Chapter 17: White-Hot NeedlesThe first time I had sex I was sixteen. It wasn’t a great experienbsp; What it was, that first time, like so many other firsts in my life, was fucked up. A high school bush party, one of those big ones out in some shitty stretch of nd oskirts of town that some kid’s parents own. All the usual shit was there: bonfires, burning bright uhe crisp night sky; kegs and cases of beer; coolers overflowing with id girly drinks, and forty-ouncers of the hard stuff; and teenage hormones. Oh yeah, lots of the st thrown into the mix. The air was thick with it. All swirled up and made plicated in that pressure-ch school kind of way.

  I was the new kid in school, a bit of a bad-ass and an outsider, but I knew enough of the cool kids to get an io a thing like this. Thing is, I wasn’t there for the fun of it. I was there for Muna. Sweet Muna, with soft mocha eyes and dark skin as smooth as silk. She was dating this guy called Karl, this Aryan fucker, a right proper asshole who fancied himself a bit of a badass as well. And Muna . . . yeah, sweet Muna, she was one of the nastiest pieces of work I’ve ever met. But I had to get to know her better. A lot better.

  So I swaggered into that seething pit of teenage alliances and social dramas and walked straight up to the King of the whole shitpile. Karl didn’t much like me. I didn’t much like him either a him kly what I thought. Those other kids, they must’ve thought I was drunk out of my mind. I was cold sober. Karl k as well. It didn’t take much to goad him into a fight. The dude was tough; he knew how to fight. I was tougher; I fought harder. And afterwards I had Muna. She knew a winner when she saw one. Some girls figure it out young. God, I hated her. The sight of her made me want to puke.

  She was my first. I did it for Sakura; she needed me to get to close to this seventeen-year-old bitch, and the best way for that happen was for me to give up my virginity, apparently. She damn well knew how to get her hooks ihat Muna. She took charge and that night was awful, fug awful, and it left its indelible mark on me. Muna saw potential in me, and she wa for herself, and she set about trollihe only way I think she kneith her t.

  A t not uhe one I currently held in my hand.

  I stood in a slight state of shock, holding this disembodied pussy in my hands and feeling it slowly warm beh my toubsp; I still couldn’t talk but it didn’t make much difference; I couldn’t think of anything to say. The shower had been a quie. K had cmbered in and k before me and before I quite knew what was happening she was shaving my crotch bare.

  Then she dragged me back to the bedroom and gave me a little shove. I was sitting numbly at the edge of the bed. She was kneeliween my legs. “Do you trust me, Mr Saunders?”

  I gave a mute nod, staring bnkly at the vagina I held in my hand. I thought it was kind of cute, as far as vaginas go. It had the same rubbery feeling and slightly grey colour that the artificial breasts first had before bonding to my body. After Muna I quickly discovered that every girl’s pussy was a unique creation. I had a sinking feeling that the one in my hand was dy’s. Go figure. dy’s vagina was cute.

  “I’m sorry, David,” K said. I wondered why, turning my attention back to what she was doing. Too te I saw her smear that pu amber goo ay s, penis and ihighs.

  What the fuck was she doing? I gave a muffled cry of horror as I felt the initial tingling sink into my balls. It probably wasn’t safe for me to talk yet but I couldn’t keep a whispered “oh God please no” from esg my lips.

  K handed me a pillow. “Bite down on this,” she said, eyes filled with sympathy. I gred back at her with hatred and snatched the damn thing from her. “I fug hate you,” I hissed, before singing bato the softness of the bed. The tingling in my groin grew warm. I whimpered, unbidden tears leaping to my eyes. I shoved as much of that damn pillow as I could into my mouth until I nearly choked on it. I tried to focus on something to distract me from the ing pain, but there wasn’t time, I couldn’t trate, not with that burning in my crotd the stifli on my chest. Still, at least I knew what was ing.

  No, I didn’t. A thousand white-hot needles being slowly pushed into my motherfug gonads--that’s what it felt like. I howled into the pillow and my entire existence became white, searing pain. I writhed on the bed and bucked against the strong arms that held me down. Something popped in my side, the early injury from the attempted assassination. Tears streamed down my fad inside I silently pleaded and begged for the pain to be done, for the torture to end, for it to be over….

  And then it was, and K was dowween my legs holding something over the numb spot my groin had bee. Drained of strength, I couldn’t have forced her away even if I tried. My breath came in ragged gasps as my sweat-drenched body rapidly cooled. By the time I found the strength to sit up K had already pulled away.

  “Are you okay?” she asked in a soft voice.

  I blinked away the tears and gave a curt, angry nod.

  “I’m sorry, Mr Saunders. I had hoped that it would not be necessary. But we may not have another ce to quite so vingly throw off our pursuers. Have a look, dy.”

  I had to strain to see past those tits, but I could just make out a rounded, lightly furry mound where my boys used to be.

  Was it safe to talk yet? Somehow that seemed a minor pared to my bits down below. “K,” I asked in a weak voice, “are they. . . .”

  K hasteo vince me that everything was fine. “Your . . . equipment, is perfectly fine, Mr Saunders. They are merely hidden away behind the prosthetic.”

  They certainly didn’t feel fine. In fact, what I could feel down there felt fug weird and wrong. When those breasts first warmed to my chest I was gradually hit with the very discerting awareness of sensations ing from several inches further out from my chest than I was used to. And now . . . I had no idea what I was feeling; my mind couldn’t process it yet. I reached down with oive hand but K held me back at the wrist. “No time, dy,” she said, with a tight little smile. She pulled several articles of clothing from the suitcase.

  “Let’s get you ready for the big show.”

  ***

  For those who've been following the story for awhile now: no, you're not crazy. I've deleted most of what I previously posted here. When I first joined up with Scribblehub, I didn't know much about the site and just dumped my story here. Later, I realised it wasn't really the right way to do it. Mainly, SH seems to prefer shorter chapters of a more digestible size, say a tasty two-thousand word or five-thousand word snack. Most of my chapters were previously about 20k ih, some reag upwards of 30k. Grahose chapters were divided into shorters ses, but still--it was a lot. sequently, I've started the (somewhat tedious!) process of editing aing all of the first Book of stant in All Other Things to Scribblehub, at the blistering pace of a chapter a day. There are exactly fifty chapters, so I'll be at it for awhile!

  Of course, for those o the story - if you're enjoying it and don't want to wait, you find alternate versions of it on FM S - and also on my Patreon (patreon./fakeminsk), which hosts the most ret edits and is plete up to Book 3 - that's another couple huhousand words. There's also some lovely fanart, and a few others things I've written.