Heridas Viejas (Latina MTF TG)

 

Old Wounds

Viejas Heridas

(SWI - Story with images. Latina MTF TG.)

Adam stretched into the warming morning air. Then stared at his new purchase. New job, no more competition where you’d need to cut throats for a salary raise, or to find a place to live for that matter.

He had scoped the place out a few times before moving. 

 

Not far from his house was an old Mexican style hovel. They said it was common near San Antonio. Totally ruined, but all the foundations were there and a few sun blasted walls that looked little different from the sediment around it. The old West heritage was cool but the people around seemed pretty far removed from it. Safe to say that he was too.

The house was airy enough. Too big and didn’t have any chick to share it with. But since he had the means to rent, and soon, probably buy a house at thirty. That problem would fix itself. His net worth could only go up.

Most of the houses in the distance were a shimmering mirage. As he unpacked his last box he heard a typical Mid-Western twang. Not like the drawls or Spanglish of the locals he’d been hearing at the gas stations.

“Hey neighbour. Long drive?” He turned around to see a pretty blonde with a pixie cut. She had creamy brown eyes. They had bags under them, and she had a few wrinkles, but her best parts weren’t sagging too much.

“Yeah not even had the chance to eat. Uhm… I’m Adam by the way.”

“Samantha, just recently moved into this property. And my Husband too.” She reached out her hand. He give it a quick shake. He glanced at the wedding ring.

Ah well, she was too old for me anyway.

“Awesome. Where was home before this?”

“Oklahoma, but my husband is from Texas”

“Really? Is this like his-“ He waved his hand a little.

“Sorry, looking at you is making me really worried. You’re a mess. You look like you might pass out. How about you come for a bite to eat?” She said.

“I mean I feel fine, but I wouldn’t mind.” That wasn’t true. His stomach was chewing on itself.

She nodded and beckoned him onto her driveway.

As he entered their house, he smelled spices already on the go. He was no stranger to it, he spent half his nights in NYU covered in sloppy burrito.

“Juan, this is our new neighbour.” She did a twirl and cosied up to his side. Juan looked him up and down. This guy was tall, kinda slim, well groomed, just a hint of stubble. He was immediately starry eyed, with an enormous grin on his face. He put his hand out for a shake. As soon as Adam took it, he clasped it with both hands.

“We have been waiting for someone like you. Someone like my wife. You know the people here are a little too Mexican for my liking.” He said with a hand at the side of his mouth.

 

 Weird thing to say about your own people. He nearly said it out loud but thought it impolite. Juan made eye contact for a moment.

 “I’m just kidding. Mexicans make Texas what it is!” Juan laughed. Adam made a cool guy pointing finger gesture at him then he sat down at the table, then put his right hand down.

Juan’s mouth twitched. “Aren’t you going to ask-“

“Smell that? Dinner is ready soon!” Samantha interrupted. He blew air out hard and looked excitedly between them.

“Frijoles Puercos and some Tamales for our guest. Buen provecho!” Samantha said. Juan almost giggled. “Your Spanish is getting better dear.”

It could have been reheated roadkill, but after the day he’d had, he finished it all in a few minutes. At one point he felt something sharp scratch his throat.

“Sorry, are there bones in here?” He raised a brow.

“Oh I left a couple in, it keeps the stomach juices strong.” Juan said while shoveling a spoon in his mouth.

That was really fucking stupid and dangerous. But he shrugged and kept on going until the whole thing was finished. He didn’t want to cause offence and he wanted to fit in. It did taste pretty authentic but a little weird at first. Like there was some medicinal herbs? Maybe minty. His tastebuds were deadened by spices either way.

“That was fantastic. Thanks a lot.” He said.

“It’s nothing.” Juan replied.

“Can I have that recipe?” He said as he out the knife and fork down.

“No! You can’t just have anything you want.” Juan glared at him.

“S-sorry.” He mumbled. He was used to being shouted at and then shouting back. But he instantly felt guilty. He had overstepped. Samantha gave a pointed look to Juan. His angry expression settled.

“That’s fine. You know the spices here are weak. In the old days they’d practically knock you out. Like what my grandmother used to make me.” He shook his head while finishing up the dishes.

“What was your life like in…?” Samantha beamed a smile. Adam listed it off as he had at so many mixers.

“New York. Yeah my dad was a stock broker. Mom was a nurse. Neither are originally New Yorkers themselves though. They put me through a good school. Never wanted for anything really.” Juan stood next to her .

“We both grew up on farms and somehow we found each other. At a once a year market. I’m so lucky.” Samantha said. Juan was looking towards him still.

“I hope I’m just as lucky some day.” He said half-heatedly.

“Some day soon I think.” Samantha said in a way he wasn’t sure if she had some secret foresight or was just being pleasant. She kind of seemed one of those hippy dippy fortune telling crystal types though.

They talked a little more. About the quirks of the area and the best barbecue joints. Adam said his goodbyes and stumbled into his currently minimalist bedroom with a yawn. What nice people. The whole time he was with them he was pretty cheerful. Now that he was solo in his own empty house, he felt pretty down.

His first night there he had a weird dream. Or at least it seemed a dream, he swore he was tossing and turning in his bed with his eyes open the whole time. He could remember the feelings, of being vulnerable, fearful.

 

He looked down and saw a pair of exquisite tits on his chest, hidden under a trimmed white dress. They were the perfect size. A pair of handfuls. He expected to feel a hard on growing from looking at these, but there was nothing to grow hard. He knew this should have been incomprehensible, impossible, but whatever point of view he was in gave them the same amount of attention as they did the trees and grass. A thick fragrant smell poured into his nostrils. He felt his hands placed on his lap.

“How’s it y’all Mexicans say how you doing?” There was a man in front of him. But it was so long ago, what did he even look like?

“Como estás?” His mouth moved mechanically on its own, and the voice came with a slightly seductive accent.

“Sorry señor Douglas, my English not so.. not so perfect.” She looked away embarrassed.

The man gave her his best sympathetic look.

“My my, on top of your mighty sad story you gone and appealed to my protective side.”

“I’m a lonely man Miss Heralo…” He stared right through her. She saw him clean the top of his lips. Then he tapped his knife on his plate. “It’ll be good ta have a young exotic lady like you round fer conversation” she opened her mouth but he interrupted.

“I heard they make some delicious food beyond the border. You can fix me some of that up.”

“A Chef but…” He give a single stern shake of the head.

“Now Miss Heredero, from one person of breeding to another. This is a fine offer, stay under my roof and gimme a little taste of those Spanish spices hm? Hardly got ya out there with the black folk. You earn your keep.”

She gave him a crippled smile. “Of course, Mr Douglas”

“That’s a sweet little voice you got. Now let me get you and your help set up. Hoo ey, real Mexican rich folks. We’ll have quite a time.”

“Gracias, a thousand times.” Adam mumbled in the darkness.

As he cleaned up the jeep Samantha waved over to him again. That odd little painted smile on her face. She was just about to step in her house when something clicked in his mind. Aside from the obvious shit, maybe they knew a place to visit. Perhaps some nice dating locations.

 “Yo Samantha. I have a question.” He shouted.

“What happens?” She asked as she trotted over.

“Do you know any scenic spots?”

“There is the ruins of the old fort. A presidio. But it’s somewhat closed off.” She pointed off in the distance as if it was right behind them.

“I was thinking more of a dating spot, a bunch of bearded re-enactors might ruin the mood.” He said, she nodded in response.

“There is a hill overlooking it. That and the plains would be a nice picnic spot.”

He grinned “Thanks.”

“Perhaps it will remind you of something? It’s all very exciting if you have an imagination.”

 He nodded as his mind wandered off to other things.

The video cam sprung to life. He could see the garden of their new suburban home for the first time.

“You’re having bad dreams? How about I ask this Vietnamese.. Chinese man I know to make a recipe.”

“It’s alright Mom. I don’t want any elephants to be mutilated for me. Besides, not really bad. Just vivid.”

“Not our fault they are so slow. Suit yourself son. Hey are all those Mexicans and Cubanos taking over down there treating you nicely?” His mother shrugged. No Cubans here.

“There are plenty of white people here. And they seem really nice. Way nicer than NYC. I met some of my co-workers at the onboarding. And there is a nice family in the house nearby.”

“You can marry one of those cute Mexican girls. Then you won’t be living alone there.” His Dad shouted from the sofa.

“Cute wouldn’t be what I would say.” He put on a shit eating grin but dropped it when he looked at his mother. I’d say sexy… but mom wouldn’t approve.

“You know my Great Aunt Martha married a Mexican man. She couldn’t resist that accent she said.” She rolled her eyes. “No famous blue eyes in her side of the family now.”

