Taking on a New Life
Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)
Commissioned by Kittenrose232
Knight sighed, looking at his computer screen and not really seeing it. “Busy work” was what they called it, data input and admin and stuff that was supposed to get him grounded in the company. It was a good job, albeit a desk job after his army contract had finished, dumping him off in the land of the in-between, not knowing what he could do next or even what he was supposed to do. Anything was a good thing when it came to starting off on the right foot and he leaned back, the wheeled desk chair squeaking under the frame of his body. He was lucky that they hadn’t made him change his hairstyle, his red and black locks tied back neatly and professionally so that it was pulled back from his face at least for the workplace.
It was not a bad day, not even to him who was still restless after being in motion for so long, having spent so very much time doing and moving, always moving. There had been little rest in the army and he hastened to do something more meaningful with his days, drumming his fingers on the desk. But the very reason that it was not a bad day to Knight was the big, fat bonus cheque that landed on his desk.
Others went out to celebrate but he was little more of a solitary soul after spending so much time around other people, leading him to instead head out on his own rather than to join others for drinks. In the end, his self-isolation would lead to him integrating better with them, strangely enough, when they’d know him with another face.
He had always been fascinated by antique shops and the cloying musk of it was familiar, tainted with a faint lick of incense. The shelves were tall and closed in around him but that was okay as Knight had never been one to worry too much about confined spaces, regardless of how his time in the army had gone. Vases were of little interest to him but statues reminded him of foreign cultures and he sought out what could have reminded him of his time aboard, his time in the services. A chessboard carved like tiny dragons almost had his fingers twitching for his wallet but there was so much more there too that he had to move on, eyes grazing the collection of fine gemstones, cut and polished and gleaming in a scarf that had been beaded with them. That could have been suited for a lady...but not for him. No, what caught his attention there, even as he lazily perused the shelves, was the impressive collection of vintage swords.
He almost drooled, letting the shop keeper display them for him, allowing him to hold them, to feel the weight of them. They wouldn’t be useful in battle but he’d had enough of that, at least for the time being, even though he wouldn’t have known just what to do with the particular katana that he ended up with. It was, of course, not a traditional weapon in the army when machinery was the order of the day there but that was what made it special to him, marked with images of sirens looping into one another, splashed through purple and green and blue. In the distance of the painted scene on his chosen katana resided the sunset over the water, a pang in his heart reminding him of better times.
Maybe that was why he bought it. Maybe he thought it meant something more. Maybe he just liked the pictures. Either way, it would only be to Knight’s detriment in the end as he slumbered peacefully, the katana already proudly displayed on the wall of his bedroom in pride of place.
It was not to stay there, however, not peacefully, as it glowed faintly, the human in the room entirely unaware of what was happening, the properties that the katana held. Awakening from her slumber, a magical mishap that she would rather not speak of, the siren with the fish-tail and the front half of a pony, shivered in the picture. No longer static, she bared her fangs and wisped her way out of the sword, flicking her tail, yellow-gold scales gleaming where they melded softly into the coat and hide of a horse. Her head was more reptilian in shape, however, a fan-like fin running down the back of her neck, although she used her ability there to swim through the air rather than through water.
Floating, she flicked her tail, slithering through the air to hover over Knight, his hair strewn out over the pillow, an arm flung back, woefully unsuspecting of how his life was about to change.
“Yes...” The spirit hissed, weaving back and forth lightly, her eyes intent. “You... You will be my vessel for this human world!”
It was the warmth that she sought, after all, the freedom of having a body again, slipping into him, her translucent spirit shivering as it moulded to the shape of a human. The warmth would feed her, give her energy, but only time would tell just how long it would take for her newest vessel to take shape in a world that she was only just beginning to understand.
Until then...she would lie in wait to see just how Knight changed.
On waking that morning, Knight would not have noticed anything different about himself, even though there was. He was a little shorter and his work trousers a little looser, though he put that down to his diet (which he didn’t stick to all the time) having a greater effect than before and strode out the door with a strut and a spring in his step. It was going to be a great day indeed if he was looking and feeling better! So great a day, in fact, that it even made him want to sing.
