Chronicles of Drodge Mallea
First Chronicle
Drodge awoke feeling fuzzy headed and stiff. Actually, "awoke" wasn't quite right -- "came to was more like it.
She sat up in the lavishly furnished boudoir, stretching her athletic 6-foot frame as she did. Running a hand though her short, thick copper locks, she slipped out of the bed, suddenly remembering that she wasn't alone. She'd deal with her overnight companion shortly, but caffeine and a shower took priority for now.
She spent an extra long time in the shower this morning, massaging her tanned, aching muscles and taking time to evaluate her physique. For a muscular woman, she still had curves supple enough to turn heads when she wanted to. Her firm D cups topped off a body that made men drool and women...well, she had no trouble impressing them either, as her overnight guest could attest to.
It hadn't always been that easy for her, though. Then again, she wasn't always a "she..."
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The woman known -- to those who knew her at all -- as Drodge had started life far differently. Different looks, different tastes, different gender. It was only when she was given the "gift" that life as she now knew it began. Of course, for all of its benefits, the gift was more of a curse at first, before she (or he, depending on the moment) learned how to control it.
These days, Drodge didn't really think of herself as male or female, though she maintained female form more often than not...assuming you counted shemale as "female." The fact that she was a shapeshifter meant she could indulge every sexual fantasy a person could have, and she had lots. Besides, she joked to herself at times, as a shemale she could have the best of both world's -- going "lesbian" while still being able to fuck sweet young things silly, making them scream for more all night long. Their eager and willing natures were not just the result of Drodge's incredible physique and sultry looks (though that was a big part of it). The second part of the gift left her able to seduce anyone at will, turning them into drooling, compliant fucktoys on a whim.
The third and final part of the gift, now that was a double-edged sword. When the stranger bestowed the gift on her, when "she" was an awkward teen, he gave Drodge an inexhaustible sexual stamina and the ability to cum over and over again without end, in any form Drodge chose. Unfortunately, this "ability" carried with it an insatiable lust that drove her to feed at times, almost like a sexual vampire at times. She had gotten into more than one difficult spot because of this hyperdrive...
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"Bran, are you listening to me?"
The soft voice snapped Drodge -- "Bran" or Brandon in earlier days -- out of his lust-induced fog. It had been two days since the strange man outside the mall had accosted Bran, telling him that he was about to receive "a gift as powerful as one given to the gods of the past." The encounter unnerved young Bran, who was never very good with people anyway, especially those he didn't know. Bran got away from the stranger -- and his creepy gaze -- as quickly as he could without causing a scene. He spent most of the bus ride home eagerly awaiting the departure of the creepy feeling the run-in had left him with.
Ever since the encounter, though, he couldn't shake a strange feeling. The unease he felt had dissipated, but it was replaced with a feeling that Bran couldn't dislodge. The tall, gangly, freckle-faced teen with unruly hair and stooped shoulders felt a strange sensation building in both his mind and body. At first, he wrote it off to typical teen angst coupled with his raging teen hormones. But as it wore on and intensified, he started to realize something strange was happening. When he went to bed the night before, he wondered if he was getting sick.
"Great," the introverted teen groused to himself. "Getting sick right before Spring break. When is my body ever going to start working for me instead of against me?" Despite having most of the fundamental physical traits a teen boy would want -- he was tall, broad-shouldered and thin -- he lacked definition and had standard teen problems like acne and perpetually bad hair. Add those to a nearly nonexistent self-esteem, and the resulting self-image left Bran thinking of himself as an oversized geek.
He fell asleep, after a typically unsatisfying round of pre-sleep masturbation, with yearnings of a time when he could have a body that "worked for him."
He awoke with a start, the first of many starts that he was in for that fateful day. He threw on a robe as he got up and walked out his bedroom to the bathroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. As he sat on the toilet relieving himself, he realized that he didn't feel normal. In fact, he felt better than normal. He felt energetic and vital, two feelings typically foreign to him, especially at that hour. As he stood up and walked to the mirror, he noticed that he looked better than usual. His skin was clear and his teeth looked like they came out of a toothpaste ad, not the usual dingy grayish-white he normally displayed.
