She bit her lip with a smile. “Really?” she said. “You aren’t just saying that?”
I leaned over and kissed her, in front of everyone on that busy train. Her face turned red and she bit the corner of her bottom lip again. “You know, there’s this big music festival in Frankfurt tomorrow. Maybe you can go with me,” she said.
“I’d love to,” I said. And then we kissed again.
THE END
GOING THROUGH CHANGES
Kenny is having a bad year and he doesn’t think it can get any worse—and then his parents pass away. Suddenly, he finds himself living on the other side of the country with Fey, an aunt that he only met once when he was very little. She’s a bit of a hippy, living alone in the middle of nowhere, with no Internet or cell service.
Life isn’t much better with Aunt Fey, at least at first. But it’s only a few weeks before Kenny starts to notice strange changes to his body. His hips are widening, his skin is softening, and a pair of subtle lumps are starting to form on his chest. If he didn’t know any better, he would think that he’s going through some sort of female puberty! But even that doesn’t really explain his sudden desire to try on the cute outfits he finds around Aunt Fey’s house.
CHAPTER I
I wasn’t having my best year. In fact, I think it’s safe to say that I was having my worst year.
It was my last year of high school and it certainly started off terribly. I showed up for my first day of class and saw all of my friends for the first time since June. They were all three inches taller and probably thirty pounds heavier. They’d spent the summer in the gym packing on muscle, hoping it would help them with the ladies in their last year of school. I would have done the same, but my family dragged me across the country for a family reunion, and then my dad made me get a job flipping burgers. And unlike my friends, I didn’t get a growth spurt. It didn’t help that I was already a few inches shorter than all of the guys in my grade. Now I was shorter than most of the girls, too.
But I decided I wouldn’t let it get to me. I did my best to embrace my smallness. I was even planning on dressing up like leprechaun for St. Patrick’s Day.
My friends suddenly didn’t want to hang out with me. They all made the school’s sports teams. I tried out for a few but got cut almost immediately. So I tried to find new friends. I joined the chess club and the drama club, but even those guys didn’t want to hang out with me because I sucked at acting and I sucked at chess. So I ended up as the chess team’s referee and the drama club’s lighting guy. There were only two lights, so it was an easy gig.
My year continued to go downhill. My parents didn’t have a ton of money, so they urged me to keep working my burger-flipping job. So I would leave school as soon as the bell rang and then I would work until about eight at night. All of that money went to my parents. It wasn’t until around Christmas that I realized they were spending it all on drugs, and I only found out when the coroner told me the cause of death. “They both died of a fentanyl overdose,” he said as I sat in the hallway and cried. I had to admit: they did a pretty good job of hiding their drug addiction until they died.
I ended up moving in with one of my teachers, because none of my old friends offered to take me in, and I was too afraid to ask. I slept on a pullout couch for the next two months as my grades slipped. I was surprised to find out that the school’s teachers weren’t willing to be lenient with my grades. They still expected me to show up for all of my tests, though studying was terribly difficult when the only thing on my mind was the fact that I was technically an orphan. “If you don’t get your grades up, you’re going to have to come back next year to redo your classes,” my teacher said to me. My stomach turned. I still couldn’t believe that they weren’t cutting me a break.
So I think it’s safe to say that I was having the worst year of my life. I was excited when the calendar turned over to 2019, hoping it would be the end of my troubles. But my troubles were just getting started.
I came home from school one afternoon and saw my aunt in the kitchen with the teacher who was putting me up. She rose to her feet and smiled when she saw me. “Kenny—so nice to see you. It seems like it’s been so long.” And it had been a long time—over ten years. I couldn’t even remember her name at first. It was a few minutes before I remembered that she was Aunt Fey.
“Your Aunt Fey is going to be taking you home today. She’ll be your new legal guardian.”
“But I thought you lived way over on Vancouver Island,” I said.
“I do. That’s where we’re going,” she said with a big smile, as if that was something I was supposed to be excited about. I nearly cried in front of her, and then it occurred to me that a change of scenery might be a good thing. It’s not like I had any real friends in Toronto anyway. So I got into Aunt Fey’s car, where my suitcase was already sitting, and then we started the long eight-day drive towards the West Coast. It was a silent drive for the most part. She tried holding conversation with me at first, but then she gave up when she realized we had absolutely nothing in common. “You’ll like The Island,” she would say a few times a day, as if she was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince me.
We slept in motels along the way. They were the cheapest motels Aunt Fey could find, all infested with bikers, truckers, and bugs. Aunt Fey would wear the same clothes day after day, as if she only brought the one outfit. And that’s about all I knew about her: that she was a hippy back in the day. It’s the only thing my mom ever told me about Aunt Fey. “She ran away from home when I was ten,” my mom told me. “To go live on a commune. She was just sixteen. It was ten years before we saw her again. She came to live with us after the cops raided her commune. Apparently it was actually a cult or something. Fey’s always been a bit weird like that though.”