Knight shook his head, laughing at himself as the sun shone down, his walk to the office lighter than it had ever been. He wanted to sing – how weird was that? His feet were light, shoes a little too big, sliding about on his feet as he smiled at everyone, although there was a glint in his eye that he had never had before.
It happened slowly, his fingers not quite sitting right on the computer mouse anymore, his work slower and “clunkier”. He frowned, fiddling with it. Had it been swapped for another one accidentally? Had a co-worker played a prank on him? Whether in the office or the army, that most certainly was not unheard of.
Knight shook himself. No. He must have been imagining things, he was sure of it.
But he wasn’t. He most certainly, definitely, wasn’t.
His co-workers looked at him oddly, whispers following him behind his back, though he could not understand one bit why they seemed to think that he was wearing make-up. There was nothing wrong with his face and, frankly, it was so rude of them that it did not even bear addressing, though he fidgeted and tried to keep his fingers still while they eyed him up and down, eyes wandering even while they should have been fixed on his face, concentrating on what he was saying.
Coughing lightly into his fist, Knight tried to push past it.
“Did you do something different to your hair?”
The comment caught him off-guard and he reflexively ran his fingers through it.
“What do you mean? What’s different?”
His co-worker’s eyes slid away. She hadn’t meant to hurt him or embarrass him, no... No, not by any means. That wasn’t her aim and she was a nice enough lady but not one that Knight, clearly, was destined to know well.
They parted ways, both busy about their work, things to do, busy things, yes. There was always something to do in the office and, if there wasn’t, their managers would find something for them to do anyway. Knight paused in the bathroom, looking at how his shirt hung on him. He’d thought he’d lost weight but his chest seemed a little bigger, even then, which would have suggested that he’d gained weight instead. But then why was his waist narrower and smaller, his stomach pulled in as if he was actively trying to suck it in before the mirror before a hot date?
“Hmmm...”
It didn’t make any sense but Knight was too busy to focus on it too much, even as his army-born strength deserted him, making it difficult to even grip what he had done before. He’d kept up with his workouts in the gym since leaving, physical fitness drilled into him, but it had become more and more difficult to bench press, his upper body strength leaving him first. It was embarrassing and it was that more than anything else that made him call halt to his workouts, lost as to the meaning of what on earth it could be that was affecting him all of a sudden. Was he sick?
It was much worse than that, however, as his attitude shifted too, becoming a little snarkier and snappier, even when he was getting coffee in the morning.
“Could you hurry up?” He sniped, rocking back on his heels, a hand on his hips. “This is taking forever...”
Of course, that was not really Knight talking there but someone else, the someone else that was slowly taking over his mind, transforming him into a form and a body that would better suit her. The coffee vendor at his cart, however, did not know that and merely frowned at him, offering him his triple-pump caramel macchiato with a squirt of spray cream with nothing of a smile on his lips.
Things were different, very much so, and not even Knight could fail to notice that things, frankly, were happening when his hair started falling out, red and black wisps coming out in clumps. The stranger thing, however, was, as he stood before the mirror, running a brush through it, the black turning to orange, growing rapidly. He would not have said it was ginger, not even as he, trembling, took it delicately between the tips of his fingers, treating it with more care than he even would have his own hair. For that couldn’t be his hair, not truly, not when he had never, not even once, borne that shade for himself...
“I just need some time off...for health reasons.”
He was fortunate that his employer did not press the issue further in that case, but employment and health law did not require him to, as difficult as it could make things for them. He offered to be available for distance work from home during the “course of treatment”, for he surely was ill and that would come to light when he finally figured out what on earth was actually wrong with him.
The changes in Knight’s body were easier and easier to spot as he found himself taking on a different body shape, his waist tucking in over the coming weeks, becoming softer and more feminine even as his hips widened. He made a face as he bumped something off the coffee table at home in his apartment, not knowing how big his hips were as yet. The doctor hadn’t been able to help him with that at all, although they had done some blood tests, the results of which he was still waiting on to come back.
It was wrong, all wrong, and he tried to do a little exercise at home, ignoring how his chest wobbled, a strange swathe of flesh that didn’t seem right there, especially in comparison to the rest of his body. Where the rest of him was lighter and softer, his thighs stronger than before even with an added rise of comfortable flesh there, a little more padding that still looked good on him.