His body was even more intriguing to him. Rather than the rather nondescript physique he often grimaced at in the mirror, his form today had an unusually toned looked to it. His arms looked lean and hard, his pecs well-defined albeit smallish for his large frame, and his stomach was flat and taut. Bran was stunned at first, thinking he was still half asleep. He was about to dismiss this appearance as a trick of the light until the robe parted slightly and he got his second start of the day.
His relatively unremarkable shaft looked as if it had lengthened to its erect length...only it wasn't erect. "What the fuck?" he wondered, as he gaped at his mysteriously lengthened penis. How was this possible? He had heard about people his age having surprisingly quick growth spurts...but this much overnight. He would have stayed there for an hour gaping at his suddenly acceptable appearance, if not for his kid sister Ali calling to him that they were late for school.
School went by in a blur, such was Bran's mental state. The day's surreal nature was made more so by several strange coincidences that Bran noted. Like French 1301, where he sat in his usual state of lust staring at Ms. Herman and her gorgeous mounds, straining against her too small blouse. He was thinking about how he'd kill to have her think of him as attractive, when she suddenly turned to look at him. Without breaking stride in her sentence, her eyes locked with his and gave him what seemed to be a subtle but distinctive look of...well, lust, really. After a few seconds, she looked away, leaving Bran taken aback and wondering how that could have happened. To make it stranger, 30 minutes later, she discretely undid her top blouse button...right as Bran wished she would!
He struggled to make sense of it, to no avail. Luckily, the day's bizarre happenings made it go by quickly and before he knew it, he was out behind his house, sitting by the pool. He didn't realize Ali had joined him and was speaking to him, such was the fog he seemed to be in.
"Bran, are you listening to me?"
He looked up and felt his pulse quicken at the sight of his sister. Ali had undergone a great deal of physical changes of late as well (though not with the speed of Bran's inexplicable transformation). Her petite frame, while still slender and lithe, had noticeably curved in all the right places. Her smallish B cups were perfectly shaped, and her gluts had puffed out into a perfect mini-bubble butt. Her flat stomach and tan skin accentuated her allure, but not as much as her angelic face. Her full lips and doe eyes were framed by straight blonde locks that shimmered against her tan shoulders and all the way down her back.
Bran had long had a maelstrom of feelings for his younger sibling, some honorable and others...well, the fact that she had blossomed into a breathtaking little nymph, coupled with the fact that he genuinely liked his sister as a person, made her irresistible to Bran. Though he'd never acted on it, he'd been madly in love with her for some time now.
"Sorry Al -- caught me daydreaming," he smiled. "What's up?"
"I was just asking if I can lay out with you, or will it bother you."
He smiled again. "Well, yes, it's a terrible burden having a robobabe in a bikini sit by me at the pool, but I'll try to struggle along."
What?!?! He never spoke that way to anyone, least of all his virginal sister. She was cool and all, and 18 now, but still, she was his little sister -- key word being "little." To complicate matters, her reaction only egged him on. She grinned adorably and blushed, mumbling "Oh, stop" as she stepped over him to the lounge. The barely there bikini she had on shifted as she did, giving Bran an up-close view of her perfect left ass cheek as she passed. His unusually large shaft stirred as she passed, a result of the visual coupled with the incredible way she always smelled.
"Hey, you're going to have to get used to compliments like that -- you look more like Mom every day," Bran said as she settled. Her head flew around, a surprised look on her face. "Really? You think so?" Bran nodded sincerely, changing Ali's blush to a look of adoration. "Aww, you're the best Bran. I love you to death, bro," she exclaimed, leaning over to hug him tight around the neck. As she did, she ground her perky breasts and hardened nipples inadvertently (???) into his bare chest. His cock stirred more, making Bran worry it would start to show against his trunks. He shifted a bit to keep it in control.
"By the way, speaking of looks, what's with you today?," she asked, settling back into her lounge, her taut teen frame glistening in the soft afternoon sun. In response to his quizzical look, she added," You been working out? You look...well, kinda buff." Her shy way of saying it made him realize she was being sincere.
