hair, I felt her tongue begin to explore the folds of my sex. Gently at first, then with increasing passion. I moaned the name she had told me, Sarah. I reached around to her buttocks and gripped them. My fingertips digging into her firm muscles. The power ran through our DNA like a tidal wave. Rewriting us and redefining our structure. Suddenly and against my will I was masculine. Sarah gasped in surprise as an erect penis replaced my cherished femininity. "No!" I sobbed, trying to search for the key to return to the real me. Sarah lovingly continued to pleasure me. Now accommodating my length with her clever fingers and quick tongue. Reality begin to unwind. Sarah's form bathed in pure light before me. I reached down between her thighs and discovered that the trans-dimensional bridge had wrought the same change on her. Without thinking I took her into my mouth and we matched each other's movements in a symphony of mutual joy.
"Stay on target!" she cried. Breaking from her mouth's embrace of me for a warning. I could feel the energy and my orgasm building together. All my senses seemed to settle in a place deep inside my hips. An energy center that contracted into the smallest of spheres. I felt my identity itself unraveling.
The Universe exploded in a cascade of warmth and atomic chaos.
I found myself able to breath again. Long breaths that made my chest heave. I was wearing a bra I discovered to my relief, but my breasts felt strange. They rested on my chest like tight balls of fabric. My hand moved through my pubic hair to discover the penis I didn't want still resting there. At the moment of ultimate chaos I'd cum. I could the feel the dampness across my stomach, thighs and hand. The last waves of the orgasm that broke time and space flickering through my pleasure centers.
Instead of the hidden sanctuary, I am lying in a blue fabric tube. My long blonde hair is still tied back in that long crimson ribbon. My shimmering purple dress lies beside me. I sigh ... long and bitterly. Reality has been sundered by that orgasm, memories begin to slide together and acknowledge where and when I really am.
My name isn't Leela Knight, last girl survivor of the apocalyptic wasteland of 2999. I am Lee Colin Brown. A 16, nearly 17 year old boy. It is 1999 and I'm on holiday in Cornwall with my parents and younger brother. Last week I was bored, unhappy and killing time on a family vacation I hadn't wanted to be part of. Dragged along because my parents hadn't quite trusted me to stay at home for two weeks on my own. Possibly they feared I'd not eat and accidentally starve to death. After all, I am physically thin to point of looking like a forsaken waif.
They couldn't have feared I'd be throwing wild parties either. The most crazy thing my friends and I get ever get up to is gather in my front room once a fortnight to drink bottles of pop, (Note for American readers: that is the English slang term for soda.) We talk and play a tabletop roleplaying game called Vampire The Masquerade.
Vampire the Masquerade isn't anything kinky, well not the way we play it. I am sure other people probably use the game to play out a dark psychodrama of sexual and political machinations. In contrast, we tend to natter a lot about television, American comics and movies. All the while my friend Steve attempts to get us to engage in the ongoing sagas of a group of completely imaginary characters. We've cooked up these people up between us, using rules in a bewildering collection of books. Steve hauls these down to my house each fortnight because I have the biggest front room.
Roleplaying games are a sort of parlour version of let us pretend. People sit around a table rather run around outside (like healthy kids, my mum occasionally comments). Each person controlling a fictional character in a universe dreamed up by the game's master. My gaming group consists of myself, Steve and our three friends, Amy, Clea and Lucy.
Yes, I admit to have I've fallen in and out of lust with all three of the girls since we all became friends at the beginning of senior school. I've never plucked up the courage to ask any of them out on dates however. The closest I've ever come to a physical relationship with them is the platonic kiss goodnight I get as they leave my house.
In the game they control the fictional personas of three powerful vampire women. Making and breaking alliances with the other vampires in this fictional world. Roleplaying games are brilliant, a vivid make believe were the only restrictions on what can happen are the rules to keep things fair and balanced.
There is no rule for gender. You can create your fictional self to be either male or female. It doesn't matter. I tend to play female characters, actually... truth, I always play female characters. When pressed on the matter I like to say I enjoy the challenge of roleplaying the opposite gender to myself. The real truth, I enjoy the secret thrill of imagining I am one of the girls. One of the dark, gothy, cute and impossibly unobtainable girls. Sometimes your brain gives you REALLY big hints, but you don't listen.
Suffice to say, that would have been the most extreme social get together I'd have inflicted on my parent's quiet little Suburban Shrewsbury home. No actual bloodless victims of vampire frenzy feeding would ever have been discovered, except on paper, but my parent's didn't want to risk even that.
