Readers note: Although this story is complete and stand-alone, this story follows on from the conclusion of Clothes Horse 2 (The Sequel), but two years later on. Readers are advised to read Clothes Horse 2 first, as it explains the presence of the can of spray used in this story. This can be found at:  http://www.storysite.org/a_pruewalker01.html or at http://www.storyportal.org/author.php?Author=Prudence_Walker

 

The Inheritor                        by : Prudence Walker

 

Chapter 1

Somewhere along a tree-lined road between Celoron and Jamestown there rests an unused can of Hugglebug spray, exposed to direct sunlight and sub-zero temperatures, It has lain there, undisturbed for several years. The nanites inside have undergone a number of unplanned physical and electrical changes since their original programming. Polarisation shifts and subtle molecular changes, due to extreme thermal differentials have altered the properties of the nanites, far beyond those that its producers ever expected.

Not far from where the can lay, a young man stumbles along an old railway track dressed in ragged clothing, held tight against his freezing body. He cut across the tracks, looking for some sort of shelter against the inclement weather. He then heads for the trees that line the same road where the can had lain undisturbed for so long.

In the nearby city, a girl breathes her last as two thugs toss her naked and weighted body off from the boat landing at the corner of Jones and Gifford Street and 8th into the icy waters below. Picking up her discarded clothing, some showing the fresh blood that had come from her recently inflicted wounds, they then bundled it up in a bag ready for disposal far from the murder scene. They drove rapidly toward the outskirts of town, the two killers heading in the direction of Celoron.

Drax finds some respite from the wintry winds between the trees, and he sits down thinking again of the circumstances that brought him to this sorry state. Once, some months ago, he was a healthy young man with good prospects for a job, having a knack for artistic design. His world came crashing down around him as he discovered he had only scant months to live. What began as a routine medical check-up ended up as a sentence of death, as the doctor found he had an inoperable tumour at the base of his Cerebellum that would end his life within a month or two.

Drax, (a name he had adopted from a comic book hero) was devastated by the pronouncement of his impending fate. He walked around for hours in a daze before making a profound decision to live the good life with his savings for as long as they lasted, before he got too sick to enjoy himself.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, his money ran out before the doctor’s prediction became "a" reality, and he was forced to beg and scavenge for food and shelter for the past few weeks. Wandering from place to place in the futile search for better sources of sustenance, he eventually managed to board an empty boxcar that he assumed was heading south away from the winter snows in his hometown. While sleeping, the train changing tracks had gone unnoticed, as it went from a southerly direction to an easterly one. In the comparative silence of the rail-yards, the banging of the boxcars as they were being shunted had awoken him. Startled, he then stumbled out into the night in freezing icy winds not knowing where chance had placed him.

Meanwhile, not far away, speeding along on Livingston Street, the two murderers checked for observers, before they opened the car’s window, and threw the bag containing the murdered girl's belongings out in the direction of the trees that bordered the road.

 

"Well that’s the last we’ll see of Phoebe," Tom, the larger of the thugs said.

"Yes, I’ll be glad to get out of this stinking burg," replied Dan. I still wonder why we had to kill her off though."

"Boss’s orders you know that" replied, Tom.

"Yeah! But she looked a nice kid, must have pissed the boss something awful to warrant her death." Dan said sullenly.

Just then, Drax, hearing the loud ‘thud’ of the bag landing almost on top of him where he sat against a tree, thought. ‘Wonder why someone’s throwing rubbish from a car at this time of night.’

Thinking that whatever had been tossed might come in handy as a windbreak, he started to search for it in the gloom between the trees. Luckily, a car passing threw enough light to show him the whereabouts of the bag. Bending over to grab it, the light from another car glinted off something metallic shinning in the grass.

Reaching down, he felt the outlines of a spray-can with its lid still securely fastened on top. Never one to throw something away until it was used up or broken, he took both the bag and the can back to the tree he had been using as a windbreak.

By the feel of the bag and a quick fumbled exploration inside, he knew it was some sort of clothing. Thinking that he needed to use one of his few precious matches to show just what it was he had, he got up, and started looking for a more sheltered area. Walking just off the verge so that he could duck out of sight should a vehicle start to slow, (the last thing he wanted was to be picked up as a vagrant). He spotted what looked like an old abandoned railway storage shed nearby.

Walking round it he saw the window had been broken and hanging partially open. Managing to chin himself into the room leaving the bag outside, he found that he could unlock the door so retrieving the bag, he went back inside and shut the door. Looking around the shed he saw an old kero lantern that was used in signalling, sniffing, he detected the pungent fumes of kerosene. Managing to use only one match he got the rusty lantern lit, leaving the top open, it threw strange shadows around the tiny shed. For a minute, he cupped his hands over the flame, relishing the small amount of heat to warm his near-frozen hands.

