Family Curse

 

 

 

PART 1

I was sitting comfortably in my computer chair, lost in the endless labyrinth of internet when a soft, almost hesitant knock echoed against my bedroom doors. "Come in" I called out and the door cracked open. "Hi honey. Can we talk?" My mom asked offering a sympathetic smile. "Sure" I replied watching her stepping across the threshold. A few steps behind her, my older sister Andrea trailed into the room, her posture entirely nonchalant. I raised an eyebrow in question as the two of them took a seat side by side on my bed. "You probably know what I want to talk about" My mom said, her voice laced with concern. I swallowed hard and gave her a nervous nod. My mind immediately raced to my upcoming sixteenth birthday. A milestone that every male in our family approached with dread. My gaze drifted to Andrea. She was tapping something on her phone, showing no interest in the conversation. I could imagine her having a similar talk with mom two years ago, back when she was still my brother, Andrew.

I know it sounds like madness, but our family is cursed. Every male in our bloodline, upon turning sixteen faces a fifty percent chance of undergoing a complete and irreversible sex change. My own mother, the very woman who brought me into this world used to be a boy before she turned sixteen. Several of my male cousins had suffered the same fate and most vividly of all, just two years ago, I watched with my own eyes as my brother Andrew is slowly turning into my sister, Andrea. I had always knew there is a possibility of me sharing the same fate. Yet, youthful optimism or perhaps just denial had convinced me I will be spared from the curse. The odds were fifty-fifty and since Andrew had already drawn the short straw, my logic dictated that the curse wouldn't strike our gene pool twice in a row.

As my mother started her speech about the physical changes and psychological hurdles of the transformation I might soon face, her voice became little more than white noise. My mind was consumed by a spike of panic. I didn't want this to happen. I liked being a guy and I sure as hell didn't want to turn into a girl. Seeing the horror painting on my face, my mom reached out, her warm hand gently placed on mine. "Don't worry sweetie. The transformation can be terrifying and confusing. Trust me, I know firsthand. I went through it myself years ago. But in the end, being a woman didn't turn out to be all that bad. If there's anything you need, I will be there for you. And Andrea will help too. Isn't that right?" Mom said turning her gaze to my sister. "Andrea looked up from her phone and offered and unenthusiastic "Mhm..." The expression on her face was showing she'd rather be literally anywhere else. "Anyway, try not to dwell on it. I'm sure whatever happens, it's going to be fine" Mom reassured me one last time before standing up. "Don't sweat it, little bro" Andrea chimed in, flashing a distinctly mischievous grin before rising to her feet "It's really not that bad. To be honest, it'll actually be kind of fun having a little sister" with a graceful sway of her hips she gilded out of my room. I sat frozen, swallowing hard. My sixteenth birthday was exactly one week away. In seven days a toss of a coin will decide my fate.

PART 2

Later that afternoon, as I was wandering down the hallway, I passed by Andrea's bedroom. The door was cracked open and curiosity drew my gaze inside. Andrea was absorbed in her own world. She was striking a pose while pointing her phone camera at herself. Evidently she was taking another picture for her instagram profile. I shook my head in quiet disbelief. It was surreal that this girl in front of me had once been my brother. It wasn't just her physical appearance. It was literally everything about her. She dressed exclusively in female clothes, didn't shy away from revealing tops and short skirts. She was clearly following a rigorous maintenance routine to keep her hair stylish. A touch of makeup was always highlighting her features. There was not a single remnant of masculinity left in her mannerism. The cadence of her voice, the rhythmic sway of her hips when she walked. If I hadn't known her my entire life, I would have bet my life savings she had been born female.

I vividly remember the weeks following Andrew's sixteenth birthday two years ago. For the first seven days, he had seemed entirely normal. But then, the curse began to show it's first signs. First came the shifts to his physique. His broad, boyish shoulders gradually narrowed, while his sharp facial features softened into delicate, feminine contours. His overall frame was taking on the unmistakable, slender shape of a teenage girl. Before long even his walk shifted from a heavy footed stride into a fluid, feminine walk. I was desperately trying to keep my gaze away, but it was impossible not to notice the changes in his body, especially around his chest when the unmistakable shape of breasts had became obvious beneath his t-shirts. About a month after it began, mom and Andy returned from a doctor's appointment. The look on Andy's face showed pure horror. Later that day, mom sat me down and told me that Andy's transformation was completed. He was now, in every physical aspect a girl.