So, Cornwall, two weeks in the sunshine at the place we've come so frequently to that my whole family are in danger of developing the soft sing-song accent of the West Country. Out of protest I'd spent the first three days of the holiday with my nose in a book while my parents tried in vain to lure me onto trips out to local beauty spots. Who cares about beauty spots when they are 16 years old? Exactly.
I had my books to keep me company and when the family had left for the day, I had my libido to stop me from getting too bored. Science fiction and masturbation were going to be the twin themes of this two week Cornish extravaganza.
On the lunch time of the fourth day I had an accidental meeting with two sisters. We collided lives in a secluded beauty spot. Okay, I admit it, beauty spots, not that bad. It was a collision that swept away my cynicism for those letters in my adult magazines ... you know the sort. "I was using the washroom at a motorway rest stop when a woman walked in accidentally. 'Oh, isn't this the ladies?' she said. 'No," I rumble, in my deep masculine voice.. 'But let us have sex in a cubicle!' etc etc etc." Yes, total rubbish. I've never suspected anything like that EVER occurs outside of the imagination of copy writers for adult magazines.
I'd figured the first time I would see a naked woman, outside the photo spreads in those magazines, would be when I finally got the courage to ask a girl out. There would be a protracted series of dates, finally culminating in some far future disrobing in a semi-darkened bedroom. This would all occur when I was about 35 years old, based on my current confidence levels around the fairer sex.
My meeting with Sarah and Claire was bizarre, unexplainable in normal terms. It felt like I had entered some fantastical sexual twilight zone when they discovered me in a slightly compromised position. Okay, okay ... some of you, the readers of my previous autobiographical effort 'Sarah Knight and the Fawn Princess' (see Nifty Archive under Transgender/Magic Sci Fi) maybe actually laughing out loud at the phrase 'slightly compromised position' ... I can't get away with using that term, can I? I was dressed in a girl's blue swimsuit (one piece, not bikini) and wearing a pair of black ladies pantyhose/tights. Most 'normal' human beings, discovering a scrawny 16 year old boy dressed like this, would either run laughing in the opposite direction or give the boy a stern piece of their mind. By some impossible stroke of cosmic luck I was 'happened upon' by possibly the only two human beings that did neither of those two options.
Instead I was invited into their world. Claire and Sarah were beguiling, amazing, intelligent, attractive, funny, quirky and I felt as though I'd joined a family that just 'got me' so completely it took my breath away' quite literally. (Can I be annoying enough to point out I used the word 'literally' in its true sense, not the modern usage that has crept into our speech.)
While Claire had initially been the one to approach me, I'd really been smitten with her sister. Sarah had the same lost waif vibe as myself. She dressed in a semi-Goth/rock chick sort of way I'd found so appealing in my female gaming companions. She had the face of angel, with long dark hair that reached nearly the middle of her back. Small high breasts I found completely adorable. The ironic addition to all these elements, so massively appealing to this heterosexual 16 year old teen, was, she also equipped (or, as she would say, burdened) with a penis.
I discovered two facts about myself that weird hot afternoon. 1) It didn't matter .. not even the smallest amount. When you fall for the top half of someone discovering a surprise about their bottom is just a momentary pause. I did wonder, doubting myself, if the attraction was just the product of lust. Once I had dealt with the raging hormones and come to my senses that I would find myself regretting what I'd done. However, to my delight, it continued not to matter.2) I wanted to be what Sarah was. I never dreamed you could live as a girl, except in your imagination. She proved to me it was not only possible, it was wonderful.
Our holiday overlapped for four of the sweetest days of my life. Four brief days and then she and her family had to return to their home in distant mist shrouded North Wales. I now had a whole week to wait until we saw each other again. The week is going to be tough, despite having the support and love of my family around me.
I had a few things to adjust to. Firstly I'd reached a decision to live full time as a girl. I call this decision "The Jade Palace Turning Point" ... made outside the romantically ornate gentleman's toilets in the Jade Palace Chinese Restaurant. After I'd reached this turning point I'd not yet talked about this to anyone in my immediate family.
Secondly I'd decided that I am really am in love with Sarah. Being apart from her is a physical pain in my chest. A tight lump of tension around my breast bone that doesn't move. I don't want to be apart from her for this long ever again. Sarah warned me that starting hormone treatments will make me feel more emotional, prone to crying and mood swings. Having spent all of Saturday crying, emotional and having huge mood swings I am now almost certain that someone has secretly started me on hormone treatments!
Back to my present reality now, I reach out for a pack of wet wipes and begin to tidy myself up. Closing my eyes against the blue light of the Cornish sunshine that seeps through the fabric of the tent. I hear shuffling sounds outside the tent and know that it can't be the mutants and Semi-Dead ghouls. My brother Ryan will have taken care of them with his laser pistols. No less effective than Rayon's guns for being completely imaginary.