“Oh hear we go!” Dad said. “And your other Aunt was Scottish nobility or whatever. What a load of bull.”

“Didn’t you have that little girlfriend one time Adam?” His mother’s expression stuck as if trying to remember.

“Amelia, I think her family was Spanish though.” That was a name he hadn’t thought about in a long time. She really was Mexican, but the guys at school wouldn’t shut up about it.

“Oh.. right.” His mother’s face dimmed. She remembered more than she said. That was fine, he just didn’t want to hear about it. “Anyways, we were in the middle of a movie. Talk to you later kid.”

He found himself staring at a woman with flowing curly locks. The sounding of sobbing pierced his eardrums.

What did I even look like? It was so long ago now…

The woman came into focus and he saw there were two others rubbing her arms. His point of view then switched again. She looked between the two women trying to focus through the tears.

“Es injusto. Injusto!” You put your head on the shoulder of a servant. There was a loud bang from a hunter’s rifle in the distance. You shuddered in response.

“No se preocupe señora. God has allowed us to live thus far. And God will provide us revenge on these Texans.” The Spanish that was unintelligible a moment ago now flowed through your ears easily.

“Why do we lie to ourselves. God doesn’t exist mother.” The younger girl said, her mouth in a firm line.

You heard the brutally quick cracking sound of a slap as the plumper woman hit the other.

“Blasphemer. Stupid girl.” That woman was tough, and indomitable. She had the body of a mother bear. What was her name.. Fran..

“It’s true! What about Rodrigo? They didn’t even ask his name. What God would let him die without even some final words?” She was ready to burst into tears.

“I… in death he is loved.” She took a deep breath.

Camila launched into a frantic tirade. “I don’t know why we are even working for her anymore. Titles mean nothing. We should be looking out for ourselves. She wears those earrings while we have nothing. She can’t even pay-.”

The slap was harder this time, almost a punch. Camila let out a whimper. The other woman threw a finger in her face.

“Our lady’s family was ours for many years. We have another household now all thanks to our lady’s jewels. Otherwise you’d be selling your body in El Paso, stupid girl. Be grateful!” Camila bowed her head.

“She is young, forgive her, she does not under the depths of disrespect Doña.”

“It’s ok Francisca.” She wiped the tears. “I am lady of nowhere. Not that we really were lords or ladies anyway. Just cow shit shovelers.”

“Your father was a good man. Un hidalgo. He was an officer lest you forget. And you have always treated us well. I’ll follow you until you send us away.” Francisca rubbed her shoulders and even Camila joined in too. Ximena looked to Camila.

“You are all the family I have left. I have my determination. Stay with me, you won’t regret it.” She felt for Camila and her shattered faith. She hoped she could restore it. She remembered old stories of warrior queens leading their people through the wilderness. They would take some advantage of this situation and survive. Somehow…

“It’s too early, close the windows Camila!” He said between snoozes.

Adam paused and took a few heavy breaths as he touched the door handle. He had only worked in his new job for one week, what would his boss think if he already took time off. His neck and spine kept aching in new worrying ways. Not to mention there was something else wrong.

 

His hair was falling out. Everywhere, even his damn balls. His bed looked like a pine needle forest. He had read its best to ignore what you can’t control. And it’s all probably down to genetics. At least he wasn’t going bald at twenty.

He feigned wakefulness in the meeting, his boss occasionally singing his praises. Making mention of his position in New York. He wished he wouldn’t. He hated that job, he knew he had hit the ceiling when he realised he couldn’t backstab a friend for a promotion. Not that his friend minded doing the same. As the gas present from the collective stomach sighing of everyone in the room faded, he felt a squeezing pain in his groin. Fuck!

“What did you say?” His boss asked.

“Uh, I meant, fuck it. Let’s do it! The budget is there.” He said with feigned confidence. His balls throbbed like hell. He needed a cold press or something. He nearly said fuck again, but held it in.

 “Right, I like the enthusiasm! Must be that can do Manhattan attitude.” Everyone in the meeting begin to mutter about what they had all even agreed to.

He coughed out the front door and stumbled on to the bars in front. I probably caught a bug he thought. I’ve been eating weird food all week in the name of being open minded. But then… maybe it was an allergic reaction. Maybe stress? Fuck.

As he approached the parking lot he saw a glint out of the corner of his eye. He jerked his head forward and stood agape at the window. Gold, gold everywhere. How was there so much gold? His expression brightened. Rubies, sapphires, diamonds! Dios mio. He put his hand on his heart and the other hand on the glass, frantically thinking what he could do to afford it all and…

He blinked. What was he jabbering about?. I don’t wear fucking jewellery. I mean, it’s not like gold was hard to find anymore. That’s why it’s becoming boring. Trustworthy capital though. He pulled himself away from the glass.

“You goddamn ungrat-ungrat.”

The young woman backed off. “I no touch you.” He began gargle blood. Trying to shout for help. Ximena looked around in panic. He glared at her and then at a gun on the wall.

“Whore, fucking greasy bitch, I’ll have your life.”

“Please sir, no!” She looked at a hunting knife under the gun and dashed over to it. She held it threateningly in front, but he still charged her.

The scene was one of pure chaos. The voice coming from his mouth made unearthly screams as blood splattered onto her face. All the white hot rage building up in her appeared on her face.

“Viejo repugnante. Americano de mierda!” (Disgusting old shitty American.) She cackled as she drove three inches of steel into the bastard Americans chest. He weakly tried to knock her off.

“You… bitch, you poisoned me.”

She slashed at his wrists and kept going. Kept going that is until he let out a hideous sucking rattle.

“Una puta cocinera!? Soy nobleza, cerdo!” She screamed.

(A fucking cook? I am a noble!)

She stabbed him again making animalistic grunts.

“Y se dice ‘Her-re-ra’ idiota” (and you say it Herrera, idiot)

She took a few enormous breaths as she spat out every hateful thought she’d had since she arrived.

“Dices que me rescataste?” (You say you rescued me) She remembered his laughter, a grating insult. His boasts to his cronies about the beautiful Mexican woman he had rescued.

“Americanos. ¡Esto me hicisteis! ¡Invasores!” (Americans, you did this to me. Invaders.)

He slumped into the floor The door of the parlour broke open as some slaves broke in. She sat on the corpse crying, but a moment’s pause later and her face turned to one of ferocity. She barked enough to make them jump back.

“What you going to do? Pues? ¡Pues!? Soy el heredero de conquistadores.” (Well? Well? I’m the heir to conquistadors.)

They looked down at the corpse and between each other.

He huffed and puffed aggressively then looked at the knife in his hand. What the fuck? He dropped it instantly and pressed his fingertips on his eyelids. Am I going crazy? I don’t even remember waking up. He looked again at his hands, expecting to see someone else’s blood on them. What he saw was worse, someone else’s hands. His fingers look so thin, bony, like all the fat had been stripped away.

He stepped onto the porch, he saw Juan wave at him. At first he ignored him, then with a fretful look upwards, he shouted.

“Hey Juan. Can you come over here?

“Claro que si. What’s going on?” He wandered over. His walk was a bit odd, kind of dancy.

“Honest opinion. Do you think I look underweight for a man?”

“Hm? Nooo, you like fine amigo. Why’d you ask?” He stared at Juan as if expecting him to change his answer.

“Hey! It’s rough with all those big action movie stars and influencers these days. It can make you feel inadequate. But you look fine, swear to god.” Juan patted him on the shoulder. He smiled and stared into Juan’s eyes. Something in there reassured him. Adam pulled his forefinger and thumb together on his chin and nodded.

“I’ll bring you dinner after your work. My wife’s cooking can definitely fatten you. It will cheer you.” Juan said.

“Thanks.” Adam replied.

For a moment he thought he saw a look of despair appear on Juan’s face, but it quickly snapped back to a cheery demeanor.

“The results look promising. Our workgroup has really put together something special.” Whoever said. He was still learning names. He had just agreed to a date that night and he knew where to take her. He was just texting her the details back and forth. Everything back in NYC had a line or some need for reservations, not here. This was such a big state and pure open country, with the odd bit of green around the mountains.

“We predict that this product can sell two million units within five years. Our factory in Vietnam can start producing parts within a few months.”

I hate numbers. I always preferred painting and embroidery, he sighed.

“Adam, can we hear your presentation?” His boss asked.

“Uhm sure.” He stepped to the front and set up. “Based on local demographics we can probably-“

He heard his voice crack but he kept going. .” -appeal to everyone between the ages of 18 and 35 with this product.” He said

“Your voice sounds a bit squeaky today. Can you speak louder.” He did as his boss asked but he could hear it too. His voice was soft? He could barely project it. It was like something was holding him back. He could even feel like his throat was struggling to move some muscles or something.

