BCJ, Chapter 19: Senses

My ears have always been sensitive. However, once I gained a second pair of them, the tiny little things that really fucking annoyed me before, had become seriously unbearable. For example, my father was listening to a radio talk-show upstairs and while I couldn’t understand the exact words that were spoken, I could clearly hear the horrible static-like noises, along with mumbling and high-pitched squeaking.

Having two heads didn’t make my patience any greater though. So I ended up turning the space heater back on, but with only the fan running. The noise wasn’t as calming or soothing as my large fan, but it was plenty loud enough to give me some mental stability.

With that white noise clearing my heads, I switched places with Ana and started editing. However, instead of letting her lazily lounge around, I took that baggy t-shirt off and placed it on the metal chair. Then I ran my fingers across ‘my’ abdominal muscles and chest, lightly caressing my ‘breasts’. Honestly though, they were mostly just pecks with a bit of fat on them.

To me, they didn’t particularly look good or bad. Tits are mostly for aesthetic purposes anyway. It’s not like I was trying to seduce some breast-obsessed dude, though I did think about some lesbian massage videos…  For good measure, I used my original hands to rub Ana’s body as well.

As I touched my lower abdominal region, there was no sense of ticklishness, that I would have experienced if someone else was touching me. It was basically the same as just fondling myself. Still, I needed to keep from going too far or I would have gotten hard and wet again.

After letting out two sighs simultaneously, I got back to work. Michael continued editing, while Ana began doing incline pushups. Both were tasks that required very little ‘attention’, under normal circumstances. But since it was my first time exercising as Ana, I was obviously a bit more interested in that process.

“Wow… This is a lot easier without gimpy hands.” I snickered, as I easily did about thirty swift pushups. At that point, I felt a bit more strain. Ana wasn’t as bulky as Michael, but she was actually stronger if you considered the weight difference. 

That wasn’t strange though. I remember back in High School, when I could bench-press 225 pounds, while I only weighed around 140. Technically I was considered weaker later on, when I could bench 250 and weighed 180.

Of course my hands were probably the main difference. Without nearly as much pressure or pain from doing simple exercises, obviously I could do a lot more for a lot longer. At around a hundred and fifty, Ana finally stopped. I could feel the blood pumping in my head, and it felt like I was on fire.

That was pretty normal for me though. Even doing small amounts of physical exertion caused my body temperature to sky-rocket. In that state, I was basically the opposite of aroused. As if there was no blood left to deal with my dick or pussy. My main couldn’t focus on anything either. Maybe I overexerted myself?

Anyway, I didn’t need to wash my hands off, since I wiped down the stupid handles earlier. But I still rinsed them with the sink water for a few seconds, just for peace of mind. Plus my hands had gotten a little sweaty.

It was at that moment that I realized a serious problem. I was standing in the kitchen shirtless, with nothing but boxers on. Which would have been fine, but technically, my tiny tits were still breasts. And to my parents that were also standing in the kitchen, I wasn’t their kid.

“Um, hi?” I laughed nervously, then went back downstair, closing the door behind me. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I could hear my mother cackling hysterically, while my father was chuckling.

It was obviously embarrassing, but honestly, it wasn’t that bad. After all, it was only nipples. Speaking of which, my nipples are relatively small. And more importantly, circular in shape and flat. They’re some of the most generic looking nipples I’ve ever seen, but maybe that’s because they’re mine. Compared to my pale as fuck skin, they were pretty dark. The usual little bumps surrounding the tiny nub in the middle. Enough about my titties!

When I was walking across the basement, I got this feeling that I had… So many times before. Maybe it was from writing too many stories or reading them, but I felt full of energy. And there was a sensation, as if wings would suddenly sprout from my back if I bent forward and moved my shoulders inward.

Unfortunately, no, I didn’t sporadically become an angel or demon. That pent-up energy did dissipate a bit, especially when I looked over at the ridiculous topless muscle-girl making ridiculous poses.

“Heh-heh…” After laughing softly as Michael, I got back to work with editing. While simultaneously having Ana sit down on the metal chair and put her shirt back on.

With both my minds focusing wholly on editing, I was finished the fourth chapter before I realized it. Of course, it ain’t like I did it in an instant. Probably took about half an hour. Both my bladders were once again, ready to burst. So it was time once again, to make a bathroom run with both my bodies.

Nothing particularly interesting happened though. ‘Michael’ had to wipe his calf off with an alcohol tissue thing, since a single droplet of some sort of liquid splashed on it. Didn’t know whether it was piss or toilet water, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

As I was leaving the downstairs bathroom, I saw my father sitting down on the chair closest to the washing machine and microwave. He was leaning over and petting the black-furred cat who was purring happily on the ground. As Midnight saw me, he suddenly meowed loudly and dashed under the kitchen table. I didn’t think it was particularly strange though, since he was always somewhat afraid of me.

If you really think about it, a black cat is already an ominous sign. When it’s fucking terrified of you, and you seemingly haven’t done anything to harm it, maybe it’s an omen?

“Okay~…” I snickered, walking over to the sink and washing my hands without soap. Well, if I washed my hands with soap every single time I needed to rinse them off, then my skin would have dried up completely. Besides that, I literally used antibacterial wipes in order to clean myself off a few moments earlier, so it would have been redundant. Why the fuck am I even bothering to rationalize this shit?!

“I saw your girlfriend walking around half-naked earlier…” My father suddenly said, so I turned around and laughed at him. He explained, “I wasn’t wearing my glasses and I thought she was you. Don’t take this the wrong way, but she’s really butch. Don’t get your feelings hurt if she ends up leaving you, after she doesn’t need a place to stay anymore.”

At that moment, Ana came into the room and opened the gate. She looked at us for a moment, then rushed over to the sink, complaining “I touched my fucking elbow on the door-frame on the way out of the bathroom…” Then she started vigorously washing that spot off with soap in the sink.

After she went downstairs, my father said “Holy shit, she’s like an exact replica of you! Michael, forget what I told you… If you lose this girl, you might never find someone who understands you again.”

“Thanks… I think.” I sighed, “You don’t need to worry about us breaking up. Anyway, I’m going back downstairs, love you…”

“Are you going to sleep already?” He asked me, it was something he said a lot to be honest.

“Maybe in a couple hours?” I snickered, heading downstairs and closing the door behind me.

Then my smiled vanished, because Ana just saw something really concerning.

1 thought on “BCJ, Chapter 19: Senses

  1. Pingback: Bloodline Cultivation Journal’s Table of Contents | Mike777ac

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