Looking down at the bag, he moved the lantern closer. Opening the bag, he found what seemed to be a complete, previously worn outfit for a young woman including handbag, shoes, and even jewellery.

‘How odd?’ He thought, but then as he held the clothing up he saw the bloodstains and surmised that something bad had happened to the young woman Going though the handbag he found credit cards and a drivers license plus the usual makeup and other female paraphernalia. Thinking of the cold outside he wondered if any of the items would fit him as added insulation as long as it was hidden under his old clothes it shouldn’t matter. From the blood, his instincts told him that Phoebe (according to the ID) was beyond caring who wore her clothes.

Normally, the thought of wearing clothing from a dead person’s body especially those of a female would have been repugnant, but this wasn’t a normal situation. It was survival, and anything that prolonged it was acceptable.

He stood there scratching at the scabs from the lice that had infested his once clean and unblemished skin. Seeing the can sitting next to the now empty bag, he lifted it up to the light to read what was left of the label. It mentioned something about uglebugs, he shook the can, and he could feel that it was full by the way the fluid inside sloshed around. Removing the top, he sprayed a little on his skin to smell it. ‘Hmmm nothing detectable, could this be a bug spray?’ he thought. Returning to the bag, he started to remove his tattered dirty clothes.

Then standing naked, his skin starting to get Goosebumps in the cold air he reached for the spray and generously sprayed himself head to toe, thinking it may get rid of the lice if he’s lucky. The spray when it hit his open sores stung a little, but it soon wore off and feeling cold, he reached for the clothing. Grabbing the woman’s panties, he quickly pulled them on, then her slip. He was careful pulling on her dress, fearing that it might split, so delicate seemed its construction. With it over his head and smoothed into place, Drax was surprised by how well it fit. Reaching for the pantyhose he started to pull them on, but paused, thinking these need extra care if he wasn’t to tear them. Easing them gently up his legs, the enveloping nylon feeling unexpectedly pleasant as the gentle compression seemed to massage his legs. He had discarded the bra as unnecessary, and put it to one side.

As he started pulling on his old clothes, the sudden odd feel of his body struck him. Nothing felt right, it was if his skin was crawling over his bones. Even his bones felt like they were altering. Getting worried that the final stages of the tumour might be affecting his mind, he sat and waited to see if the effects would pass off.

Sitting there alone in the shed, the flickering light of the lantern seemed to be causing the shadow of his body to alter; he laughed quietly to himself. ‘If my friends could see me now,’ he thought. Dressed in female clothing, filthy, with sores all over my body, my short blond hair now grown to long silky black hair…

"What?... I don’t have long black hair," he exclaimed out loud.

Putting a hand up to his head and bringing a handful round to look at it.

"What’s happening to me? Why does my voice sound different too?" Looking at his hair, he noticed his hands had shrunk and were slender and his fingers were long and elegant. ‘Elegant?’ looking more closely, he noticed that his nails, once broken and grime encrusted now sported feminine tips, nicely rounded.

‘These are a woman’s hands,’ he thought. Now seriously doubting his sanity, Drax did a quick check over the rest of his body. Starting at his head, he could tell there had been major changes in his features. Higher cheekbones, smooth soft skin where before there had been beard stubble. His lips felt fuller and his eyebrows and lashes were different too. Getting more panicky by the minute, he felt his arms losing what muscle tone they had, becoming slender and graceful

Looking down he could see and feel something different about his chest. Not only was it pushing the dress front out where it shouldn’t be, but he could feel what seemed like breasts there. Confirming his suspicions as he cupped them with his hands, he guessed they were very large. The sense of weight as they rested on his chest, pulled his thoughts over to the bra sitting nearby. ‘Yes it looks as if it should fit,’ he thought.

"What am I thinking? … Fit! … Now I know I’ve lost my mind." Suddenly the words of his old Sensei came to mind, about centering one’s self. Going into a near trance like state as he sought his Chi, Drax found himself calming then, as his feelings of panic washed away, he found himself able to think clearly again. Clinically and calmly he continued his examination of his…or, should that be: her body as logic told him/her that he/she would be fully transformed. Drax’s hands confirmed that indeed, she was now a woman. His once proud male organs were gone, replaced by the mysteries of a woman’s sex.

At about the same time Drax was discovering her new sex, in a run down house some 50 miles beyond the outskirts of Celoron a phone conversation was going on.

"Yes boss all done" Tom said, "the girl’s gone forever," he continued.

"And the evidence, the clothes and belongings? Destroyed?" came back across the line.

"Um… yes boss," Tom said nervously.

"You don’t sound so sure, I want them destroyed completely nothing to come back haunting us in the future, I need for her to just disappear without trace, you understand that?" The voice demanded.

