A Love So Bold - Chapter 6 - 7

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LoveSoBold_0.jpgA Love So Bold
by Anon Allsop

The story continues - Hope you enjoy!

-Six-

As Ezrah dreamt, far off he could hear the sound of a train whistle. The closer it came to him, the louder it became, sounding much like he was laying right there on the tracks. The shrill train whistle screaming like a banshee woke him and caused the youth to bolt upright, his now unfettered feminine breasts seemed to have a life of their own. As they settled he looked down, a great wet spot saturated the front of his chest, right at their very summit.

“Oh shit!” he cursed as he sat up and felt the front. There was no mistaking that by becoming Hanna, he was now lactating. He looked over at the baby fussing and crying, and tried desperately to ignore her, but it was no use. It was the baby crying that made him dream of the train, and it seemed the more she cried, the wetter Ezra's shirt became. As he sat up, his eyes came into contact with the body of the woman, although she was an exact duplicate of what he had once looked like… only wearing the bloodied dress.

Ezrah stood and took stock in his own changes. He could no longer hold claim to the male vernacular, no - he was now a she. He had somehow transformed into Hannah! His shadow, now growing longer in the afternoon sun, was unmistakably feminine, and even he could see that. From head to foot, he would never pass as a boy again.

Ezrah glared at the baby crying, and stepped over the corpse with the arrow shaft and cautiously grasped it and with a slow steady pull, attempted to retrieve it from the boy. It was all he could do with his diminished strength. All of a sudden, the shaft broke and he fell backwards to the ground hard. As a male, he often found that his strength nearly matched that of his father, but now... he was a pitifully weak female.

It was quite shocking to see his former body, lying in death and wearing the trappings of the young mother. He was completely perplexed on how any of this was possible. He could think of nothing that would allow this to happen in either nature or science, and yet it had... he was a direct result of it.

Again the young baby began to fuss; again he continued to ignore it. He leaned over; the long red tresses seemed to have grown even more and slid off his narrow shoulder and hung before his face. In one sweeping motion, he flipped it behind his neck. He imagined that if he would have been watching from a distance, the movement would have been decidedly feminine. He paused and placed his tiny hands against his temples, “Just how far will this transformation take me?” He spoke aloud, but the more he thought about the possible answer, the more it scared the hell out of him!

He leaned across the body and tried to move the arm of the boy, but it was evident that rigor mortis had already set in. He stood and brushed the dirt from his knees, and the movement again set his unwanted breasts in motion. He stood and walked to the water hole, completely in a funk on what his next step would be…or should be.

He sat down on a large rock, facing his former self and the tiny baby as she fussed and cried. "How is this even possible? How can I get back to my old self?" he asked himself. His shirt grew more and more uncomfortable with an ever-expanding area of wetness. He looked down, and sadly shook his head, again sending the luxurious red tresses swinging.

His eyes returned to the corpse, the ashen skin reflecting the death state it was in. He could not fathom how strange it was to see the 'dead' Ezrah lying so near, wearing the dress the woman had died in. He frowned and looked down imagining the emptiness of his own crotch. He knew without a doubt that there was nothing between his legs now... although that wasn't entirely true, he now possessed the female equivalent of what he once had claimed.

He anguished over what he had to do, but it was needed. Slowly he stood and returned to the side of the corpse, bent down and gently picked up a rock. Slowly and methodically, he began to cover the body, and as he did, he bawled like the woman he had suddenly become.

As he finished, he stood, his shirt was saturated from chest to waist. His new feminine breasts ached painfully, and try as he might he could not ignore them any longer. He unbuttoned his shirt and took it to the water.

The huge breasts of Hannah’s seemed to defy gravity, standing straight out painfully. Ezrah winced as he brushed his engorged breast when he removed his shirt. He knew what was needed but he would be damned if he would stoop to such a low state, baby or no baby. He knelt at the side of the water and slowly washed the milk from his shirt, continually casting hateful glances at the orbs that adorned his slender chest.

To him, they were huge! Giant feminine globes that had no business on his chest! As he squeezed the water out of the shirt, he frowned as each breast seemed to conspire to get in his way. Each was painfully bouncing against the other with every simple movement. As he again dipped the shirt and began ringing it out, tiny droplets of milk leaked out from each nipple and fell into the water.

"NO, DAMN IT!" he screamed. "I won't do it!"

Yet the pain and discomfort only continued to worsen. He could ignore the screaming child behind him, and he could even ignore the way each breast swung and bounced with movement, but he could not ignore the pain as it was nearly bringing tears to his eyes.

