Chapter #4Hermaphrodite. by: Unknown Daniel woke to the sounds of an AK47 assault rifle firing off in a shooting range. He jumped several inches in fright, his blankets scattering like autumn leaves, then cursed as he realized what it was on decent. His alarm clock - a most obnoxious device with the worst tune-deaf tone in this galaxy.
It was his mother's idea. Tired of how Daniel kept oversleeping and being a "slob" as in her words, she conspired against her own son's sleep - at least that's how Daniel felt about it - by buying the most full-proof waking alarm she could find.
Oh but that wasn't even the best part. The wake-up call of gunfire was least of the alarm's headache inducing annoyance. Additionally it had a pair of wheels that started spinning on activation, ensuring that the clock would drive off of your cabinet and run all along your floor like some demented drill sergeant screaming at you to wake up; way out of your hands desperately reaching to turn it off.
This time Daniel was prepared however, and punched the clock into bits and pieces the moment it started blaring. It went airborne into the wall with brick-breaking force, gears and levers flying everywhere. Like a car radio pitifully running out of gas, the clock mournfully receded into silence. Daniel wasn't in the mood for BS this early in the morning.
Sitting up, Daniel yawned and rubbed his haggard eyes. Man, he had slept himself into lethargy. He felt stiff; as if his back hadn't properly rested prone as it should. Oh well, time to go bath and get ready for the day. He wanted to be at Doctor Harthorn's lab early. The Doctor although easy going, insisted on punctuality. Well no point losing a job in the second day due to being late, now is there?
This job was duller than watching paint dry (in fact the Doctor had actually in one of his interviews told Daniel that an experiment would involve Daniel as an apprentice literally watching some form of special highly advanced paint dry; boring as hell, right?), but Daniel could not afford to lose it. The job was a blessing from heaven, and the only thing that would possibly keep Daniel from getting kicked into the streets by his own frustrated mother at the end of this month.
Daniel made his way to his closet; opening it, he extracted his choice attire for the day. It was only when Daniel looked at his mirror that he stopped. His logic hit a Cul-de-Sac. Daniel only wore boxers to bed; resulting in his chest being exposed.
First Daniel's mind was a blank. Then confusion. Then shock. Wait, what the f###??
Two perky pert breasts adorned Daniel's chest where only flatness had been the night before. Like goggle eye-pieces pointing slightly in different directions, the two mounds stood erect proudly. The areolas were much wider and darker, the nipples stood out more like pegs.
Then Daniel reacted. His hands instinctively went to to the balloons of flesh as if in need of confirmation what his eyes saw. To Daniel's horror his hands found them to be real as he cupped them. He stood there in mortified disbelief. He couldn't begin to comprehend what he was seeing or why. He stared transfixed at his newfound breasts as if hypnotized.
Then Daniel raged. No no no no no no nooooo! I have boobs! This had to be a nightmare! Or maybe he was high! This was unreal.
This couldn't be.
For a moment Daniel's panicked thoughts went a totally bizarre direction. Oh crud, oh crud! His Life Orientation teacher had warned him and his friends that excessive alcohol was bad in countless ways. He recalled how he and his buddies had laughed the teacher quite literally out of the class in shame when the teacher had told them that too much alcohol disturbed your hormones and could cause the growth of breasts, even with men.
Was this Daniel's punishment for drinking like a fish? He had in the last few weeks went to numerous bars in depression for being unemployed prior to getting hired by the professor. And he had sacked several wine vats worth of beer for many a nights. Oh crud! Daniel hadn't believed men could just randomly grow breasts, yet here he stood with them!!
Not small ones, not one tiny ones that could be overlooked by covering them with a jacket; but an enormously generously well endowed bosom. Daniel couldn't even place his hands over his cupped breasts; they overflowed from his fingers! Having been a teenager, and therefore having viewed the Playboy like every other testosterone-fueled twat, he judged them from experience to exceed double EE size.
