After The Fall

This is a little something I was playing with that was toying close to the Terraverse stories I had been bouncing around my head. this isn't like the Terra-X story I had already discussed with srb but is more like a between the gaps kind of tale that might be a kind of prequel. Anyways it was meant to be more like a one shot and not a continuing tale. Lemme know what you all think as usual. A shout out to srb wherever he may be for the inspiration for this and some other tales to come.

AFTER THE FALL

I

Martin lay there in the half dark of the morning twilight, golden orange horizontal shafts of light cut through the swirling dust in the close arid confines of the bedroom showcasing the mostly ruined furniture, the untidy bed and of course Martin. The heat was disgusting already, and it was only dawn. Martin sighed and looked down then grimaced dourly with rolling eyes. They were still there. Big as damn melons and near as firm as they practically stood up on their own volition. Martin checked between his legs once more for the umteenth million time. Still no damn cock.

Martin didn’t know what the hell had happened. It was the most bizarre, and weird thing he had ever experienced and of that he was certain. But that alone by no means was the nightmare that was his life now, at this moment. The humidity was up and along with the freakish warmth Martin had to endure the sweatiness as well. Again martin looked down at his body, its firm curves glistened in the half light, full firm breasts jutting up and gleaming with perspiration. Martin sighed, if this was the body of a woman he’d known before the world went to hell he’d have been dying to sleep with her. Oh hell, who was he fooling. Martin knew it was about the sex. Gratuitous and satisfying and he would have loved it all. And much like most guys he probably would have stuck around until it all got old on him and then moved on to something else that caught his attention. Well, ‘would have’ being the operative words now.

Martin realized he was the farthest thing from masculine now. In fact he had not been for a few years now, but sometimes he just couldn’t get the old Martin Dombrowski of Crafton Heights Pennsylvania out of his head. He always woke up hoping the nightmare would be over and he could have his old body back. Obviously, it never happened. Whatever it was the occurred back then, when the world was still a place he knew well, it wasn’t going to just go away. He wasn’t he anymore. Martin was Martina now, and it wasn’t going to change. He had learned to accept it on a certain level already. It was just some stubborn subconscious part of himself that refused to let Martin