"Yes boss" Tom replied, silently signalling to Dan.

"Remember, I want no-one to have cause to question the acquisition of her inheritance. Without her, the estate will eventually fall into my hands."

"No problems boss," Tom answered.

Hanging up the phone, he turned to Dan who was standing next to him with a questioning look in his eyes.

"What’s up Tom?" he queried.

"The damn bag is what! I knew it was stupid to just throw it out the window, we need to get our asses back there and recover it before anyone else does, and more importantly, before the boss hears about it."

With that they went and got back into the car for the race to the bag.

Realising that if… ‘She’ wanted to walk anywhere; the bra was now a necessary requirement. So pulling off the dress again Drax reached for the bra ... suddenly, a thought flashed though ‘her’ mind and instead, reached for the half full can of spray.

Turning it over carefully, as if it was a bomb, she tried again to read what was left of the label. She could see what looked like the words . . .ugglebug con-p---y . . .and what looked like directions of use, but they were too small to make out in the poor light. Vowing to make sure he/she kept the can, to find out if there was some sort of antidote to the spray. Realising that somehow the spray, impossible though it seemed, had been the agent of the changes. It had given him a body that seemed directly linked to the putting on of the girl’s clothes, had he now become the person that had worn these clothes?

The frigid air on her near naked body, (Changing to the feminine pronoun seemed a necessity). Stopped further speculation as to how it had happened and the true identity of her new body form. Pulling on the bra seemed like an exercise in gymnastics, but at last her breasts were sitting comfortably in the cups. Pulling on the dress again she noticed the fit was better. Starting to put on ‘his’ old shoes, she found the size of her new feet swam in them.

Sighing, she startled herself with the, oh so very feminine sound coming from her lips. She looked again at the shoes that had come with the clothes. They had 1 ½ inch heels and she was grateful that they weren’t any higher, slipping them on, she tried walking a few steps.

Meanwhile Tom and Dan had stepped out of the car along where they guessed they had jettisoned the bag, and were walking a few feet apart searching the undergrowth along the roadside.

 

"Too damn cold now?" grumbled Dan; "Can't we come back in the morning?"

"If you want our bodies joining the girl’s if some-one else comes across that bag, then fine, go back," Snarled Tom. "Me, I want to live a little longer, thanks."

"Okay ... I was only saying..." Dan trailed off, as he resumed searching the roadside. After having found nothing, they continued walking until Dan tripped over a root nearly falling. He cursed out loud, till Tom told him to shut up. Continuing on, they came up to the old shed where they leaned against it out off the wind were they discussed their options.

"I still say we come back in the morning," Dan said, as he stood shivering.

"Well if we don’t find that bag you threw out and the contents show up, then we are as dead as the girl, you know that don’t you?"

"Well I feel nearly frozen to death now," replied Dan, "I say we get back here at first light when we can see what we’re doing."

"It should be here, we dumped it only an hour ago. You better hope nobody found it," cursed Tom.

"At this time of night? Who’s likely to be out here now, in this freezing weather?" Dan replied, caustically.

Then before Tom could reply, Dan walked back towards the car with Tom reluctantly following.

As they walked away, inside the shed, Drax shivered in the darkness, knowing that the bag in question was sitting at her feet. Luckily, she had doused the light when she had heard someone cursing nearby. Fearing discovery, she had huddled under the window out of sight from anyone looking in. Putting two and two together she realised that the two men outside had been the killers of the girl, whose clothes, she now wore and more than likely, resembled. She waited, silently praying that they didn’t want to look inside. As she heard the men saying that they would come back in the morning, she drew a big sigh of relief.

Drax looked in the purse searching for clues about why would people need the girl dead. The ID in the purse was for a 20-yr old girl going by the name of Phoebe Wilson. As Drax suspected she now was identical to the dead girl’s body, it seemed that she might as well assume her name and identity. After all, what else could she do? Being a male on the streets was one thing, but a young girl. No, she’d have to find a way to begin again...

Wait a minute... If he was identical to the girl then might that mean the tumour was gone? This would change everything, if she were now a healthy young woman...that meant a full life as a female.

Coming to a decision, Phoebe… as she had mentally renamed herself, decided to wait till just before dawn before leaving the shed. Five hours later she picked up the rest of her belongings slipping the jewellery on her wrists and fingers and finding that the spray had duplicated the holes in her ears, put the earrings in. Slinging the bag over her shoulder and giving her old clothes one final look, she cautiously stepped outside into the pre-dawn light.