“Maybe we can hear the rest tomorrow?” His boss raised his eyebrow.

“No problem!” He said giddily. As he walked to the seat, he noticed people looking between themselves. What else had they noticed?

As he stepped out a couple of blonde secretaries approached him with a sly look on their faces.

“Hi Adam.” One said.

“What’s up?” He replied.

“Soooo, we were wondering, what skin treatment do you use?”

“Water? I don’t know, what’s wrong with my skin?” He frowned.

“Oh, no uhm, actually nothing, it just looks so soft.” He immediately touched his skin in response. It did feel different. Almost perfect, like when he was a teenager.

“Don’t be embarrassed, it’s keeping you looking so young.” The other said with this kind of studious expression. Did they think he was gay? He tried to fathom an excuse.

“Alright, alright, you got me. Just stay out of the Texas sun and don’t use any harsh soaps.” He looked at them warily. One of them rolled their eyes. “Fine Mr New Yorker. Keep your secret.”

They walked away laughing and he again touched his skin in response. He thought he heard them say “Oh my god. Such a pretty boy. He even smells like a woman too.”

He met Alice at a local coffee shop at mid-afternoon. They ordered to go, and he started driving to the old fort ruins mentioned by Samantha. He aimed to get there at sunset for a thrilling view and all that. He was kind of surprised this northern girl, agreed to follow him into the hills. In reality, she was an uninformed outsider like him.

He was feeling her eyes on him, the like, whole time. She was suspicious about something, probably his body. He felt lacking in confidence since those secretaries sniped at him. The stress of moving here is probably what made him lose a little bit of weight. In fact the first thing the chick said was “You look way skinnier than your photo.” But damn if it didn’t suck being surrounded by all these Latino guys who seemed to be all on steroids.

After they made their way to the top. They set up the picnic. She opened her arms wide and searched for some breeze with her face. She stared off into the distance like the heroine in the end credits of a movie.

“Do you see all the muscle cars on the way ? The people here are such gas guzzlers. My dad bought me a Tesla back in Maine.” She said while sipping some wine.

He found himself more interested in the frontier fort than her conversations. He felt like he had seen it before… maybe on a brochure. He tried to dismiss the thoughts, but as the date went on the uncertainty grew. Like he had lived there and he was giving the place one final goodbye. The feeling of living longing just sank like lead in his stomach and wouldn’t shift.

Where is everyone?

“Are you happy you moved to Texas?” She asked.

“Everyone keeps asking me that. I really like it so far.” He took a bite of cheese and handed her the wine.

“Me too. But I might move to Houston where I hear it’s more diverse. And I’m sick of being stared at by assholes here.” She flipped off the sky, as if it was some gawker.

“Yeah agreed. I’m still young and kind of still want some kind of social life.” And I want to get away from all these nightmares.

He still kept getting distracted by the fort. His eyes trained on it like a beautiful woman. He felt like he needed to do something, to return somewhere. Like he was wasting his time here. He felt tears go down his cheek. Alice spotted them before he could wipe them away.

“Wow, that’s amazing. This view must really move you.” She smiled and said in a sweet connective way.

“Yeah, our planet is beautiful.” He said hurriedly. It sounded better than I don’t know why the fuck I’m sad.

“ So If you could rebuild this place would you?” Alice asked.

“Absolutely, I’d have all the kings horses and men there” He said.

“I think we were past all that then. More like cannons and riflemen.” She said.

“History buff?” He asked.

“My dad.” She said. He wasn’t a big fan of history. He preferred to focus on the future where the money was.

“This part of the Rio Grande used to be wide open, not like the trickle it is now.” He felt that. But he had no clue how he knew it.

“I thought you had never been here before?” She asked. I haven’t, I shouldn’t.

“I’m just generalising.” As she spoke on he did a double-take as he thought he saw the face of another woman. Probably just the lighting.

The sunset was nearly over. He wanted to kiss her, or he knew he should kiss her. Yeah it was the first date, but this really had been a fantastic choice of spot. He’d made worse first impressions. Yet… he just lingered on her. She had nice breasts, big red lips, honey hair. It’s like he wasn’t sure what to do with his attraction to her all of a sudden. The moment passed and she had this mopey look on her face. Damnit. Then he saw it again, another face. But now her eyes were white orbs, her face and teeth covered in blood. He held in a gasp of horror, and in a second it was gone again. She raised an eyebrow and nervously pointed to the car.

He dropped her off and gave her a hug. She was still enthusiastic as she hugged him back. It could be there was potential there. But as he gripped her he felt that sense of weakness again. Like he wasn’t enveloping her tight enough as a big strong man. And the lack of… desire. A placidness. Like he felt the same way as did with a good buddy or his mother.

 

He groaned as he tried to sleep. His dick felt strange. He tried to get hard earlier, but it wouldn’t budge. He had a lot of sexual frustration from wasting that date. And that was fucking annoying because he needed a way he could deal with all this madness happening.

 

These episodes could be masturbated away he thought. Raises endorphins, relaxes you… but shit why was he running around with knives? What if he shanked himself while sleepwalking? Ugh, forget it, Just stretch the old jacket until he was in sweet oblivion. He turned on the light and walked around the room a bit. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his shadow, but right next to it was another. A female one, the outline of her hair curls clearly visible. As he stared and fidgeted the shadow moved with his own. Then a hand appeared from the second shadow and then another and they seemed to reach for his neck.

“Stop!” He screamed, and it was gone. He stood staring at the spot where it was. A few minutes later he crawled into bed. He looked around his empty room and suddenly felt childlike vulnerability.

Ximena shivered from the cold air of the barrens. She leaned against a withered mesquite tree, her chest heaved with exhaustion. Her silk skirt was starting to accumulate tears. She put her arms around her legs. Francisca wrapped a blanket around her. “I didn’t poison that man”

“We did it.” Camila said. Ximena gasped and put her pretty face, in her pretty soft hands.

“You could have warned me!” She shook her head.

“Forgive me. You looked so miserable. I couldn’t stand the way he treated you lady Herrera. Not a second longer.” Francisca clambered to her knees and said frantically.

“I nearly died in there. I.. killed him. Will I go to hell? Is my soul damned?” She started sobbing.

“No lady Herrera. A disgusting toad like that deserves to die.” Francisca placed her hand on her shoulder.

“He treated everyone badly, or his slaves wouldn’t have let us go.” Camila added.

“But we had bedrooms and a fire and food and now we are criminals. We have nothing again! What have you done!?” She said with a hysterical broken tone. Her stomach sank with worry. “We are on the run. Someone will look for us. I should send you away.”

Francisca pulled out something shiny. Ximena’s eyes beamed. “My jewellery!”

“Do you think the same trick might work twice lady?” She asked.

“Maybe.” She replied.

“We can take back the riches the Americans stole in their war. At every household we go to.”

“I don’t know if it can really bring anything back. I don’t know if I can live that way.” Ximena sighed.

“Know that if you live here the Americans will make us suffer. At every turn.”

“Yes, you’re right, I hate them.“ She in a growling manner.

“My lady. Next time we’ll let you put the poison in. We’ll do it better, and we’ll be gone before morning. I know a Bruja’s tricks. Even more than you can imagine.” Ximena gave her an unsure smile. She had already killed one man. She knew her soul would be dammed no matter what Francisca said but… at least she could make their families suffer.

Adam found himself doing the dishes. His hands wrinkly and wet. He tightened his grip on the plate. Not again! His alarm rang. That was the final safety for work. Shit! He stampeded over the wooden flooring out the door. He felt nauseous, uneven, like something wasn’t right with his centre of gravity. It was like some kind of weight or body part was missing. After a moment to collect himself he shoved the keys in.

He found it so hard to concentrate on work. Not only because of his balance issues while moving around, but it was like he just didn’t understand it all? What did these concepts mean. He knew what Data-driven techniques meant earlier didn’t he? He was getting hot flushes all day too. Cramps in his stomach, then a hot flush, cramps then flush in the same cycle. By the end of the day he was frustrated and exhausted and his team seem irritated with him. His esteem was going down, he was supposed to be at the forefront but now he needed everything explained.

Adam spent the evening having another delicious meal with Juan and Samantha.

“Glad you came. It’s very important you try this other recipe. Imagine when your friends in New York hear. They’ll be so envious of your experiences” Samantha said.

“Let us pray.” Juan said just before they ate. Adam sighed. What a waste of time.

“Thank you god for eternal life everlasting.” Samantha said.