Knight didn’t want to admit how much he liked it but there was still a need and a want there to flaunt what he had, hips cockily jutting out even when he was strutting around his apartment. With the dispersal of his hair came the rush of orange, striking and glowing, even with a yellow streak cut through the centre. It was more obvious in another shade but his hair was much bushier and curlier too, boasting volume that he had never had before, even if the changing reflection with a lightly defined face with high cheekbones and a narrow chin no longer looked at him in the bathroom mirror.
But it was strange, very strange, and he sat on his bed with the katana held between two hands. Holding it there, he stared at it for a very long time – time was all he had while the medical investigations were underway – though it could not be denied that the one little image of the golden-yellow siren with a gleam in her eyes was gone. If he had not adored it so much on first purchasing it, he would have thought that he was losing his mind but he knew it had been there and the whispering hiss of something that could have been serpentine but was so much more teased up through him like the raising of a snake’s head.
She was not a snake though. No... Much worse than that.
“It’s you...isn’t it?”
His skin prickled as if he was being answered, even though his lips parted silently. It was not him but a her, something rising inside him, tightening and pulling around his heart as if the muscle surrounding it was actively contracting, reducing his ability to breathe. He didn’t have to know what was happening to know that it was happening, his body slowly but surely shifting, though it was, thankfully, not the body of the siren from the sword that had held so much interest for him before and, now, so much potential.
She was the one who had turned him into something else, was in the process of changing him to suit her needs. And as nervous as it made him, Knight was quite sure too that he would not be a man for much longer, not with the fresh understanding in his heart as to what his chest was becoming. Breasts, of course, could be present on males too, but they were not as large and as full as his were becoming, the mammary glands of a woman in her twenties. The nipples too grew more pronounced, although he did not dare do anything sexual with them, regardless of how sensitive they were, perking up, as he squirmed and wriggled in bed, working out a new comfortable position in which to sleep.
Knight’s eyes too, well... They were no longer softly shaded pools that could draw in an onlooker. At least, that was a joke a friend had made about him many years back and the thought had always made him smile at the worst of times, therefore it had stuck. No, they were lighter, a softer shade, but they slowly turned to a type of amber that changed shade depending on just how the light hit them. The golden-brown glowed when he was not expecting it and he even spent more time in front of the mirror than usual admiring them, for it was, in a way, the only way that he could gain the full extent of his transformation in one sweeping glance. The more intimate details of how his body changed, however, were better tamed with his fingers, feeling out new curves, even around his hips.
Knight chuckled to himself, lying back in his bed, oddly at peace with it all. It was not as if he was sick, after all, and that was more of a concern to him after coming back from war-torn countries, fighting for his country. If he was well and healthy, he would be fine, and he took a kind of morbid fascination in his widening hips, a line of bone showing through as the fat on his body too redistributed itself. It was strange to see his body halfway between male and, well, something else, the tucked in part of his waist forming him into something softer and gentler, though there was still deadliness to the siren inhabiting his body.
There were other parts of his body too that changed, his legs redistributing the muscle more readily and easily, perhaps more so once his understanding of it changed. He didn’t have bulging, masculine calves anymore (the desk job, admittedly, had taken those down just a little) but his thighs were thicker with a little more fat. He was surprised how they seemed stronger and even tested that at home with strange and difficult squat repetitions (ski squats, in particular, after single-leg squats were trying to the extreme) that he could not have done to that extent before. It was impressive and bolstered him on, even as other parts of his body, right at the top of his legs, forced him to pay attention.
He didn’t go to the doctors when that part of him started to change, although he did have further tests throughout those weeks. None of those doctors, thankfully, asked him to pull his pants down – why would they? His cheeks burned with the humiliation of it, the strangeness of it, and he couldn’t resist the urge to look from time to time, even if it was a change that deemed to make itself more obvious when he was going about his daily business. The act of urination, well... That most certainly became different and more difficult, no longer able to stand as that part of him disappeared entirely, melding back into his body as if it had never been. He couldn’t urinate in public toilets though, not even when he went to see the doctor, breath catching, cheeks flushing, not sure which bathroom he was supposed to use. He didn’t look either male or female as yet but he was soon to become she.