Thinking that she should get away from this spot in case the men returned earlier than expected, Phoebe started walking, finding that her old training in Tai chi was helping her balancing on these heeled shoes. The feelings generated by her new form as she walked, the swivelling of her hips and the gentle bouncing of her breasts, and even her long hair blowing in her eyes as the wind blew it around her face was decidedly erotic. Knowing that this was now her body made her feel like some sort of voyeur. Feeling sensations not meant for males to understand, it took all her control to keep calm. Feeling decidedly odd, wearing a dress, and walking in heels, Phoebe felt exposed and scared that every one could tell she wasn’t a real woman. When she was about a mile from the hut the light grew brighter as dawn started breaking and Phoebe could now see that the bloodstains on her clothing were plainly visible. Wishing she had brought her old shirt to cover them, she tried vainly to cover some with her bag.

Five hours after getting to sleep in the old abandoned house, Tom woke.

"Come on you lazy sod, wake up" shouted Tom, as he shook Dan in his bed. "We’re going to be late."

"Mflfle..whaa..oh, bu…" Dan grumbled, trying to clear his head.

"Okay, hold your horses." He said scrambling into his clothes. "What’s the time anyway?"

F**k**g 5 O’clock you moron, by the time we get there it will be light already.

"I’m coming already," Dan snarled back, running to the car while he pulled his jacket on.

While the killers had started driving back towards Celoron, Phoebe had begun walking along the road. Realising that she needed to reach the address on her new ID, to get some new clothes and to take the time to decide what she was going to do next. At that hour, there were very few cars on the road, but she kept an eye open for a possible ride. A car coming up from behind had her holding her thumb out in the universal gesture. As the car passed then slowed, stopping just ahead, she saw another vehicle going the other way with two men in it. She noticed them looking her way and hurriedly ran as fast as she could to the waiting car, wondering if their looks were just from curiosity or something more sinister. She anxiously climbed into the front passenger’s door, smiling at the woman driver, as she started moving again.

As Tom, was driving back along the road towards the lost bag they passed a female walking towards them. Something about her seemed familiar, then it struck them, it was the girl…Alive! … By the time these thoughts had gelled into actions, they were almost a mile further on. Tom slammed the car to a halt with a screech as the wheels locked up, then smoking the tires again; he spun the car and accelerated back.

"Damn! She was right there," yelled Tom, looking past the edge of the road towards the fields, looking for any possible hiding places. Slowing, they cruised slowly past where they had spotted the girl.

"Maybe we were seeing things, or maybe it was her ghost," retorted Dan, smirking a little. "I mean she was dead, there is no way she could have survived."

"I tell you, it was her. I saw the bloodstains, oh shit! Are we ever going to get it, if it’s her." Maybe she got a ride with that car that had stopped by the road. With that, they sped up trying to run down the car that, by this time had disappeared.

Phoebe looked nervously though the rear window checking on the other car as she saw the brakes lights come on, she knew with a sinking in her heart that that car meant trouble with a capital T. The woman noticed her worried glances in the rear window, looking in her mirrors, she saw a vehicle some distance away making a U-turn.

"Honey are you in trouble?" she asked, looking at her bloodstained dress.

Thinking fast, Phoebe said,

"I’ve been attacked, … I think the men in the car behind are still after me." Looking back, the woman saw that the other car had slowed, opening the distance between them. Accelerating, she managed to put more distance between them, until a bend in the road hid them from view. Still keeping her speed up, the woman asked if she was hurt, or did she want to go to the police?

 

"No, only a few superficial cuts. I just need to get home," replied Phoebe, trying to get comfortable with the unaccustomed pressure on her breasts from the seat belt.

"Oh! And just where might that be?" The woman enquired politely.

Phoebe gave her the address--6 Hillcrest Street. Celoron--which was in her purse, hoping it was still valid.

"Well that’s good, I live in Avalon Road that’s not too far from you so I can drop you off at your home. My names Rose by the way."

"Thank you so much, I’m greatly indebted to you, the names Phoebe, Phoebe Wilson."

Rose had by this time taken the first road off to the left and was going the long way to Phoebe’s address hoping to shake off any pursuit.

"Do they know your address dear? If so, I can wait till your inside and you can call the police."

"I don’t know Rose," Phoebe replied, "they may do…" She trailed off.

"Well here we are," as they drew up to a small, but pleasant looking house in cream with green trim. "Now are you sure you’re going to be okay?" asked Rose, looking concerned at the rather bedraggled girl.

"Yes thank you," replied Phoebe, giving Rose an awkward one-armed hug before getting out of the car. Then she slowly made her way to the front door of the house.

After cruising the neighbourhood for what seemed hours, Tom snarled,

"We lost them, goddamnit." Dan looked at his partner in crime and shrugged his shoulders.

"Well if you were the girl, where would you go?"

Tom thought a moment, considering, would she go to the police or to her home.

"Well, what say we cruise past her home and see what’s what, and if there’s any police we skedaddle---okay? If there’s no sign of the police, we wait and see what develops. We can always enter at night and grab her then."

To be continued…

 

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