Juan looked at him and raised his eyebrows. “ You don’t believe?”

“Not at all. Sorry I guess.” Adam said bluntly.

“It’s my house and I’d like you to pray..” Juan commanded, like he was his father or something.

“Now now Juan. We need to respect his beliefs and wants too.” She said it while pretending she wasn’t laughing. It sounded like she didn’t respect his beliefs either.

“Ah right. You’re right, you always know how to calm me down.”

“I love you.” Samantha said.

“And I love you too” Juan replied.

It sounded affectionate but they showed no affection. He wondered why didn’t they kiss or something?

“It’s alright. I’ll pray with you, I don’t want any problems.”

Juan closed his eyes she smiled. Adam clasped together with them and let Juan lead the prayer.

That night he took a look at Alice’s profile. It was still in the time frame. He could get her back… he tried to imagine kissing her, being with her on the beach. Nothing.. nothing down below. Instead he just felt this comfy feeling. Like when he was hanging out with a friend. It’s like that, why can’t we be good friends? She seems cool.

“Look what the dragnet pulled in.” They pointed out Isabella. Her dark hair and eyes standing her out from the blondes and redheads around her.

“Dude why do you keep talking with that border hopper?” The tall guy said as they walked out of the cafeteria.

There was another guy with a big nose and his blonde hair brushed over. His backpack barely fitting on. “Who do you think she sucked off to get into this school?”

“Please lay off guys.” Adam said.

“Playing knight for the princess again? Come on dude. Stop defending the taco belle.” Tall guy said. The others sniggered. He looked between them and let out a strained laugh.

“I..yeah… she’s good at math, she’s helping me with homework. I’m like all for pure American pie guys.“ He said as he turned the corner right into Amelia. Her face looked defeated.

Except that wasn’t her face. He looked to his side and saw his friends had disappeared.

She kissed him, he felt compelled to kiss back. But her breath tasted like ash.

“Nasty American boy, weak minded boy, but don’t worry. We can fix that. We are going to fix a lot of things.”

She was suddenly behind him, rubbing the back of his neck. Her sensual caramel accent wafting around him. “We are going to be together forever.”

“You want to touch this body don’t you? But I won’t let you have it. Not that way. You won’t need to feel guilty about being in the body of a Mexican woman, like you felt guilty about being with one.” She gave him something between a snarl and a smirk, then she was in front of him again. He opened his mouth to speak but his lips moved in an exotic rhythm, a foreign voice coming out and beating him to the punch.

“Such pale skin, such shining blue eyes! How can I resist staring into them. How can I not pluck them out!”

She raked him across the face, straight over his big blues. It took a moment to register, until he saw blood filling his vision.

He woke up with a yelp and clutched at his face. He pulled his hand away to see a trickle of blood on his palm. All he could remember was seeing Amelia… I hadn’t thought about her since mom mentioned it and that was the first time in forever. He made his way into the bathroom and looked in the mirror with horror. He grabbed a strand of hair. It looked like someone had poured growth formula on his scalp. His wild hair was down to his shoulders. Dyed black, and his skin looked like he’d spent the night under a tanning bed. He pushed and pulled it as if something would come off. Shit it’s real, it didn’t disappear. Need to fix this, need to fix it!

I used to have such pale skin until the wandering days. I hope it doesn’t get too dark. A thought slipped through.

He went to the hairdresser and had it cut off, but as he spent every horrid second glaring at himself in the mirror he realised his face wasn’t his own. His nose was a different shape. The bridge was less pronounced. And his lips looked so red and juicy. He felt an urge, to pout, to flicker his eyelashes and look cute and be noticed . Moment to moment he began to regret his decision. Deep soulful regrets. Why was he cutting his beautiful luscious hair? It was important wasn’t it? The confused hairdressers kept gossiping in Spanish behind his back. He was getting better at the guessing game of tone, volume and body language. “Why is he cutting his nice hair? Why is it so long? Why does he look like a girl? A teenager looking like that I understand, but a grown man?” He just wanted out of here as soon as possible.

Short hair isn’t among the fashion in Mexico City and Madrid. How in the world will you find a husb..wife, with such a travesty?

“Miss Herrera, what do you think of my statue garden? Ain’t it speak to your soul?”

“Of course, Mr Graham. You have better taste than most. Those whispers of the beauty of your estate is what led me here.” His statues were beautiful. This man was not, he was skinny, like a skeleton. His bald head was a harsh shade of red compared to the rest of his skin. His nose was big, flaky and a little purple, probably from pickling himself in the midday sun all day with whisky.

“These are Roman in style?” She asked. Her Grandfather told her such beauty was common in Seville. Some of her family was from there, others of more… mixed heritage. They say uniquely Mexican and Texan.

“Surprised a girl like you knows about this. Do you Mexicans even got books?” He chuckled. She nodded and spoke slowly. “Very short ones. We are just a young country.”

Piece of shit. Her estate was nearly as big as this. She was already picturing him croaking on the floor.

“Let me introduce you to my ranch hand Ricardo. Can’t have no slaves for our guests. Boy get over here!” He said cheerfully.

From the stables emerged the tallest and most handsome man Ximena had ever seen. He had these mischievous green eyes that reminded her of old wives tales of gypsies.

“Can you show Miss Herrera and her servants to her rooms? You know the spare ones?“

“Mr Graham.” He flashed a quick smile and beckoned her. When she saw that smile she knew she needed to have him.

“Es un honor, señora.” (It’s an honour my lady.)

“No usted necesita llamarme señora.” (You don’t need to call me lady)

“Incluso en trapos su espíritu brilla” (Even in rags your spirit shines.)

She pawed at her neck nervously. She gave her another disarming gaze and beckoned her on. As she stared at the muscles on his back, her little madam started to get wet. The ranches had lots of men like him, although the ones in the big house were usually more handsome. But, oh god, he was both. She tried to straighten her back and to fix her expression into something more pure.

That day he decided to make use of the pool of Juan and Samantha. It was odd since there were no other guests. He was bald, and looked like some kind of lizard person but they didn’t mention that either. They just kept waving to him. The coolness water got him meditative. In New York business culture, if you asked anyone for help, it was a weakness. Yet the culture here was so different.

He stumbled as he left the edge of the pool. His eyes blinked in the sunlight as his head tilted and he fell forwards onto the deck chair. A sense of unreasonable guilt was flowing through him, just before he blacked out.

Ximena heard the admonishments of Francisca still in her mind as she waited behind a well.

“That man is too old for you. He’s been married already I bet.”

“He hangs on his paymaster’s every word. Don’t trust him”

She felt two hands tickling her sides. She wrung her hand back around to tickle him back. She raised up her heels slightly to get to his eye level then dropped.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve seen a girl like you?” He asked.

“Oh, please inform me.” She stood with her hands on her hips proudly.

“Look down the well.” She obliged him

“A long time ago I used to see the Lady of the Well. I imagined she was a goddess of the water. I even used to sing to her. And I imagined she would sing back.”

“So can I see your special lady?”

“You can see her now.”

She sighed. Of course, she could see her reflection. He just laughed behind her.

“How incredibly stupid.” She tried to hold back her smile.

The ranchero had a name. A beautiful name. Shouldn’t I remember it? Isn’t it worth hearing out loud? No, to hell with him.

“Come on Adam. Time for a meal. We’ll introduce you to something new” He was sitting facing the pool.

“Vengo Francisca!” He shouted back in a petulant tired tone. The intonation hardly his own.

“Francisca?” He questioned. Then the scent overrided his brain. God the food smelled good. They were both true saints for doing this for free. As he rose out of the chair he looked at his arm. He had such a tan. But after dinner it turned into something else. It was deeper, like the melanin in his skin had changed. The tone looked all wrong. And it fucking burned. Worse than any scalding he had received in his life. He put some ice packs on it but they seemed to make it worse. As their meal went on he felt more and more nauseous. His skin was pouring out unnaturally thick sweat, and it stunk.

He frustratedly flicked through more porn on his phone. He was stressed, he needed this. He was actually hurting his dick as he tried to prone masturbate on the sheets. Gotta empty the tank. But the skin was still burning from whatever the hell was going on with his skin. It was over his entire body, including his penis, and he definitely didn’t sit on the chair with his dangler out.

He shifted back to the porn. He found himself disinterested in the tits, his favourite part. He knew that tits being soft and big was good. The hard taut nipples and moaning should excite him. Yet, they didn’t, it was like he read it all in a textbook but there was no experience of it. Worse, he started to notice things about cocks he’d never thought of before. Their power, their rigidness.