Daniel gulped, trying to swallow the dryness of his throat. He was a freak. A hermaphrodite. A cross between girls and boys. He was a queer sight standing in front of his mirror. Normal boy from the feet and waist up, with the exception of his hands filled with boob matter. Oh no!!! he wept in his mind.
Yet in all this turmoil of thoughts, Daniel couldn't but help to admire his impressive rack. Truth be told, he never once gazed upon the breasts, real live ones, of a girl. Porn didn't count. And while he had always dreamed of touching the chests of a girl; he found the sensation of having breasts touched to be far, far more desirable. In short they felt magnificent.
Quickly his thoughts devolved into concentrating into fondling himself. He tried desperately to release his chests, but they tingled and glowered with irresistible pleasure. They became ramrod stiff and firm in his hands which rubbed and stroked and squeezed them, in very short order. It felt like having not one, but two erections on his chest!! Moans escaped his lips and breathing became laboured. A wave of ecstasy rose within Daniel like a rush of floodwater. He realized the greatest sensations awoke from twirling and tweaking the nipples. For ten minutes he was lost to pleasure.
Then as if in realization at what an impulsive act he was undergoing, Daniel stopped immediately. Dammit! He was an androgynous freak! He needed to figure out why, and here he stood playing with himself?!! Daniel felt the blood of shame rise to his face as he reflected what he had been up to.
He needed to think. What had caused this? How was he going to remedy this, fix this? For starters. He had boobs for pity's sake!!
Daniel's train of thoughts was derailed by his mother opening his door without knocking.
Well shaait.
Daniel, in instinct, feebly covered his chests with both arms. His face resembled a Thermometor which was overheating as his cheeks lighted up with fire. Having your mother see your newgrown alcohol-induced (in Daniel's mind at least) had to be there somewhere in the list of the top ten most embarrasing moments of all time.
"I-I c-can explain!" He said meekly.
"You'd better, boy! Why is my clock in pieces?! You're mistaken if you think I'm buying you a replacement, you ungrateful sod. Breakfast was on the table ten minutes ago. Why haven't you bathed yet?"
Was Daniel's mother for real? Was she blind; could she not see the breasts jiggling on his chest??
"Err...mom...I need help...look." Daniel said, nervously as he removed his arms to reveal his chests.
"Sorry, son. The day I've helped you with your bras have passed long ago. Now cover yourself, please. I won't have my son walk barebreasted or nude in my home, while he's freeloading. And remember: if you don't find a job in the next month, you pay rent or hit the streets. I'm tired of waiting for you to grow up."
"Mom, can you not see?!!" Daniel asked, exasperated.
Daniel's mother ignored him and walked downstairs. Did she just say, help him with his bras?? She didn't even act out of place. As if nothing was wrong with Daniel. What on the good green earth was going on?
As if on a hint, Daniel looked in his closet again. Sure enough, an impressive array of bras lined one of the shelves. Black lacy ones, pink frilly and yellow polka dot ones. How'd those get in there?
Then something else caught Daniel's eye; something making him gasp. Several photos depicting his entire life, along with his family, friends and past college colleagues which he had sticky-taped onto his closet-door mirror had him in them with breasts. From his early toddler days he had small pubescent developing booblets, to his older growing-up self he had breasts growing more sizable with the passing years.
No small wonder his mother had acted as if everything was okay. Daniel had read enough science-fiction novels and comics to immediately jump to the conclusion that his whole reality had changed -and in it he had breasts!!
Daniel needed to go see the Doctor. He was a nutter, but a clever nutter. He would be able to help Daniel. Maybe even tell him what the blazes was going on.
Daniel rushed around his room to get dressed. He didn't even bother with bathing. Hygiene was the very last thing on his mind at the current moment. Mid-stride, Daniel stopped. He looked down on his cleavage and frowned. Maybe he actually needed a bra. Even in the small interior space of his room, Daniel had experienced the need to keep his bouncing flopping breasts stable. With a blushing rose-red face he restrained his breasts with a bra from his closet. He was pleasantly surprised that to confine them and keep them in place was comforting.
Without detour, Daniel then sprinted to his car, and by extent to the lab.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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