Saturday, May 27, 2017

A Child's Metamorphosis: Epilogue

Finally, the end of Heather's journey.  OR IS IT?????


...Yeah, it is.  Here's the text again in case you can't read it:



As I watch my 5 year-old granddaughter play in the yard with her favorite necklace around her neck, I stop to reminisce of the years that have gone by since Heather became a butterfly.

I wore my new charm on a necklace every day, Heather happily bouncing along with me, dangling above my chest.  The soul transference was a resounding success, allowing us to bury her old, battered butterfly body in the sand near the milkweed plant she had laid her eggs on.  After Dad left for his new job far away, Mom and I watched Heather's offspring hatch, then eventually become beautiful monarchs in their own right.  As her mind had reverted back to childhood, Heather watched from my neckline in awe, not having any realization that they were technically her children.

Heather would be there for every moment of my life, hanging happily from her chain as I went back to school, found a boyfriend, graduated from high school and college, broke up with my boyfriend, found a new one, and eventually got married.

Once I turned 30, I had my first child.  We named her Heather Jr., and she grew to love butterflies just as much as Heather had in her childhood.  At the mental age of 22 at this point, Heather broadcast a feeling of longing whenever I played with my daughter.  4 years later, I asked her if she wanted to be given to Heather Jr.  The feeling of relief said more than words ever could.  I passed down the necklace that was my little sister to my first child that day.  The unbridled joy I felt from Heather as she hung from the tiny neck of her niece was the best thing I could ever have hoped for.  As Heather Jr. grew up, I had one more child, a son I named Heath in honor of the little brother Heather sometimes took the form of so many years ago.

My daughter learned the truth about her aunt who was hanging from her neck when she turned 8.  I told her that she should only talk to Heather when she wasn't around other people, but she occasionally slipped up.  Those listening just brushed it off as an imaginative little girl talking to her favorite necklace, so our secret was safe.

As a young woman, Heather Jr. married the love of her life.  She asked me permission to tell her husband about Heather, which I granted.  Soon after, she had a daughter named Vanessa, after the common name of her own favorite butterfly species.  Vanessa was brought up to also learn about Heather, whose mind had aged to well over 40 by this point, myself in my 50's.  Heather once again requested to be given to the little girl, who never went anywhere without her great-aunt hanging from her neck, dangling around her belly button.

This brought me back to the present.  Heather had flown off of Vanessa's neck, falling in the grass nearby.  At the mental age of 55, she knew she would be found quickly, but Vanessa was crying.  I hopped up as quickly as my 63-year-old form could, found Heather in the grass, and gave her back to Vanessa.  She stopped crying, immediately happy again as she placed the living necklace around her neck again, this time tucking it under her shirt.  Hugging me around the neck, she ran back out into the yard to pretend to be a butterfly.

I basked in nostalgia, having witnessed this behavior in two other girls before this.  Heather Jr. quietly walked out, having returned home from work, watching her daughter playing the same game she had over twenty years ago, wearing the same necklace she had grown up with.  Heather herself bounced happily between Vanessa's stomach and pink shirt, not caring in the slightest she could no longer see anything around her.  She was comfortable in her tiny metal body, with a piece of her former self tucked safely behind her clasp and window, showing her former wing to the world.

Heather was content in bringing happiness to those around her, and wouldn't trade the experience for anything in the world.  She was there to comfort me when I gave birth to Heather Jr.  She was present when Heather Jr. did the same for Vanessa.  Whenever the child wearing her was injured, she would mentally soothe them into happiness again.  She would be given to Vanessa's daughter years later, then to her daughter, until finally, once she mentally aged to 120, her consciousness would finally fade, bringing her to whatever comes after death.

I can't wait to see my little sister again.



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A Child's Metamorphosis Pt. 6

Part 6 of Heather's story.  A surprise Epilogue is coming soon.

Here's the text again in case you can't read it:


The grueling wait was over.  4 weeks after I released Heather into the wild, her signal on the tracker stopped moving after it had moved erratically for a few days.  We traced her flight pattern, seeing many more butterfly bushes along the way, until we came to a mostly familiar scene.

There was a beach Heather always loved playing at as a human, because there was a small gathering of milkweed plants nearby that many monarchs visited frequently.  The tracker picked up residual signals coming from one plant, and we found something interesting.

