Idol Hands (FMG, mini-gts, futanari transformation)
Story by arcomniflash
Evening all,
So I've started writing another story. It might not be everyone's cup of tea, and as such I've included the appropriate tags in the topic for this post. There might be a while in between chapters, and the chapters are sort of long. Editing, suggestions would be appreciated of course. If you like it, tell me so.
I'll include two versions of each chapter, one as a downloadable doc file, and the other in the post itself as spoiler text. Here you go:
Chapter 1
Helen White brushed the dust off of one of the boxes in her parents attic, causing a thick plume of it to billow into the air. She coughed and spluttered as she breathed it in, covering her mouth and silently cursing her brother, who really should have been doing this instead of playing football.
She had always been a quiet, bookish girl. Despite being quite pretty, her lack of a figure and introverted personality won her few friends throughout her school years, and even now, in her senior year, there were only one or two people who she would hang out with on a regular basis. By comparison, her brother Brett was the golden child of the family. His grades weren't all that great, but he made up for it with his skill at football, his outgoing nature and excellent physique. He was stronger than most boys, worked out regularly and never seemed to put on much weight.
With a sigh, Helen brushed aside her dark hair. She had always felt that there was some degree of favoritism in her family. Her father had allowed Brett to head off to football practice, delegating the mammoth job of cleaning the attic to her, while her mother had quietly acquiesced to this as she always did. To be fair, the place hadn't been cleaning in years and the myriad of boxes needed to be sorted, but that part required a strong back that Helen didn't possess.
Attempting to wrap her arms around one of the boxes, she strained to lift it away from it's perch atop another, larger box. In the end it was too heavy and she stumbled, spilling its contents onto the floor. Tutting quietly, Helen knelt down to pick the stuff back up. It was amazing that her family had the money to house all this crap - her home was two stories tall but the attic was still comparatively large. Apparently it had been a hand me down from her grandparents, since she was pretty certain that her own couldn't have afforded it. Her father worked in real estate and her mother had a job at a local law firm as a secretary. Still, the fact that the mortgage was already paid gave the two of them a lot of excess cash.
The stuff on the floor looked old, antiques perhaps. Weird knickknacks that her grandfather had brought in from abroad when he had gone on his travels, long before she was born. These things were older than she was, likely way older. She started lifting them back into the box, grumbling slightly as she did so. Soon everything was back in place with the exception of a small, African shield. A pygmy shield, perhaps? She didn't know, world history wasn't her strong point. It looked like a toy.
With a small smile at the strangeness of the thing, Helen lifted it off the ground and held it aloft, regarding it for a moment before placing it back in the box. Thinking that was everything, she stepped away and almost tripped over a small, wooden chest that the shield had been covering. She caught herself while the chest slid across the floor and almost fell down the stairs. Rushing over to catch it while it teetering on the edge of the top step, she managed to grab it just before it went over the edge. If the contents had been fragile....it didn't bear thinking about.
She carried it back over to the cardboard box it came from, turning it over in her hands as she went. It had been locked once, but time and the force of impact from her foot had broken the small padlock. Glancing in one direction and then the other Helen turned the box to face her. What was inside that had been locked up all this time. She couldn't resist at least a little peek.
Cautiously, she opened the lid, bracing herself in case it was a withered tarantula or something like that. What she saw inside made her blush. It was a small figurine, an idol perhaps, perfectly cast in what appeared to be gold. The figure was kneeling down in a double bicep pose, its arms and legs thick with detailed muscle. The face and large breasts would have marked it as feminine, were it not for the large penis that sat in between its legs.
Where had her grandfather gotten this from? Regardless of the garish appearance of the woman...man...person the figure depicted, the material it was made from was obviously quite valuable. Helen quirked an eyebrow at it and reached in to take it out of the box - maybe she could sell it online and make some money, it wasn't as if anyone was using this stuff anyway...
As he finger brushed against the metal, the figurine discharged what felt like a strong static shock, causing her to drop both it and the chest.
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