He sat back on his haunches in defeat, crying from the ache that he was feeling, his hands sadly attempting to both cover and conceal them in embarrassment. He looked down at the large protuberances that extended outward from his chest, their blue veins clearly visible to even his own eyes. And somewhere within that globe, the little ducts that created the milk were working overtime, conspiring to make Ezrah's life miserable.

He looked at Emma in defeat, then slowly raised himself up and laid his shirt on a boulder to dry. To him, walking the few steps toward the baby was much like walking toward the gallows. He knew that if he broke down and performed this necessary function to ease his own discomfort, he would be stuck doing it until he was able to figure out how to change back, if he even could. Or worse yet, until she could leave Emma her with her father

He sat down beside the pile of rocks, the shade once again stretching out beyond the little water-hole. He frowned as he picked up the crying Emma; almost as soon as he had she calmed down and turned her tiny face toward the leaking teat he offered, it was as though the infant could smell the milk. Her tiny mouth began making the motion of sucking before she even closed upon the teat. Once she had a firm grasp, Emma latched on and began her rhythmic sucking much to Ezrah's consternation.

He winced as her little mouth began moving in earnest, her tiny tongue pressing against the teat forcing the milk into her mouth. The pain he endured was almost as unbearable as the fullness he had felt. He bit his lip as she continued on and on, so hungry had she been. He tried to occupy his mind, watching birds soaring high overhead, a lizard scurrying across the ground... yet, strangely his gaze kept coming back to the child at his... no, nursing at her breast.

She realized that as she looked now, even in the old boy clothes, she could never pass as a male. Yet it was too hard to think of herself as anything other than Ezrah. She sighed deeply as she continued to watch Emma nurse, the slight movement of her temples and jaw the only portion of her that moved. Her tiny nose so close to the warm skin of the exposed breast.

Looking down at the top of her head, the slightly reddish tint to her blonde hair, she realized that without her in this current form, Emma would most likely die. Forced to continue wiping the exposed nipple of the breast opposite to what the child was currently nursing with a slender finger, she noticed that the little necklace she had found was gone.

Her eyes darted toward the huge pile of rock that the corpse lay under, somewhere under all that weight probably lay her necklace. Frowning and realizing that there was no way he was about to remove all of those stones to locate the lost item, a cheap trinket that probably wasn’t worth more than a silver dollar.

"I guess it wasn't meant to be, was it, Emma," she quipped, his voice now much higher of a timbre and soft like Hanna’s had been. She moved the child to the other breast and wiped the one Emma had been using, all the while wondering if this is what life had become for her. “I’m nothing more than a milk cow for you, isn’t that right, Emma,” she complained to the infant at her breast in a sing-song voice.

She needed to make some decisions now, decisions that could prove to shape the remainder of his life. ‘His?’ he thought. Stifling a laugh she glanced down at the two unfettered globes she now possessed. "I can't claim to be a male anymore - that's pretty obvious."

It irked her how her voice now sounded, almost mocking her in its femininity, softly sounding like the woman she had become. Again she looked down upon the infant nursing at her breast, what would she do now that they were alone? She had promised to Hannah that she would try to find Gideon, but that was before... this.

And what of Emma, she thought to herself, should she raise the infant as her own in the meantime? She frowned, as she watched the little one nurse, “Anyone who sees us will be certain that you’re mine.”

She shook her head and sadly looked toward the heavens; the early evening sky was washed with hues of pink and yellow. A cool breeze blew over her teat; it caused her to look down. Emma had dropped off to sleep; her hold on the nipple had become lost.

Using her slender finger, she wiped the little drop of milk from Emma's chin. She raised the baby up to her bare shoulder and began to softly pat her tiny back. She felt lost, having no clue on how to be a parent, let alone a mother seemed unfathomable to her. What she needed to know wasn’t taught in schools, so she would have to learn on the fly. Normally a woman would have a lifetime to prepare, where she only had minutes! Hopefully it would be as his mother had once said, “Anything that doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.”

-Seven-

Placing the baby on the soft grass, she stood and touched the shirt she had worn as Ezrah, trying to see if it had finally dried. Gathering it up she quickly threw it over her shoulders, as a boy she would have preferred to go buck naked... now that she actually thought about it, there was a pang of embarrassment of seeing herself with no covering.