Knight’s genitalia were not to be the subject of inspection until later on, but at least his extended leave of absence from work was accepted. All the while, he became more used to walking as a woman, a female, standing tall and yet moving fluidly, as if every part of his body was light and soft. There was no heaviness to be had about his tread in his new body and he knew still that he could not stop it, the tint of his skin growing more golden, though he would not have considered it as yellow. It was a gentle glow and he smiled, running his fingers over it, feeling just how his skin was softer there as if he spent time conditioning and moisturising it, though he could not remember a time when he had ever taken part in such endeavours.
Maybe it would be nice... He sat there, gently brushing out his hair, long and curling, down to the middle of his back. It was lusciously thick and matched the rest of his body by that time, looking quite in place, swept back from his face, eyes thick with dark lashes that would have drawn the attention of anyone. But just whose attention was he trying to draw?
Ah, that was no matter... And it was a good thing that he’d been able to go along with things too, allowing the changes to happen without fighting. It was easier, more comfortable, and explaining things to his workplace in a way that he was familiar with, that they could understand, allowed him to continue on with his work when he was ready to return. They only wished that he had told them in advance but there was nothing that Knight could have done on that count and it was just something that they were going to have to live with.
He was lucky, yes... Lucky, even though he didn’t know what was happening, what was going to happen next. He tried on ladies shoes, dainty heels – well, they felt dainty in comparison to his usual trainers, casual shoes, and boots. Even his feet shrank, which was the most surprising thing of all for him, how little they could be, more in proportion to a body that was light enough to be discreet. It had been difficult to be discreet and subtle in any way as a man and he could honestly say that stealth had never been his strong point.
Moisturising his legs was a new experience, the coarser, darker hair that had been present there growing lighter over time. It was a subtle process and just when he thought that the transformation was complete, something else caught his attention, something that he had not noticed before. The dark bags under his eyes, from so many nights of failed sleep, tightened up lightly, giving him a fresher appearance than ever. His broken toe straightened out where it had healed crookedly. He gained an aptitude for swimming, although he went at off-peak times, finding the ladies swimming costumes shockingly revealing in comparison to the trunks that he would usually have worn. He could go into shops to find underwear and not have sales assistants look at him weird.
That was a new one for him. Underwear was, of course, a necessity and his chest required more support when he was out in public, even if he preferred slouchy tops for personal comfort when he was at home. It was good to relax but his chest needed support too when out and about, the added weight of it tiring on back muscles that had not yet learned to brace and support, not even that little bit. He refused to get fitted even though the attendants could not understand why, scurrying away between the racks as the many colours, shapes and styles overwhelmed him. Maybe a simple cut? Yes, that would have to do, at least to start with. Clothes shopping was ridiculously complicated as a female too, a woman, a lady. Which term suited him better? Maybe Knight would choose one in time.
Choosing what he needed for outerwear too was a process of trial and error though, blushing furiously as cocky as the swell of attitude was inside him, the siren trying to come out. It was the bold attitude of her that was the slowest to manifest for what he was yet to learn about transformation was that it was not simply physical but there was a mental and emotional side too that would take many, many months to manifest.
Wearing a bra, however, well... Well, he had to face the facts sooner or later, even as he showered, teaching himself to wash and blow-dry much longer hair than he was used to. Who knew that being female could be so much work? Even that needed extra lotions and potions just to keep it smooth and silky, for getting it all frizzed up on a massive bad hair day was just not for him. It was hard to ignore his changing body, alternating between fascination and worried, even though the concern never lasted for all that long. The siren made sure of that, smoothing out any rough edges, making it easier, simpler, just to go along with it. There was no worry, no stress... But he had some notions to face up to, bit by bit, day by day, especially as he readied himself to return to the workforce and earn his way.
Taking a deep breath, Knight paused before the front door. Neighbours thought he had a girlfriend. They didn’t know that the woman was him. But they wouldn’t, for the simple fact that he...was no longer a he. Perhaps Knight had never truly been a he and belonged to the being of a she but that thought in itself was too confusing even to her mind.