He tried to switch approaches, to take in Alice, her beautiful happy, approachable face. Those high cheekbones. That gym toned body and ass. But he found himself thinking more about the nice time they had together. The nice video calls and deep talks they’d had. They should be friends. No.. no way, I am still that guy that women would drool at in the bar. He imagined himself mounting her. He imagined… what… does the inside of a vagina feel like. He tried to recall memories of his dick inside of a woman, it’s wet, everyone knows that. He pounded his palm into his forehead… nothing. I’ve been inside one, I know it! He tried to imagine Alice in every sexual position possible, but each was as stale as the next. It was more like imagination than memory. I can do it, god damnit. I’ve done it. What’s wrong?

He called her.

“So hey Alice. I was wondering if we could meet. I’ve heard there is a nice rafting place near where we went last time.” She took so long to answer he thought she’d hung up.

“I..I’m sorry Adam. I don’t think we should really meet. Unless, just as friends.” He frowned. What the hell, he wasn’t used to this treatment.

“Why?” He asked.

“Sorry but sex is important.” She said almost apologetically. You don’t seem interested.”

“I didn’t want to rush you.”

“Well, that’s fine, but I can’t take months of out my life to wait for you to develop feelings for me.”

He folded his arms. A deep part of him thought why didn’t she kiss him? Chase him for a little bit instead. Who does she think she is?

“It’s been two weeks.”

“We’ve texted a few times since that date, and you weren’t well dressed the last time we spoke.“

“Oh excuse me. I thought you were this laid back casual girl.” He gave her an expression between confusion and irritation.

“I meant you were basically wearing your pyjamas. And you seem even sicker.” She said sadly.

“I’ve been through worse.” She gave him an exasperated look.

“Dude, you have like completely changed appearance. I need to check the call tag every time to make sure. You’re bald now and look..”

“Like what?” He said stone faced. She slid her lips hesitantly.

“Like you have some weird liver disease or something. You need help.” She emphasised the final word.

“Fuck you bitch, your expectations are too high. Have you seen yourself? Talk about plain!” She gasped but he shut down the call and blocked her.

He folded his arms and pouted. That idea of being friends, of her rejecting him, that should piss him off. He knew that, but like a lot of things lately it just didn’t seem to matter anymore. Why would I want to be with a woman. I’m not one of those people. It’s against the law of the Bible anyway. I’m not a sinner. He took one last look at a photo of her and deleted it. Stupid blonde.

“Why did you let them these horrible things about me?” You said.

Adam didn’t look you in the eye.

“I dunno what you are talking about?” He said, fidgeting and trying to buy time.

“Anita said that your friend said I was probably going back to a drug dealer father and fruit seller mother. My father loves me. He is a businessman.”

“It was just a joke.”

“It’s all they ever say. Did you even tell them you kissed me?” You said.

Adam didn’t reply. She stared at him with her big brown eyes until finally he let out a sigh.

“I told them.”

“You told them I was European I heard. And they didn’t believe you?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course. Dios mio. You are ashamed me right? Gutless asshole. If you can’t stand up to your friends for me then you don’t deserve to be part of my life.” You threw a book at him and turned away. You were so furious but also felt pity. What a coward. Guess he wasn’t as kind as she thought.

Why am I thinking about this? It was more than a decade ago.

He stood rooted on the spot. Not that long ago is it? This is what my people were reduced to it seems. Do you feel her pain? This is what a girl feels with a worthless cowardly boy like you.

“They mocked her and you did nothing.” Her voice was closer, like a predator. 

 

 

 

“You call yourself a man? The fact that you are allowed to exist and reap the benefits of those who worked hard. It disgusts me.”

“Leave me alone!”

He raged against his own self-loathing. Then a blast of blurred colours rushed in.

“Hey! Hey you!”

He instantly felt the warmth of the sun on the skin. Why was he standing? And there was something in his grip. A.. a hammer.

He stepped back, hands on the back of his head. Fear rolled down his spine. He was standing with a weapon out in the open. There was a bronze statue placed on a granite pedestal. His eyes were drawn to the plaque.

“In honour of James Fannin who claimed victory over the Mexican Army at the battle of Concepcion.”

He felt revulsion, malevolence. As if he could murder someone right there and then. He wanted to smash the head off the thing and just break it into a million pieces. Toss it into the deepest darkest cave. Kill the builders and burn the architect. He could feel a pressure inside him, something angry that wanted to escape. Something that gave pride to many Texans was causing him such pain. He lifted up the hammer.

“Die again bastard!” He said with a cadence not his own. He felt a soft wrinkled hand grab his wrist.

“Stop!” A meek strained voice shouted.

“Why? What am I doing?” He asked.

“If you don’t step back I’m calling the cops. Damn vandal. Take your midlife crisis and go get a hooker or something.” The tall old woman said.

He looked at the hammer, he felt a malevolent presence from it. Something old. He threw it onto the ground and ran.

He fumbled for a light switch. He saw the other shadow again, but this time it was a conjoined twin. Split torsos, that quickly merged together into one the moment he noticed. had considered running into the house of Juan and Samantha. He could tell his parents. But they would think he’s going insane. His vision burned away at the edges, as if he was going blind. Then, he fell onto the coffee table and bounced on the floor.

Ximena snuggled up with the ranchero and kissed him. Their passion has been so raw and unguarded. Not like she had been told love and seduction should be. She was glad she got to choose someone. She looked up at him expectantly, but her brow started to furrow as he only stared sadly.

“What did you want to talk with me about?” She walked a small circle around him.

“I saw your servants with the food this morning. That doesn’t look like any old ingredient I’ve ever seen.”

Ximena froze and stopped, she turned, her expression growing distrustful. The ranchero continued.

“Leave him alone. He’s a nice man, we have wonderful lives here” He put his hand on her cheek. “We can keep having having wonderful lives.” He went to kiss her but she backed away.

“He’s an American! An invader! He grows fat and disgusting on what is ours.” She pointed at the land around them.

“His family has been here nearly as long as mine and yours, he just bought this plantation. He’s treated me well.”

“Stupid! Traitor!” She shouted.

“Keep your voice down, they’ll hear you.” He approached her and she backed off a little more.

“So?”

“He’s got former soldiers in his employ. They’ll put you down and there won’t be enough left to bury you.” He shook his head.

“He’ll be dead.” She said. “That’s enough.”

“He saved my life Ximena. He gave me a job when no one else would! He doesn’t see the world the way his kind often do. You just haven’t been here long enough to see it!” He pleaded. Ximena scoffed.

“Fine, we won’t touch him. But I won’t stay here any longer. I’ll leave you… and we will move on. “ She sighed, her voice tightened.

“Come with us tonight.” He shook his head and her face distorted with pain.

“Soon, they will join the United States, I’m sure of it. Then any chance of taking our land back will be gone!”

“Please, you aren’t making sense. No more talk of death. Let’s just sit and think about a future together.” He tried to touch her again.

She pushed him. “No, I won’t let my Father just slip away into memory.”

“He fought the war and lost Ximena. The land is lost. You can’t keep the fight going for him. Little girls like you don’t fight wars.”

“Stop talking down to me. You think you can talk to me like this because you have a few years on me. Do you know how many men are dead because of me? Huh!?” She pushed him but barely had an effect.

“No, I just meant-“

“You are a coward!” He saw the pain in her eyes and shook his head.

“Enough! Rich little girl throwing all you have away. What’s wrong with you?”

“Yes because that’s what true patriots do.”

He tutted, then wearily stood up and looked her directly in the eyes. “Fine, go learn the truth at the end of the rope!”

“Fine.” She started to cry as she ran away. She spent the night wide awake, worried about what he would do and what she was capable of doing.

Adam moaned and made little sobs of pleasure as he played with his nipples. He was imagining the face of no one specific, but it was masculine. He knew this was wrong. It was disgusting, but it made him so hard. He began to rub the head of his dick between his fingers like a clit. Eventually he felt himself come. Nothing came out, just a feeling of mild relief, then mini starbursts of pleasure all over his body. Every muscle he had relaxed as the bed sucked him down, holding him right for what felt like minutes.

He slowly sat up from the hard floor. I just phased out there again. He looked at his hand expecting to see sticky cum but there was nothing. Not even pre-cum. He looked at his penis and gasped. It was shrunk, barely bigger than a young boy’s. And then he saw them. Two disc sized bumps and the enormous brown excited nipples on top.

He screamed. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck. No.. no! Not more of this bullshit.” He felt so helpless. He started to feel faint, like the life force was being sucked out of him. Why was this happening to him? He tried hopelessly to make connections to his past days. Where had he been? what had he eaten? This things looked like they didn’t belong on his body at all. They might as well have been two enormous ticks latched onto his chest. They even still had little chest hairs on them.