The sleeves were slightly long, but buttoning them fixed this slight problem. The shirt was big in the shoulders, and as she buttoned it up, horribly stretched over her new breasts. She looked down at the open gaps between the puckered buttons, sighing.

She hefted the canteen, pulled the cork and took a drink. While it was nearly full and moderately refreshing, it was not cool in the least. Pouring it on the grass, she refilled it with the cool water from the water-hole, and then re-corked it.

Bending over and low, with her hands in the water, she realized that she needed to pee badly. She stood and leaned the canteen against a rock and turned toward the brush to relieve herself.

Quickly undoing the buttons that held together the fly, she reached in to retrieve her penis. The shock of finding nothing in contact with his hand made him momentarily panic. Then as her new reality set in, it came as no real surprise. He groused to himself as he was forced to completely remove his pants and urinate as would any other female. Without a normal woman's years of practice, the entire necessary chore was well beyond her comprehension.

She placed her feet far away and very wide apart, then slowly leaned her shapely bottom against a large boulder. The surface was quite rough against her soft feminine skin. It was an entirely different set of muscles to control; eventually she knew that she succeeded as her urine splattered against the rock and the backs of her legs.

With a groan she looked down at the ground, sighing in defeat at her hopeless predicament. Tearing at a handful of grasses she wiped the unfamiliar area and attempted to clean her legs where she splattered them. She pushed her large breasts aside and stared at the junction of her legs, afraid to touch it for fear of something else nearly as terrible happening. Casting the grass aside she slowly pulled up her pants and refastened them. All the while wondering how a woman could put up living like this... and now she would be stuck as one for the remainder of her life unless by some miracle she could figure out what had caused the unwelcome transformation.

A stirring to her left startled her. She turned her head quickly, her long wavy red hair flipping out from the motion. It had been the infant moving, yet Emma was soundly sleeping in the grass. The new Hannah walked over to Blackie, she moved him closer to the saddle that Ezrah had removed earlier. Soothingly speaking to the huge horse now made even more imposing because of her diminished size as a female.

Blackie kept sidling away from the unfamiliar woman, yet her persistence paid off and she eventually got the blanket on him. She turned and lifted up the saddle, and stumbled due to its greater weight compared to her weaker muscles. For nearly fifteen minutes she wrestled with the saddle and horse until she was finally able to place it on its back.

Gently massaging the feeling back into her slender arms, she decided that they could not remain here for much longer; the water was a Godsend, but what meager food she had was almost gone. Hanging the long strap of the canteen on the saddle horn, she stood back looking at the huge horse, and then glancing toward the tiny baby... somehow she had to get both Emma and herself up upon that saddle.

Walking Blackie to a large rock she held him there as she bent down to scoop up the infant. It was a precarious situation in her weakened state trying to mount the horse with one arm, and maintain her grip on little Emma, yet she managed.

Settling in the saddle she inwardly thought of how high she now felt, not to mention just how wide the saddle had become since her transformation. It wasn't uncomfortable, just very wide. Placing a slender arm around the baby, she held the reins in her opposite hand. With one last look back at the grave that marked Hanna... no in truth it was Ezrah laying under those rocks... in a dress. They began their journey; the unlikely pair began riding, as the first twinkling stars were visible in the night sky.

To be continued...
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Comments

So now it really begins.

Ezra/Hannah has accepted the fact that she needs to feed the baby even if that isn't all altruistic. As things are going I suspect that nursing Emma will stop being just a way to relieve the pain in her breasts if she doesn't. Now she needs to loosen up and find clothes that fit her better.

Maggie

He was & she now is a practical farm raised person

Hanna "mark II" as it were will do what she must to honor the dying birthmother's wishes.

The birth mother admitted she was not the right woman for her husband, their children and for the pioneer life. But the new Hanna does not have that baggage and mindset to hamper her.

Plus the original Hanna's wishes coincide with the former boy's need to survive.

Anon... shame on you for dribbling this out in small, tasty morsels.

-- GRIN --

I read the entire story some months back and loved the characters and their tale.

So so much more to come.

Anon has only begun to weave his spell on us readers.

John in Wauwatosa

John in Wauwatosa

This is a great story!

I am proud to be Anon Allsop’s editor for ‘A Love So Bold’. The story is tremendous! It’s by far his longest work, and I think it’s his best.

Anon said that the story wouldn’t have been half as good if I hadn’t edited it. Not true. On my own scale of 1-10, I merely raised it from 9.0 to 9.5. I’m just the editor; Anon is the creator of this great work.

I hope that the readers enjoy it as much as I have.