Date: Thu, 23 Jan 2014 00:39:35 +0000
From: H'eidi Eros <thothtarot@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: Leela Brown and the Mutant Apocalypse (tg) Part One

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!