Melody's Hate

Melody hated her mother. It was bad enough to find out that her mother was cheating, but to find herself stuck in the body of the man she was cheating with was too much. To top it all off, when the Great Shift occurred, so much of the world was in chaos, it was unsafe for her to move out! So Melody was stuck in a new body, living with a woman who had betrayed her family. It was all too much.

"Alex? I don't understand!" Melody's mother had shrieked after being confronted by her lover's body, "What's going on?"

"Who the hell is Alex?!" Melody had bellowed, her newly masculine voice echoing in her ears, "I'm Melody! And why would you cheat on dad?!"

Of course her mother hadn't understood at first. She thought it was some sort of cruel joke. Soon Melody found herself having to explain herself to the woman she hated, the woman who had taken everything Melody had been taught about family and thrown it in the garbage. After a while, she had come around. It helped that all around her, on the internet (while it was still active), on the news (before the televisions went black), people were talking about the same thing. The Great Shift.

"Melody," her mother had said softly through the closed door, "I'm so sorry."

Her apology was met with silence. Melody was not going to dignify it with a response. Laying back on her bed, still naked, she thought things through. There was no way she would be able to go back to the way things were. Her body was different, but so was her whole outlook on life. Her mother's infidelity made Melody question so much about how the world should be. It hadn't been long that she'd been in this new body, but already Melody could feel the aggression coursing through her, the competitive hunger that came with the extra dose of testosterone. Would she ever be the same again?

She'd sat up. She'd lost her virginity! To her own mother, but still, Melody was no longer a virgin! Another thing her mother had stolen from her. Melody's penis twitched at the memory. Waves of pleasure wracking her body. It had felt amazing. She wanted that again.

For three days, Melody only left her room to grab food and use the washroom. When her mother attempted to engage her, she ignored her, instead returning to her room and locking the door behind her. Partially because of the hate. Partially because every time she looked at her mother, her penis began to grow. Maybe it was this body, some sort of physical attraction built into its physiology. Maybe it was the psychological impact of the timing of the Great Shift. Whatever the case, Melody had put herself to sleep by masturbating every night since the shift, and each time her thoughts returned to the woman she hated.

She had taken to dressing in her normal clothes as best as she could. Melody was thankful that her new body, the body that had once belonged to Alex, was slim. Her panties fit snugly, which she was pleased with. Sure, she had a little bit extra baggage in the front, but that wasn't the end of the world. With no need for a support, Melody mostly skipped her bras. Every once and a while, when she needed to feel a bit extra feminine she would wear them, but not often. Her blouses were small on her new body, so she mostly just wore her t-shirts. The stretchiness of the material helped, and she told herself that with her new size they looked like crop tops. Unfortunately, all her skirts, all her jeans, were too tight. Melody had owned three pairs of sweatpants, which were all she had to wear for her bottoms.

One of the great pleasures Melody had was discovering that her mother hated seeing her lover's body dressed the way she was dressing, so Melody decided to flaunt it. Sure, she couldn't wear her dresses or skirts, but her face was fair game. After all, it was her face now, and nobody else's. If Melody wanted to wear bright pink lipstick and blue eye shadow, who could argue with her? So what if she started intensifying the effect of her eye liner? If Melody wanted to make herself look pretty, that was her prerogative.

And so it went. Melody torturing her mother with silence and femininity by day, masturbating to the memory of her mother by night. She knew that there was something seriously wrong with this, but she was stuck in an endless cycle. That was, until their family began to return home.