Clean from excessive wet wipes, I don't feel in the mood to wear my purple dress anymore. It has a certain doomed post-apocalyptic heroine vibe to it. Instead I pull on a simple black skirt and tug a matching black tee shirt over my sock filled bra.
"Lee?" comes the voice of the Puppy Commando from outside.
"What?" I laugh. I'm not going to ask him to call me Leela, Leia, Alice, Heidi or even Sis.
"Sandwich?" it sounds like a statement rather than a question.
Feeling my stomach grumble, I pull up the zip on the tent and look outside. He is standing with a couple of plastic camp plates filled with lunch.
"I thought you were hunting for supplies in mutant territory?" I ask. "I didn't expect you back from that mission so soon!"
"Yeah, mum caught me as I was sneaking past the radioactive craters." he explained. I nod in understanding. Mum doesn't miss much. She also knows both of her children need a bit of TLC today. Sunday is our first full day without the other half of our family around. A full 24 hours separate us now from watching the dusty back end of the Volvo estate and it's caravan pull away. I've played with Ryan until he got bored with me. I've walked and got lost in my thoughts. I've written a letter that frustratingly won't be collected until 3.00 on Monday afternoon.
I'm feeling so chirpy that I would definitely welcome back the mutant ghouls and their hunger for human flesh. I put a small silver Ankh around my neck. It reminds me that life is to be experienced and savoured, no matter what. It was a gift from Sarah, and opening it caused me to cry solidly for nearly 30 minutes. See, I told you I was a mess!
"If you are having the hooky one, can I have the star one?" Ryan asked. I've a total of two pieces of jewellery in my collection. The Ankh and a Pentagram. Mum, who still has some faith, though she would describe herself as a lapsed Christian, is a little unhappy about the pentagram. She thinks it is a symbol of devil worship. Ryan naturally thinks it is utterly cool.
"Shall we carry our lunch down to the beach and you can wear it there?" I suggest. Ryan shrugs. We gather up our bits and some towels to sit on. I pull on a pair of boots and crawl out of the Sanctuary (as I call my tent.)
The weather is quite nice. Not too blastingly bright today, but mum has coated Ryan with a shiny layer of sun screen anyway. I should probably smear some on my face and arms as well.
"So, you going to keep wearing dresses?" he asks.
"Yes, I think so." I say.
"You are brave." he says, lost in thought.
"Not really." I reply.
"Aren't you worried that people will make fun of you?"
"The only people I care about won't make fun of me." I say.
"What about other people?"
"I don't care what they think." I say.
"So, are you my sister now?" he asks. We had this conversation on Saturday and obviously we are going to have it again today. I don't mind, but it does worry me that it is playing on his brain a bit.
"Do you mind having a sister?" I ask. "Because I think I've been a bit of sister for a long time, just not a sister that wore dresses."
"No, not really." he says. "If you are going to be a girl, could you be more like Claire." Ah, there is the rub. Claire is the coolest person in the universe to Ryan. He has already asked her to marry him. She is everything I can't be as a girl. Tough, sassy and confident. She sports a punky hairstyle, wears cool army things and runs 20 laps around the campsite every morning. She would be Ryan's ideal woman if she was 10 years younger and not completely into girls herself.
I have a huge sister crush on Claire. We had become really good friends over the four days we'd known each other. I sense she 'got me' completely on our first conversation, sized me up and knew that she had discovered a girl trapped in a boy's body. She has been a massive support and kept my feet on solid ground. She is completely yang to Sarah's yin. I am amazed how she has taken me so lovingly into her world, though often with teasing and making me laugh at myself being the price I've gladly paid for that.
Ryan understands what gay is. He has come home from school after being told by his peer group about gay things and asked me. We talked about it and he thinks it is okay for girls and boys to love other girls and boys the same as them. I think he will be cool, but a little disappointed, when he discovers Claire is a girl who loves other girls.
"So I call you by the new girl name now?" he asks.
"You didn't often call me by my boy name when I was just your brother!" I poke him. He starts to laugh.
"What do you want to be called?" he taunts me slightly.
"Not any of the following ... butt face, retarded, moron, smelly or brudder." I say.
"Okay." he agrees. "But what do you want to be called?"
"Why don't you decide on what you want to call me? ... and we will make it your name for me." I suggest.
"Cool," his eyes light up with evil. "Esmeralda." he suddenly says.
"I will settle for Ezz ... and nothing longer!" I demand.
"Sure thing, Quasimodo!" he shouts and runs off. I gather the plates and towels.
It is going to be a long Sunday!