There were around a dozen tiny eggs gathered on one of the leaves that had transformed material sprinkled throughout, which meant they had come from Heather.  As her mind had undoubtedly matured to near-adulthood by this time, Mom and I realized she had indeed mated with another monarch, continuing her new lineage to the next generation.  We knew then that Heather had to be nearby.  We combed the shoreline, shouting her name, hoping she would respond.  Then I saw the saddest thing imaginable.

Heather's tiny, battered body was laying motionless on the sand.  She must have been caught in a storm and couldn't get to safety soon enough, because her wings were tattered, littered with holes, and one of her antennae had broken off.  All I felt coming from her lifeless body was a vague feeling...

...of contentment.  She had done her duty, accomplished her purpose in the world.  She had pollinated flowers she fed from, and reproduced to assure the survival of her new species.  Her body died while protecting her eggs, and she knew they were safe.  She thought the last thing she would ever see would be her favorite place in the world.  However, there was also a lingering sadness.  She would never again see the ones who cared for her in her short childhood, or play in the sand at the beach, or prance around the yard in her favorite costume.

She didn't know we would come for her.  Once she realized we were present, her mood lifted.  Her body may have been dead, but her mind lived on, and we were going to be in her life again.

I gently slipped a sheet of paper underneath her, then carefully lifted her broken body off the ground.  Making sure she wouldn't fall off, I carried her to the car.  From there, Mom brought us home.

Once we were there, I laid the paper down onto the table, and thought about the sight in front of me.  There, resting on top of a sheet of printer paper, was not just a dead butterfly.  It was my little sister, going along for the ride with whatever happened to her unliving form, and she was still happy.  I brought her to her old bedroom, sliding her gently onto her desk.  This is where she stayed for 4 days, sheltered from the elements inside her home.

4 days later is when Dad showed up.  He had learned what happened to Heather days after the machine malfunctioned, and had been working on a secret project ever since.  Although Mom made it clear she was furious with him for indirectly causing this, he assured her that this project would make caring for Heather significantly easier.  We all entered her old room, where Heather still rested on her desk.  He started to explain what he had made.

A soul container.  He had created a way to transfer her consciousness into something else, with the condition that it could only ever be used once.  It had to contain material from her current body, and it had to be an inanimate object, as he found it didn't work either way on living material.  Finally, Dad unveiled the container itself.

A small charm that could have something flat be placed inside it, with a glass window on the front, meant to be attached to a necklace or bracelet.  If we took a small piece of Heather's most complete wing, we could make the device work.  We showed everything to Heather, waiting for the emotional response that would decide her fate.

From the tiny body on the little pink desk, we felt...happiness.  She would agree to have a piece of her wing cut off, placed inside the charm, and become the charm itself.  Instead of slowly disintegrating in the wilderness, she would become nearly immune to time itself.  So, we commenced the operation that would do a few things.

First, Heather's mind would be transferred into its new vessel.  Second, her newfound maturity would be stripped away, as her mind no longer needed to be adult.  This was an unavoidable side-effect of the process that would end up making her more interested in things around her, so it turned out for the better in the long run anyway.  Third, her mind would begin to age normally, until she fades from existence around a century from now, saving her from a torturous and boring eternity.

We all knew this was the best way for her to continue existing.  Heather was happy, and that's all we cared about.


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Friday, May 26, 2017

A Child's Metamorphosis Pt. 5

As this caption is HUGE, here's the text again in case you can't actually read it:


It took a few days for Heather to feel anything resembling happiness anytime she wasn't basking in the sunlight, and she only fed from the garden for 5 minutes at a time.  She finally perked up 5 days later, signalling she had come to terms with her new reality.  Mom and I noticed something was still wrong.  We noticed her looking outside most of the time, just waiting for the sunlight to come through the window and into her cage.  Then the day came when we found out what the problem was.

It was 7 days after she emerged from her chrysalis that we noticed Heather looking outside with the sun beating down on her.  At this point, this was highly unusual behavior, not having her wings spread in the sunlight.  Mom and I looked outside, and noticed something different about the garden.  We finally came to an unbelievably difficult conclusion.

There was a small gathering of monarchs fluttering around the butterfly garden, pollinating and otherwise doing their natural job.  Heather was watching them.  I finally bent down to her level and got her attention.  Heather twitched her wings to let me know she was listening.

"You're watching them, aren't you?" I asked.  Heather flapped her wings twice.  Yes.  That was the mode of communication we had come up with so she could answer basic questions.  "They're free out there, in the wild."  She lowered her wings, exhibiting a feeling of sadness.  I waited for a few seconds, then...