He spent all day in fear that someone could see the changes. His penis could barely reach the urinals and he was practically dry humping it. The lumps on his chest were maybe… tumours, but they were so sensitive. They caused no pain. Yet, He just had this urge to rub them and soothe them. Luckily he didn’t need to talk to anyone more than needed that day. He instead thought about all the strange episodes and daydreams he’d been having. He took out a notepad during a meeting and wrote them in order. He kept forgetting how to use his phone. It had a passcode? What was that? Passcode. A special number like 4256. Anyways those episodes... They told a story maybe, or maybe he was schizophrenic. He almost wrote a whole letter to himself as he brainstormed solutions.

This could happen again and again?

I want to commit violence but why?

Why is my body changing?

No one will believe you.

That night he was sick in the toilet. There were bloody chunks in his vomit. The lumps on his chest, and now this. Did he have cancer? That happened to a kid at his high school at only sixteen. Was he gonna just peak at thirty? Fuck, no, no. He wasn’t going to die. That’s it, hospital tomorrow. Stop being so damn proud. They had all those prostate cancer ads on the TV when he was a kid. Guess those applied to him now.

Ximena squealed as the men grabbed her. She flailed in panic. I’m going to die. I’m going to die. Then she felt cold iron against her neck. Another pressure in the gut. The fear from gun at her stomach made her want to vomit. Her eyes darted around frantically. Both Camila and Francisca had left without her. Did… Ricardo do this? I thought you loved me? She felt a bang at the back of her head

He was sick into the toilet once again before morning. More fleshy chunks. He crawled back into bed. He tried to masturbate again quickly. But his interest was lost halfway through the first time. It was like he wasn’t in the mood, but he was always in the mood. It felt like it was taking forever, and. it didn’t work right anymore. After really forcing it, he felt just soft tingles again and that sense of full body warmth. No intense powerful masculine rope of cum, no watery fluid.

It took him a moment to settle. He felt a distressing emptiness below his abdomen, as if there was a crushed windpipe that needed an opening. Desperate to breath. He felt back exhausted and defeated into another dream.

——————-

As she stood with the cord around her neck. She smiled as she saw her trusted two servants in the crowd. Then as the cord was tightened, her expression sullied. The Americans gave her a trial, although one of them commented on how sad it was to waste her beautiful body and they should sell her to a Madame. How generous of them.

“Ximena Herrera. You are found guilty of the deceitful poisoning and murder of at least three hospitable men who showed you kindness. Calvin Douglas, Emmett Reeves and Henry Armstrong. Do you have any last words?”

“We see each other all again very soon! Thieves and murderers all of you!” She spat as far as she could. Some of the crowd booed back and many of them spat too. But some of the crowd caught her eyes, they knew she meant it. She said some quiet prayers as her legs shook.

“Then by the authority invested in me by the state of Texas. You will hang by your neck until dead. May God have mercy on your soul.”

She screamed, her eyes bulging as the cord tightened. Then the trapdoor swung upon as she dropped.

He jolted up, the painful sound of jeers surrounded him. His neck felt like a boot was pressing on it. As he tried to twist he realised he couldn’t move it. He felt a sense of panic and burning adrenaline shoot through his heart.

.Need to get up, need to call someone! Can’t breath, I can’t breath. He hyperventilated as he threw his body around, hands clutched around his own throat. His vision was fading. He tried to fiddle with his phone but squeezed out cries of frustration as he didn’t know how to use it. He crawled towards the door and as his throat felt an inch wide, he screamed a mad scream. A banshee scream that only the damned understand. There was a cracking pain in his back. And then it all just stopped.

He barely thought as he sped to the hospital. He nearly crashed on the way there as he kept reaching for his knowledge on how the thing works. It’s a car, it’s like a horse. You press the lever on the floor. Then all these other strange metal machines on the road moved to fast for him to keep track of. Why didn’t they slow down? He was only a girl. They needed to be sweeter.

“How old are you Mr Robson?

“I put it down on the form.” He replied snappily. He nearly forgot that too, and nearly every other detail about himself.

“Right, you put 30 years old, but you are in amazing condition. I’m astounded. So, did you really put the correct age?” He asked with this patronising tone. That made him furious.

“I’m not fucking lying. Don’t talk down to me!” He jerked closer to the Doctor, then folded his arms.

“I just want the truth so I can help you better.”

The Doctor gave him a consoling smile. The skinny thirty year old old ‘male’ in front him didn’t even look male, let alone thirty… more like eighteen. The examination was odd. The lumps on his chest felt like breast tissue. The nipples looked like an underdeveloped female’s. But the X-Rays would show the truth. He wouldn’t be the first person self-medicating themselves under psychosis he’d dealt with.

“If it is cancer, maybe that’s why you lost weight.” The Doctor said matter of factually. He felt annoyance again.

“Right that’s why I came here. God!.” Cancer? That’s… like… a disease? Like the plague?

“Listen, I’ll run some blood tests, then I’ve got a space open for an X-Ray this afternoon. My professional opinion is we start right away to check if it’s cancer. But you need to calm down, the news could be good.” The Doctor kept his finger over the enter key as if waiting for an answer.

Adam sighed. “Sorry, please put me down for it.”

He couldn’t sleep that night for obvious reasons. What if it was terminal? He couldn’t die, he had accomplished so much. He was just starting a new chapter in his life. It wasn’t fair.

More pains kept him delirious during the night. All over his joints and spine. Dull aches that he hadn’t felt since his growth spurts. Even his fucking jaw kept locking in place. This is such a shitty way to go. Was he going to wake up again?

Approaching the door’s glass window, he realised he barely stood halfway up. His six-foot height had been decimated by a few inches. His jaw was curvier and his shoulders seemed less wide, but only a little. As he was about to step out, he got a call. He stared at the phone again until he realised he had to press the green button.

“Hello… Mr…Robson?” The nurse said.

“I know this may embarrass you, and that’s why you didn’t write… it but we were wondering if you have any kind of intersex condition?”

“Interwhat? Are you fucking joking me?” He said sharply.

“Please remain calm. No sir. There appears to be a small warped uterus in your abdomen. Are you sure you aren’t a little confused?” She said.

“I’m..” He stalled for a moment. “I’m a man, stop talking to me like this! Stop talking down to me!” His plump lips quivered. The nurse sighed.

“Fine, ok ok. sir, It might be an error on the X-Ray. We can check again tomorrow when the specialist is in.” The term X-Ray raised another blank in his mind.

“Yeah, you do that.” She wished him a good day but he just grunted. He rubbed the palms of his hands into his face and screamed. These bumps are tits, and now I have a uterus, I’m becoming a woman. Or some kind of freak. This can’t be happening, it can’t be happening! Why is this happening? He rested his head in his palm. You don’t just grow a uterus without hormones. I don’t think you can grow a uterus at all? Hahahaha, maybe it’s why I’m having all those strange thoughts. My body’s fucked up. It’s trying to rationalise it. Why I look like a freak. Why am I a freak? No woman will sleep with me again like this. It’d be like sleeping with a girl. This is why I can only get off to dudes now. Can’t deny it any longer. I can’t even be a lesbian. Just cocks and balls in the mouth and up my ass.

He walked back into the living room. They wouldn’t even let him into the work building like this. His identification doesn’t fit his face. What started the reaction? It was that Mexican guy. It all started when I met them. They did it. Put some oestrogen or something in my food. Fucking weirdos! Fucking pretending to be my friends so they can experiment on me. They are probably mad scientists or something. Assholes with their perfect family.

He smashed his fist into their door but his softening, thinning skin easily broke. He winced and started hammer fisting instead. Juan answered the door, dressed in shorts and t shirt.

“You! What have you been putting in my food? In my brain. Something’s wrong, really wrong!” He said while stepping around the doorstep.

“Calm yourself. Calm yourself.”

“The Food!?” He screeched. His voice breaking to a higher haughty tone.

Juan rolled his eyes. “Puta madre… ok you want the recipe? You need-“

“Oh you’d love me to shovel more of your shit down your mouth right. Don’t ignore me. Think you can outsmart me huh?

“What?”

“I thought you were being kind. Hah! Should of trusted my gut.”

“I’m sorry if I made you upset Adam. I think you are just under a lot of pressure from the recent moving.” He scratched the back of his head.

“Look at me! Do I look like the same person from the day we met? I’m turning into a woman.”

Juan faked a good ‘I don’t know nothing’ face but he’d seen it all before.” Loco. Enfermo. You need see the doctor.”

“Oh I already did, and they said I’m growing a fucking uterus. I’m gonna have a nice pretty pussy soon probably, how about that?” He pointed to his crotch. Juan laughed in disbelief.