Naturally, Andy had been devastated. He locked himself in his bedroom for days, venturing only wrapped in an oversized hoodie and baggy sweatpants, like if he was desperately trying to hide the new shape of his body. But with time, it seemed like Andy began to accept his fate. The baggy clothes were eventually swapped for more form fitting and feminine clothes. He started playing around with makeup and somewhere along the way, he requested we start calling him Andrea. It was jarring to watch my brother seamlessly morph into a girl. Mom had explained it was a byproduct of the curse. That the personality and preferences will eventually match his physical form. Eventually the shock wore off. It stopped feeling weird to see Andrea in a skirt, watch her giggle, or most horrifyingly of all, to spot her down at the local park, passionately kissing with a neighborhood boy. By now, Andrea is entirely my sister. She looks and acts like a girl. I shook my head to clear the memory and retreated to my own room, muttering a silent prayer that the curse will somehow spare me this fate.

A week later, the dreaded day arrived. My sixteenth birthday. The moment my eyes snapped open, I bolted upright. I threw off the covers and dashed straight to the bathroom mirror to frantically inspect every inch of my body. After the inspection was done, I let out a sigh of relief. My chest was flat and nothing indicated the curse had taken root. Of course I knew I wasn't going to change over night, but seeing no evidence, my naive brain decided I was safe. I spend the day as normally as possible. I got birthday gifts from my parents and sister, and later I went out with my mates to grab burgers at McDonald's. It wasn't until I was getting ready for my evening shower when I glanced casually down at my chest and froze. My nipples and areolas were visibly enlarged and the skin around them was slightly but unmistakably swollen. "No... Oh God, no" I breathed our trembling.

PART 3

"Happy birthday to me... I guess" I said bitterly, staring at the screen of my phone. I snapped a selfie and looked at the digital reflection of myself. It had been over a month since that night in the bathroom. My transformation was officially complete. I was one hundred percent a girl now. Well, physically at least. Mentally I was still the same guy on the inside, fighting against this new reality. It was a surreal ride. For a month I watched in sheer horror as my body was transforming. My frame was systematically shrinking, my shoulders narrowing, my hips subtly widening and my waist cinching inward to crave out a prominent hourglass figure. My face lost it's boyish angles, replaced by soft, delicate features. My back had filled out, giving me a plump butt and worst of all, my breasts swelled and rounded, blossoming into a pair of soft, sensitive mounds that I couldn't ignore no matter how hard I tried. It was a psychological torture chamber I had no choice but to sit inside it. The reality was brutal. I was transformed against my will, in a way I never wanted. 

 

Just like in Andrea's case, the full transformation took a month. Mom had dragged me to a doctor's office where clinical tests confirmed the inevitable. I was biologically female now. And how do I feel about it? It sucks and it makes me sick to the stomach. I hate every bit of it. As a guy I had been tall but now my height shrank drastically. I was painfully short even by girl's standards. It's humiliating that I suddenly need a step stool just to reach the top shelves in the kitchen. My strength also left my new body and I had to ask my dad to open a jar for me yesterday. Yet, height and strength are the least of my torment. My penis is gone, replaced by a completely different equipment. The emptiness between my legs leave me constantly hyper aware of my new anatomy. It feels awkward and deeply uncomfortable. Then there are breasts. The soft mounds on my chest which presence I cannot get used to. What's worse is that I wasn't even done growing. I'm only sixteen and my body is still developing. If mom and Andrea can be any indication, it's most likely I still have some growing ahead of me before my bust reaches it's full, mature size.

You probably wonder what's the deal with my current style? The hair, the nails, makeup and outfit? That's the courtesy of my sister. Andrea had eagerly stepped in to "help" me adjust, though her motives were about as far from altruistic as possible. I could see the poorly masked satisfaction in her eyes when she was curling my hair, applying makeup to my face or when she was picking a new wardrobe for me. She was having the time of her life doing a makeover to her newly feminized sibling, constantly cooing about how "cute" I looked as a girl. A compliment that made me want to scream. Yesterday I had accidentally overhead Andrea and mom whispering in the kitchen, debating over a new name for me. Apparently they narrowed it down to two choices. Grace or Samantha. I despise both options equally, but I know sooner or later one of these is going to become my name. Liking it or not, the transformation was finished. I am a girl now and the cold realization settles into my mind. Just like my sister before me, it was only a matter of time before my mind adapts and I will start acting like a girl, feel like a girl and, God help me, before... Before I find myself attracted to boys.