"You want to join them," I continued.  "Don't you?"  Two slow flaps.  Yes.  Mom bent down with me.

"You know what that means, right, Heather?" she asked slowly.  Two flaps.  "You'll be away from us.  You won't be taken care of.  You might never see us again.  You could be eaten.  You could be caught.  You could end up drowning in the rain.  You'll might end up laying eggs.  You'll be alone when you..."  Every situation was met with two flaps.

"We'll be really sad here without you," I offered.  Suddenly, Heather hesitated, only half lowering her wings.  Then...two flaps, with an accompanying emotion.  Sorrow.

Mom and I looked at each other, then asked Heather to wait a few minuted while we talked it over.  Two flaps again.  We went into another room so we could come to a decision about Heather's future.

As it stood, Heather wasn't happy staying with us anymore.  She wanted to live life as her body was meant to, not cooped up in a cage inside a house, being constantly watched over by two beings hundreds of times larger than her.  She wanted to be free.  As such, Mom and I made the hardest decision we had ever made, or would ever make in our lives.

We entered the living room again to carry out our decision.  I opened the door to Heather's cage, offering my finger for her to climb onto.  She was curious about what was happening, so she hesitated.  "It's OK, Heather," I offered.  Slowly, she crawled onto my outstretched finger.  I carefully lifted her out of the cage, turning toward the door into the garden.  Mom opened the door for us to go outside.  We had decided that I would be the one to release my little sister.

I stepped into the garden, Heather looking around at the monarchs around us.  I smiled at her, raising my hand into the air.  Then she took off flying.

But not for long.  She landed first on Mom's shoulder, lingering for a few seconds, broadcasting her mixture of excitement and deep sorrow.  Then she flew over to mew, landing playfully on the tip of my nose.  As I went cross-eyed looking at her, I felt something small brush lightly against my skin as Heather touched me with the end of her elegant proboscis.  The closest thing to a kiss goodbye that she could manage.  With that, she flew off again.

This time, it would be for good.  She joined the monarchs in their activity, quickly becoming lost in the bunch.  There would be no way to tell her apart from the others, and that's exactly how she wanted it.  She was happy now, but still sad.

Mom and I watched her mingle with her favorite animal, then looked on in tears as they all flew off, searching for the next patch of friendly flowers.  Within seconds, every last butterfly was gone.  Including Heather.

For the next few weeks, Mom and I never left the house, never even going outside.  For every storm, we worried for Heather's safety.  Every day, we watched out the window, wishing she would return to us.  We tracked her every movement with a device Dad had invented long ago that was effectively a GPS for transformed matter.  We always knew where she was, but we wanted it to be Heather's decision whether or not she came back.  And we both knew the truth.

Heather wouldn't choose to come back.  She was smart enough to stay safe during storms, and no predator would dare to try to eat her due to her body's natural coloring signalling, "Get away!  I taste horrible!"

We missed her greatly, but we only cared for Heather's happiness.  And she was happy now, free in the wild.  Where she belonged.  With her own kind, the majestic monarch butterfly, she would help to pollinate plants around the area, and eventually contribute her genes through her own offspring as she rapidly matured mentally.  She had chosen this life, and she would live it to the fullest right up to the very end.


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Part 6, the finale, should be out tomorrow  I'll have the entire day to write.

Just as a test, can anyone actually leave comments here?  I'd very much like to know!  I think I set it where anyone can comment, but I also don't know what it meant by 'anyone'.

Thursday, May 25, 2017

A Child's Metamorphosis Pt. 4

Part 4 of a little girl's journey through the life cycle of her favorite animal, only to find out she's never going back.
Part 5 should be out tomorrow, with the finale on Saturday.  That said, I'm horrible at following schedules, so no promises!

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

A Child's Metamorphosis Pt. 3

Part 3 of the tale of a tragic mishap.  Part 4 should be out either tomorrow or Thursday.

You can find this on DeviantArt as well.

Monday, May 22, 2017

A Child's Metamorphosis Pt. 2

Part 2 of an ongoing 6-part series.  A majority of this consists of backstory.
I no longer try to reach the TF fetish community with these captions, but instead simply try to tell a story through captions.

I plan to keep releasing this every day this week, but I'm not making any promises.  If I feel something needs more time to be happy with it, I'm going to take that extra time.

Sunday, May 21, 2017

A Child's Metamorphosis Pt. 1



This can also be found on DeviantArt under the same title.  Part 1 of a six-part series.  The series is not meant to be classified as erotica for any reason.