We were on the ferry, leaving Vancouver, when I finally asked Aunt Fey. “Is it true that you were in a cult?” I was worried that I was being taken to that same cult now.
She laughed. “That depends on what you call a cult,” she said. And I took that to mean ‘yes’. “You’re going to like The Island,” she said again, as if I would believe her this time. I already hated the damp air. My clothes felt wet, even though I hadn’t gone near water. My back was terribly sore from sleeping on crappy motel beds. I hoped that my bed in her place would be nicer than the motel beds.
“So where do you even live on The Island? Nanaimo? Victoria?”
“Somewhere in the middle,” she said with a little smile. And it was true. We had to drive for another two hours after the ferry to get to her little house on the west coast of the island. It was a very small house, with just two small bedrooms and a living room with a small kitchenette. One side of her property was heavily wooded and the other side was a surprisingly pretty ocean view. “This is it—your new home,” she said. My room was small—hardly big enough to fit the twin sized bed that was stuffed into it. I wondered how she got that bed through the shockingly narrow doorway.
Every single floorboard in the house creaked. There was nowhere in the house where a draught couldn’t be felt. I pulled out my phone and saw that I had no reception. “Is there a landline?” I asked.
“No landline. The nearest reception is half an hour away. There’s no Internet, but with all this nature, you don’t need the Internet.”
I had one hobby: playing video games. The only real friends I had were people I’d met playing League of Legends. I’d never met them in person, but we would talk on Discord, sometimes for hours, even when we weren’t playing the game. Now, I had no way of communicating with them. “Where will I go to school?”
“It’s a three kilometre hike to the highway. There’s a bus that will pick you up, and then it’s an hour ride to school. Don’t worry—I got all of that figured out for you.”
My stomach turned. “A three kilometre hike and then an hour bus ride? I have to do that twice a day? Are you nuts?”
“The fresh air will be good for you,” she s
aid with her warm smile, which was starting to feel a bit condescending.
But I was still hopeful that life would turn around for me in British Columbia. I went to my first day of school excited to meet the people who would be my new friends. But none of the guys wanted to hang out with me. It was too late into the year—pointless to take on a new friend, with just five months left before graduation.
I was shocked when a few girls approached me and asked if I wanted to hang out with them. I was willing to take anything I could get, so I spent most of lunchtime with them, until one of the girls said, “It’s so cool that we have a gay guy in our school now.” My heart fluttered down into my stomach the moment I realized she was talking about me. Apparently the rumour had already been spread around the whole school—in just a matter of hours. Everyone thought that I was gay.
“I’m not gay,” I said. “I like girls. I’ll even prove it right now if you want to go find an empty classroom with me.”
She gasped with disgust, and then I was asked to leave the table. I’m not sure why I said it. Maybe I was just finally fed up with being pushed around. I was tired of having nowhere to fit in, and ready to just accept that I would probably spent the rest of the school year alone.
The bullying continued over the next couple of days. Someone spray-painted ‘FAGGOT’ on my locker, and then a few kids jumped me as I was leaving school. They gave me a black eye. So the next day, I decided not to go to school. I hiked out to the bus stop and then I stood and watched as the bus went by. Then I started walking in the other direction, towards the small town where I hoped to get a bit of Internet, so I could get onto Discord and connect with my gamer friends.
I wasn’t just skipping the day, I was dropping out. I was done with trying. Maybe I could do online courses in a few years, if there was even a course I wanted to take in college. But until my body started developing like the other guys’, I wasn’t going anywhere near school. And I was starting to think that was never going to happen. The body I had was the body that I would be stuck with forever.
At least that’s what I thought…
CHAPTER II
Aunt Fey didn’t work. She was living her life comfortably, though I couldn’t figure out how. “What did you used to do for work?” I asked her one afternoon.
“I’ve never had a conventional job in my life,” she said as if it was something she was proud of.
“So you were a hooker,” I said.
She laughed. “No. I’ve never done that.”
“Then how did you buy this place?”
“It wasn’t expensive. Fifteen years ago, when I bought it, it was only about sixty grand. I had the mortgage paid off in about six years. Now I just pay the taxes.”
“So how do you get money for the taxes? And what about food and your heating bill? And the gas you put into your car. You must have spent four hundred bucks on gas going to Ontario and back to get me.”
“I do a bit of consulting from time to time,” she said. And it was obvious she wasn’t going to tell me how she made a living, so I could only assume that she was secretly an occasional prostitute. She was a pretty lady, in her fifties but still fit and tight, with long blonde hair and big eyes. She had a sort of erotic confidence in her demeanour—the same kind of confidence I imagined a high-class escort would have. And she was always going into town for a few hours, coming home with no groceries.
I didn’t bother asking what kind of consulting she was doing, because I knew I wouldn’t believe her answer.
“So how is school going?” she asked. I was surprised that she hadn’t heard that I hadn’t been showing up. Then again, she didn’t have a phone, so I suppose the school had no way of contacting her. All she could do was take my word when I said, “It’s going fine.”
“Have you met any girls you like?” she asked. I thought it was a strange and forward follow up question.