She shivered. It was one of the first times that she thought of herself as female and, well, the thought stuck. How about that?
Living as a female, however, as she could not be considered as male in any other sense of the term even in her own mind, was more difficult than she may have realised. She fidgeted in line at the bank, waiting to hand over the details, including the signed details from the doctor, thinking that everyone knew, that everyone was looking at her. She’d even donned a skirt, thinking that it would look a little more natural on her longer, shapelier legs, though she wanted to tug it down, to cover more of her legs than it should have done naturally.
This is silly...
But it wasn’t and she had to get used to it, wearing purple tights underneath that, at least, made her skin tone set off a little better. It seemed to work for her and she shrugged into the jacket, standing a little more like a woman even though she was not so sure she had left all the mannerisms of being male behind as yet. She shivered. Did she even want to?
It was a strange question to ask but simply having the siren change her felt quite as if she was finally settling into the skin and the body that she’d always been meant to have. It was comfortable and it was warm and it made her feel safe. The siren within her did not always make herself known but she had to trust that she knew best, leading her along the right path. At the very least, it was a more interesting path than the one that she had walked so far in life and she would soon be able to reintroduce herself to her colleagues as...well...
Who was she, exactly? “Knight” no longer seemed like the right name, not for her. She sorted her documents, notes of gender reassignment, her sex confirmed as female by those in a medical position. The process she went through was paved by those who wanted their sex to be changed, medically or simply as gender reassignment, though there were so many different ways to look at that that she didn’t want to dig into it too much personally for fear of being disrespectful. The fact of the matter was that she was female, however, and had to deal with that one way or another.
Going to the bathroom, well... That was an experience. As it had been during the process of her transformation, it had not quite been as she had expected, the weird process of sitting, trying to wriggle to get comfortable. It didn’t feel right but she’d have to get used to it somehow, her breasts getting in the way at other times as she reached for things, more apt to bump things off shelves in her apartment than she ever had been before, despite her clumsiness. Thankfully, they were not as large as those that some women boasted and, for that at least, she could be grateful.
Any easing of her condition, of course, was something to be grateful for.
Sitting like a woman too... She grimaced, trying to drink coffee in a cafe, shifting her weight constantly. How did that even work? No one there looked twice at her – she was just another woman to them, a lady in her twenties that wouldn’t warrant a second look unless they were admiring how pretty she was – and she fussed, crossing one leg over the other and back again. Nothing was comfortable but she couldn’t relax her legs out either as that, for sure, was not ladylike at all. And, besides, her skirt stopped her from doing that, even if she felt comfortable enough in the warmer weather to go bare-legged.
Leaving her legs bare-legged in itself was a revelation in comfort. Usually, she wouldn’t have been able to wear shorts to go to a cafe like that, at least not in the middle of the city, as it just wouldn’t have felt right to sit down in them. But a skirt, yes... She smiled to herself. That was a good thing, a good thing to be comfortable. Maybe it meant that she could even get used to the changes that the siren had forced upon her, at least in some sort of time. It was not all that bad if she could find some comfort even then.
“Excuse me, miss?”
The employee leaned forward over the counter, beckoning her up, one of the most important pieces of paperwork of her day waiting before her. The employee pushed up her glasses and frowned down at her, although she had too much confidence by then to worry about something like that, looking up at her with defiance in her eyes. She could think what she liked.
“And what name are we putting down to finalise this?” The employee asked, her name badge unreadable. “I need it confirmed verbally also.”
She blinked. She couldn’t even remember what she’d written. It was important though, important that she remember. Fumbling for words, she sought to buy herself time.
“My name?”
She paused, a little flustered, brushing her hair back behind her ears. It was cutely endearing and the assistant smiled without thinking, her stern demeanour softened by her charm.
“I... My name... My name... It’s...”
And then she knew it, holding her head high, fluttering her eyelashes, a hand on her hip. It popped out cockily and she knew that her clothing, however casual, accentuated her form perfectly and prettily, showing him how her charm could drew him in. Her eyes gleamed and his jaw dropped and she rocked back, only hiding her smirk so that it would not disrupt the effect of what she was going for too much.
“My name is Adagio.”
And, so, it was done.
Her life would never be the same again.