“Listen, you need to get the hell away from my house, come to me in the morning when you calm down. And more better you have an apology for my wife too.” He folded his arms and stood as if blocking the doorway.

“No! I ain’t going anywhere near you. This all started with you! Stay the fuck away from me!”

Juan stood with his mouth open as he ran back to his house. But the way he ran felt wrong, the sway of his hips and movement of his arms. The lightness of his steps on the concrete. The ways he wanted to move them.

Messages on his phone pinged from co-workers. He put his hand on his stomach and closed his eyes. It was like a miracle or something. He wasn’t religious but he spent the last hour researching on this internet. You just don’t grow a uterus it seems. That’s true. It’s against all the laws of god, nature and human technology. No food or hormones could do it either. At least from what he could understand. Half the words didn’t make sense to him. He owed Juan and Samantha an apology at least.

So that left magic and the divine. Had he been blessed? Were those strange thoughts like visions? Was he going to give birth to fucking Jesus with his magic womb? He always just wanted to fit in with the average life. Now he was a special freak getting ready to give birth to the another freak, praise the messiah.

He felt around for the notes he had written from work. It was all half scribbled. He was going to give them to a psychiatrist, but it occurred to him these trances of memories definitely started at the same time as his transformation. He had noted out all the times and days too. They were all closer together. Then the name, a name he heard over and over. There really was a story.

After several attempts to get into his laptop, a knot tightened in his gut as he scoured the internet for information once again. Names… Ximena, the chick was called Ximena. Poisonings…

He found a recent dramatic creepy video on her. Ximena Herrera, the rattlesnake of Old Mexico. This nineteen-year-old murderess made ends meet by seducing men or taking advantage of the hospitality of decadent patriarchs in the state of Texas. He felt a pang of annoyance.

Seductress? Well that’s not entirely true.

How she was able to survive and thrive is a mystery. But horrible screams and the sight of a beautiful but deathly pale girl has haunted the area for a century. It is ill advised to stay where her spirit treads. The last decade has seen more than two disappearances in the area.

“Ghost stories now. A different type of supernatural than I was expecting. I can’t believe this but, I didn’t know a damn thing about it. Yet.. I know what to search. I know the story like I lived it.“

There were some debates about this, but they placed the general legend of ranch around twenty kilometres east. That was close, definitely no coincidence. He grabbed his keys and then paused.

Big if, that it’s really a ghost. Is charging in there going to help?

You’re a New Yorker. You’ve seen people do worse to each other on the subway than any stupid ghost.

He thought he heard an unhinged giggle from deep in his mind. Then he felt as if he was amused at his own fear.

“I better go to a church.”

He hesitated and took in a wide sigh as he opened the chapel doors. He saw the priest inspecting the seats. I recalled once heading into a church for some Christmas celebration. That was when they just basically forced you. He considered turning back before he looked up. Here it goes…

“Father..” He looked straight at him, ignoring the surroundings.

The small priest looked up. He forced down a lump in his throat.

“Miss. How can I help you?” He said with a serious furrowed brow. Miss..

“Let’s sit down first.” Adam pointed to one of the seats. The priest did as asked. Upon joining him the green-eyed priest said. “I’m Father Garcia.” Adam nodded.

“I think I’m possessed, or the target of some hex or something.”

The priest offered him a grave expression. “What has been happening? When did it start?”

“For three weeks now. I’ve had numerous ridiculously detailed visions. And… I’m physically changing into a female.” The words sounded even worse out loud. The priest shifted on the seat. His gaze bore deep, but it wasn’t malicious.

“And there is no medical explanation for these things.”

“None.” The Priest didn’t immediately laugh, that gave him such a sense of relief.

“I can contact someone to perform an exorcism but some requirements need to be met. You need to be seen.”

“Are you kidding me? Are you saying servants of God have bureaucracy? You’re supposed to be heroes. I’m going to talk to this spirit. I know where she haunts.” He waved a hand dismissively.

“No no, You should wait! You can’t debate with the damned. They are ruled by emotion. You might make this situation worse.”

“Listen, I’m not sure I believe this shit, but I have grown new body parts. You have to do it now.”

“Bring me these medical documents, with evidence of that we can surely speed it up.” Adam felt like he needed to wretch, like he needed to wretch up pure hateful words. His blood began to boil. “We shouldn’t have come here.” The voice echoed from both inside and outside his mind. He looked around frantically. Then the bile spilled out.

“I will go where I please pathetic priest. You’re all talk..” He made something between a cackle and a giggle.

“Who am I speaking to?” The priest stared into her eyes.

“I don’t have to answer to you sheep. Where is my afterlife? Where is paradise? For decades I’ve been nothing but memories, just yolk of an egg.” Adam’s voice had a feminine cadence now.

“I demand you leave this body.” She let out a wicked laugh, high and regal in tone.

“This body is mine now, and soon will everything else that belonged to this man.” Adam smirked at the priest then blinked and looked at the priest with an expression of defeat. He started crying. The first time in years. He didn’t want to say these things, he didn’t want it to be true. But it was like his subconscious was vetoing his exertions of will. His efforts mere suggestions.

“The spirit has her hooks in your soul. I will contact them right away.” The priest placed his hand on his shoulder. “Let me write down your name.”

“Adam Robson.” He said.

“What’s wrong?”

“I was expecting something more Spanish. Blessed Jesus what has she done to your body.” It dawned on him that his accent didn’t sound right this entire conversation. He’d lost his general American and started slipping into something Latino, just like Juan.

“It will be a few weeks.” Adam slammed his fist into the bench.

“Ugh! I won’t last that long. I can feel her taking over again.”

“She could destroy you” the priest said. Adam spread his hands. What choice am I left with?

“If you persist on this madness then you better do what I tell you. You may save some of yourself.” Adam hard nodded

“What’s that?”

“Take this cross and say this psalm. Don’t stop until you finish no matter what happens.”

Despite nearly crashing more. He drove slowly through the scrubby fields, passed abandoned buildings and dried up streams until he reached that monolithic rock from the photo. Just beyond were once the lands of this woman Ximena. He got out his vehicle. The outlines of mountains with a light glow dominated the distance. But the heat and wind here were kind. This was her little slice of paradise in this barren shithole.

“Come out! I know you’re here.” He shouted into the dead simmering air.

“No voy a salir. Me gusta dentro de ti. Nadando en tus fluidos.” (I’m not coming out. I like it here, inside you, swimming in your fluids.)

He span on his heels. He thought someone whispered in his ear, but then he realised his own lips had moved. Shit, I’m losing control of myself.

“Please listen to me. Who did this to you?”

His reddened flushed lips moved on their own accord. His voice sounded like ah effeminate man now rather than his original. The accent clearly Mexican.

“The people who did this are long dead. So am I, but not for long.”

He replied to himself. He cautiously stepped over the last layer of a wall. He felt a rush of despair.

“I’m such a crazy puta. These people are gone and their work long set in stone.” He said to himself as he searched for something like a grave or..

He stopped dead at patch of ground that looked just like any other. Then he had a marvellous sensation of euphoria.

“This is where I saw born.” He imagined himself been swaddled in a pink blanket. He felt tears flowing… and then he railed against the idea. He was born thousand of miles from here.

“Just tell me what you want!?” She shouted.

“I want you to shut up so our breasts can grow.” He groaned as he felt like something was putting pressure from inside the buds on his chest.

“I want you to die.” He wailed while raking his own face.

“I want you to accept who you are now. This is your new body whether you want it or not.” He felt his entire being drawn to another spot. It seemed he had only one thing left to say, if he was dead anyway.

“If this is going to be my new body at least use it carefully.” He said with resignation.

“Maybe you’re right.” He felt the fury that had been bubbling up dissipate for a moment. “I… no! No!

As he approached the centre of the building foundation, he began to feel freezing. A bang in his head instantly preceded a peak in agony. Each step numbed his limbs more and more until he went limp face forward to the floor as if from potent venom. His numb limbs twitched one by one. The very blood in his veins began to change in consistency, into someone else’s. Carrying memory in its own right. Memories that had been kept for the right moment.

“Your body contains the blood of those who spilled mine. I will not abide that.” He said with a gutters whisper.

He imagined himself looking out from a beautifully adorned window.

“Cuando vuelva padre?” He heard the thunder of hooves in the distance as some men in the distance came back from driving cattle. He ran past trophies of his family’s legacy, portraits of conquistadors radiating power. He saw his father. His groomed moustache and dark brown hair, longer than the average man’s. It made him look like a prince. He loved papa.