“BC girls really aren’t my type,” I said.
She laughed. “BC girls are the best girls in the world. You should give them a try.”
“They’re kind of mean,” I said. “I didn’t come here to find a girlfriend. I just want to finish school so I can go back to Toronto.”
“Just give it time. You’ll warm up to things here.” And she had a big smirk on her face, as if she just told a joke that flew right over my head. “I have to run into town. Do you need anything while I’m out?”
“No,” I said. I was happy that she was going, so that I could be alone for a while. I hadn’t masturbated in over a week, which I’m pretty sure was a world record as far as eighteen-year-old boys goes. I waited until I couldn’t hear the rumble of her engine before I rushed over to the bathroom and got undressed. I started rubbing my cock, getting it hard, but something was missing. I was used to jerking off to porn. Had I known that Aunt Fey didn’t have Internet, I would have made a point of downloading some porn movies to my computer—so I didn’t have anything. But I couldn’t help but wonder if she had something.
She was a free-spirited chick. Surely there was something in that house that could make my masturbation session a little bit better. I snuck into her room and started exploring her drawers. I wasn’t surprised when I found a whole drawer filled with lacy lingerie. I dug through the lingerie, hoping to find anything—a magazine, a DVD, or even just a pack of naughty playing cards. But there was nothing. So I kept searching.
In her nightstand, I found a long purple dildo. I shuddered at the sight of it, knowing that it had been in my aunt’s snatch. I carefully nudged it aside so I could look deeper in the drawer. Underneath I found more lingerie and a few more little sex toys. I was becoming increasingly positive that my aunt was a prostitute. Hell, she was probably out with a client now.
I found what I was looking for: a book of sex poses. The same couple acted out all of the poses on each page. The resolution was good and the woman in the pictures was sexy. And the guy had a big, thick cock, which was a nice touch. It was the ‘tit job’ page that ended up doing the trick for me. I aimed my cock to the side as I quickly jerked myself, so that I would get any of my goo on the pages. It only took about forty seconds to get off, and a minute later, I had the book back in its place in that nightstand. I felt a bit better, but I was still dreading the next five months that I was stuck living with my aunt.
It was only an hour later when I decided to jerk off again. I had nothing else to do, even though it was a nice day out. I couldn’t figure out what Aunt Fey was expecting me to do when she said, “Go out and enjoy nature.” What was there to enjoy? You’ve climbed one tree; you’ve climbed them all. I had to hike twice a day every weekday, so I wasn’t about to leave the house to go for a pointless hike, and I wasn’t big into swimming—and even if I was, I had to walk an hour to get to the nearest swimming-safe area, seeing as the waves were too aggressive near Aunt Fey’s waterfront house. So there was really only one thing to do to pass the time: jerk off.
Though I did spend some time searching through the house, digging through Aunt Fey’s closet, hoping to find something to pass the time. I was even willing to play a board game by myself like a complete lunatic—but she didn’t even have any board games. She just had clothes—lots and lots of clothes, and lots and lots of makeup and lotions and creams.
So what did she do to pass the time, aside from seeing ‘consulting’ clients from time to time? There weren’t even books around to read. The only books in the house were my school textbooks, which I was almost bored enough to read.
Aunt Fey still wasn’t home when the sun went down that evening. My boredom was beginning to reach new levels. It was Sunday, which meant I had to get up early in the morning so that I could pretend to go to school. But a part of me was legitimately considering going to school, just so that I would have something to do. I wanted the homework to pass the time. Maybe I could just avoid interacting with everyone except for my teachers. I could slip in late and leave early. Or I could just bum around town, trying to avoid being seen by Aunt Fey. I
couldn’t decide which option sounded less boring.
CHAPTER III
There was one positive about living with Aunt Fey: she was always up early, and she always made me breakfast. And it wasn’t like the breakfast that my mom would make me, before she started using drugs. Aunt Fey didn’t just whip up a bowl of stale cereal. She made eggs and bacon and toast. Sometimes she made waffles or pancakes or French toast. Sometimes there was fruit salad, and there was always fresh coffee and biscuits.
I always looked forward to her coffee. It was the best coffee I’d ever had in my life. It wasn’t too strong and it was rich in flavour—never burnt, never cold. Sometimes I would have three or four cups before heading off to school—or heading off to pretend school. That Monday morning I took a thermos with me as I made my long hike towards the small town.
There was a little café in town that had a working Internet connection. It wasn’t a great connection—not good enough to play League of Legends, but it was good enough that I could text chat with my friends on Discord. Though all of my Discord friends were in school, so all I could do was send them messages and then I would have to wait until the next day before I got a reply, so our conversations were slow. They all missed me in the game. “We don’t win as much without you,” one of my friends said. It was sad to hear, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it.
I was sitting in that café when a guy walked in and ordered a coffee at the counter. I found myself staring at him curiously. He was a few years older than me, with an even stubble beard on his cheeks and chin. As he reached to grab his black coffee, I noticed his arms were thick and muscular. I could even see the veins in his arms.
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