Wh-what, no! I never lived on a ranch, what’s happening to me? What’s happening to my body. That’s not my dad. Where am I? Help!? A sense of doom overcame him. There was nowhere to run, no where to hide.

New patches of sensitivity spread out over his body. He indulged in pleasure, feeling like an aquifer was opening beneath his nipples. Milk leaked in trickles down the curves. Unseen forces pricked and agitated them. They stood erect like two thimbles. He moaned as the two breast buds became glorious tits, pushing through the muscle and sinew of his chest and returning to the world. Ready to mesmerise men as they had nearly two centuries ago.

“Guess I’m a late bloomer” He giggled madly.

His androgenised body began to embrace complete femininity. Embrace Latina beauty. Her release of pain remodelled it faster and faster. His arms and legs shredded what little muscle was left until he was no stronger than the teenager. The teenager he really was. His memories of being strong, of lifting up girlfriends or physically pushing through others evaporated. His limbs felt tired, drained. A sense of existential panic overwhelmed him. He pulled out the cross and tried the biblical phrase he’d been taught. He clutched it to his chest.

“He who dwells in the shelter of the most high will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.”

“That only works if you believe in God. You fool.” He laughed with a regality that could only belong to a learned woman.

His mind fissured as he felt like he was speaking to himself. Rounding in a circular argument as one tried to out shout and convince the other.

“Throw it away.”

“No.”

“Throw it away.”

“No.”

“I won’t die again.”

“First time for everything.”

“Just let my being swallow you whole. Caress you. It won’t hurt to just forget I promise.”

The symbol dropped to the floor and he let out a scream as he felt excruciating pain in his privates. He tore off his pants and thumped backwards at what he saw. His pathetic three quarters cock looked like it had been savaged. Blood ran along the edges. He tried to touch it in his shock but the pain intensified. At first he knew he was horrified by the state of the penis. Bloodied, slowing dying. But then he was stricken by something else. Revulsion, confusion, of even having a penis at all. Little trickles of sperm painfully shot out. His final loads. It didn’t belong in this body. He heard a tearing sound. Then watched dumbstruck as it just fell off. His heart nearly stopped. The leftover stub shrunk into a tiny nub, and began to move up the rippling groin which was as soft and pliable as river clay. He barely had time to contemplate this before he was left with a smooth thin skinned groin.

Another scene of memories made him writhe in agony. Soldiers bearing a strange flag stormed the hacienda. The clang of steel against steel and gunshot rang out. He saw his father, defiant and proud gunned down at the entrance. His blood poured out over the dark wood floor.

You will pay. You will redress.

He scratched his fingers through the dusty ground. Convulsing and unable to think, barely conscious except a tiny fortress holding on in his brain. The lower part of uterus that had been growing inside all week expanded into a full body of one, carving out its rightful place above his bladder. Two tubes connecting with his former testicles. The passage began to grow towards the smooth area and as the two met, the skin split the thin skin open and moulded the edges into vaginal lips. He felt a warm throbbing as arteries and nerves began to spread around the new organ. The nub settled at the top sticking out slightly erect.

She began playing with her little madam, at first thinking about the farm boys who used to work on her Father’s ranches on the Rio Grande. This feeling as life incarnate. But then she remembered a new passion. Revenge.

This isn’t right, it feels so wrong. This doesn’t belong on my body.

“Don’t worry, It won’t be your body much longer.” The parasitic bundle of memories said mockingly. “It belongs to my life now American. Mi casa es tu casa. You are becoming me and there is nothing you can do about it.” He wasn’t sure this was really that girl Ximena, his own shifting sense of self, or just the forces of the universe taunting him. He was disappearing all the same. He didn’t want to disappear.

He felt the ache of a phantom limb. The absence of something that should have been there until he was put in the ground. Instead, he just had an emptiness that was quickly filling up with more and more euphoric feeling with each rub.

His shaven head began to sprout waves of sable hair rapidly. He pulled at it and sobbed in despair.

His face twisted and turned in every way imaginable: It might as well have went blank as he felt, knew, that his own features were disappearing one by one. His sweet blue eyes widened and stretched and after a brief moment of darkness, molten brown ones took their place.

“Pale sky. Now brown eyes. Trustworthy.”

My face, not my face. Give me back my face, my nose, my lips. Take away this American man’s face! Fuck, no give me back my face.

“Are you still talking about that? It looks beautiful.” He said to himself.

He willed his fingers to stop playing with himself. Even though he… Ximena wanted to badly. He couldn’t give in, he wasn’t a young woman, he was an accomplished professional. A man, an accomplished man.

It’s the only relief I have some days. As long as they don’t see me.

He looked up and saw..

“Samantha, Juan. What are you doing here? Por qué ustedes están aquí?”

Juan knelt down and began to hum a lullaby while brushing his forehead. “Usted tranquila. Mi señora, está confundida.

“No you’re not real. Leave me! LEAVE ME!” They made consoling noises as they backed off into shadow.

“The sacrifice of this man is nearly complete. We won’t be far. We can’t wait to see you again.”

She clutched her head as she lived through a lifetime of memories with these servants, but it was different from before. He tried to counter every memory with his own, but they were the ones that now seemed intrusive. The ones that seemed fake. Why do I have all these male memories? I’m a girl, no… a woman. I must be rid of them! Adam made one last desperate push to force out the spirit intertwined with his own. Violently retching as if he could vomit her out. But slowly one by one, each of his brightest memories went out. The corridors of his mind they illuminating going dark.

Her smaller heart tapped against her rib cage. Her fingers returned to her little madam and began to stroke the insides to find just the right spot. She gasped as her dark nipples and lower lips throbbed. He didn’t have the courage of will to stop fucking himself. Ximena’s face appeared in front of him. The first time without the haze of memory. Soooo beautiful ughhhhhaaa. He grabbed and pulled his curly black hair in raw anguish. Adam slowly ceased to exist so that Ximena could live again. I… I’m Iahhhhh. 

 

 

 

 

She blinked in the post lust haze and looked curiously at her wet fingers. Then she looked around confused, touching her body, pulling at the odd clothing and smiling. Eventually, she got up and walked around the corner. She grinned at her saviours, who stood waiting to attention. The blonde woman smiled back coyly. Ximena looked her up and down. They embraced her for a hug.

“Pero, me morí.” (But, I died..)

“Y ahora vivimos” (And now we live.)

Juan said.

“Camila? Francisca? Elecciones interesantes. Por qué ustedes tardaron tanto?” (Interesting choices. Why the delay?). She said with a happy lilt.

“Perdón señora, pero hay pocas personas ingenuas hoy en diá. Todos son desconfiables.” (Sorry my lady. But the people in this time aren’t naive.) She sighed.

“No tuve elección. Esta Americana encontró mi esqueleto. Tomé el cuerpo.” (I didn’t have a choice. This American woman found my skeleton. I took the body.)

“No te preocupas Camila.” She looked at her sympathetically.

“Aun mismo, puedo oír la voz de esta mujer en la cabeza.” (Even now I can hear the voice of this woman begging in my head.) That made Ximena frown. She couldn’t hear anybody.

“Francisca? Qué guapo eres.” (Francisca. How handsome you are!”

“ Siento que ofenderá a Dios. Le digo al hombre en mi cabeza que se quede en silencio y que Dios desea esto..” (I feel this offends God. Yet I tell the man in my head he should be silent and that this is the will of God that I now own his body…) Camila grimaced and turned to Francisca.

“Hiciste el papel de un marido muy bien madre.” (You played the part of a husband really well mother.)

“Tuvimos que preparar ess cuerpo con un brebaje, mi señora. Para que la fuerza de tu espíritu y memorias pudieran transformarlo. Solo había suficiente para ti.” (We had to prepare that body with a concoction so your memories and spirit could transform it my lady. There was only enough for you.) Ximena smirked. The body of a blanco to house her mind. Muy irónico. She did feel a flicker of pity for him. Who she had been, but only a flicker.

“Vamos a utilizar lo que se queda de las pertenencias de mi personalidad anterior y tener mucho divertido. Quiero aprender más. Quiero ser parte de este mundo nuevo.” (Let’s make use of my former self and his resources. I want to learn more. I want to be part of this new world.)

“Pero Ximena..” Camila said with uncertainty.

“Preparé algo de la moda nueva. Se llama una chaqueta. “ (I’ve prepared something from the latest fashion. A jacket.) Francisca said.

Deberíamos cambiar eso peinado también. (We should probably change that hair style too) Camila said.

Ximena put on the black jacket and looked it over.

For a brief moment she thought she was someone called Adam. That she had owned something like this. The corners of her eyes twitched, but the feeling quickly subsided. She was going to move on with her new life. After all, there was no point opening up old wounds.