I know that some of you were only interested in a transformation story. I have to admit that, reading through the story of our transformation, it was quite interesting. I'm also aware of how puzzling it is. Most people couldn't understand how I felt. Most people didn't understand the sight of us either. It was obvious that we weren't conjoined twins. We were both beautiful women by the popular American standard, but other than our height and breasts which I had made exactly the same, we looked much too different to be twins. Yet, here we were, conjoined at the belly, forever locked together face to face. Melanie with her long, wavy, brown hair which flowed beautifully down to the lower arch of her back and her bright green eyes contrasted my medium-length, straight, red hair and blue eyes.
Melanie never thought that she was beautiful, even before the transformation, surely that was false modesty, because it was obvious to everyone else that she was a very lovely young lady. After the conjoinment of course, Melanie felt that she was positively ugly, and in that opinion, she had a lot of company. For the first time in my life, many people looked at me, at us, with stares that were something much less than admiring. Some people showed looks of disgust, some displayed stares of fear, but all displayed curiosity. I mean, I could imagine how I would stare at a real life Siamese twin, but to see two women conjoined who didn't even look alike, that was truly strange. I undoubtedly would have stared too, that is, if I wasn't one half of that strange creature.
I've already told the story for those who wanted to hear it. It doesn't end there though, most people don't seem to realize that while "Together Forever" may have been an interesting read for some, it is a life to Melanie and me. Not only that, but most people don't seem to understand the magnitude of the word "forever" in the title. As I had explained before, there was no changing what had happened to us, what I had caused to happen. I had made sure that when I joined us that our organs became so dependent upon each other, that separation through surgery was impossible without killing the both of us. Not that Melanie didn't make all possible inquiries regarding such an operation. When I had said in my previous tale that she hated the conjoinment, I was not exaggerating. She spent most of that first day pushing me, or trying to pull herself away as if she could actually rip herself away from me. She even clawed at the skin that connected our bellies. She scratched it up pretty good, even causing blood to come streaming down the connecting flesh. All her clawing didn't free her of me of course, it only served to cause both of us pain.
It wasn't just the conjoinment that she hated. I realized that well enough. She hated me. She hated me for stalking her as I had, and she hated me for joining us. After several failed attempts to rip herself away from me in those first few hours of conjoinment, her frustration grew and she hit me square across the face. It hurt me. It hurt her too of course. She looked at me after that punch across the face with painful, questioning eyes. She didn't understand, not then anyway. It soon became clear to her though that she felt what I felt, and vice versa. I felt every sensation that crossed her half of our shared body. Every brush across her feet, every brush of her hair, every touch of her back was as clear to me as it was to her. We were as one. We were one, at least as far as the body was concerned. The only things that made us two separate people was the fact that we had separate minds and separate feelings. We were two minds controlling one body joined at the belly.
Our feelings about that body were vastly different too. I loved the body. Why shouldn't I love it? I had been the one to design it after all. I had joined myself to the most beautiful woman that I knew. No sex, no marriage, no level of intimacy could compare to what we had. We were together forever. We were held in an everlasting hug, and our embrace would never falter. Our lovely breasts would always touch as well. I had made sure of that. I had, of course, made them even better during the transformation. I made both of our boobs bigger, and I added a third breast to my chest in order to match the unique and beautiful number that Melanie had. I loved the feel of having our six large breasts all squished together, feeling our sensitive tits rubbing together, feeling it from both my side and from her side of our body.
Melanie had of course hated it. She despised the conjoinment and the breasts. Her screams let everyone know it too. The police officers had covered up our half-naked bodies and escorted us to the hospital at Melanie's request. The cops had been totally frozen at first. The sight of our transformation had been quite shocking for them I'm sure. Melanie's screams had finally broken through to them though, and they took us to the hospital. I had no desire to go there. I knew it would be useless, but I didn't say anything. I knew it was something that Melanie would have to do. She would have to be satisfied that nothing could be done to change us back to the way we were. I realized this fact and followed quietly along with her to the hospital.
Actually, "quietly" isn't the right word. In fact, we were quite loud as we stumbled over each other. We tried to walk carefully, one of us walking backwards as the other walked forwards in the same direction, but we weren't exactly in sinc yet. We were both so used to walking independently that our legs and feet constantly got tangled. We kept falling roughly to the ground. We learned to walked deftly after just a few days, but those first few nights had been terrible. Melanie was angry enough already. The constant stumbling only angered her further. She slapped me several times on the way to the hospital that night. The cops grabbed her hand one time and started to mention something about how he would arrest her for battery. He discontinued his warning however when he realized that he could not arrest her without arresting the victim as well.
I suddenly thought of what a wonderful criminal team we would make. It is a fundamental principle of criminal justice that you cannot punish those without culpability. I could commit a crime, and as long as it was against the will of my other half, I could get away with it, because she wouldn't be guilty, and we couldn't be separated. I quickly washed such thoughts from my mind. The only crime I had ever committed was stalking Melanie, and now that I was part of her, there was no more need for that. I was no criminal beyond that, and besides, I think it would now be difficult to do much of anything that was against Melanie's will. Almost anything we would ever do from now on, whether it be walking, crime, or otherwise would have to be a team effort. If it was a team effort, that meant my perfect crime scenario went right out the window.
Melanie of course would tell anyone who would care to ask that I was much more of a criminal than I cared to admit. I'm sure she was of the opinion that my crimes went far beyond stalking. In her mind, I was a full-fledged rapist. She believed that I had violated her body in a sexual way. It just happened that my version of sexuality was different than most people's. I suppose there was some validity to a rape analogy. Nevertheless, I knew that she would learn to love it my violation. Well, actually, I didn't know that at all, I just hoped it. I had to have hope in that, because I couldn't bare to even think about the alternative. I loved Melanie so much. I could not accept the possibility that she could never love me. I had not wanted to violate her. It pained me deeply that she hated our new body, and it pained me even more that she hated me. Our close physical connection would result in a close emotional connection. It had to, it just had to. I'd rather die than live without her. It wasn't just her though, I needed her love too. I would wait for it. I would wait patiently.
The doctor examined us. She too was shocked at the sight of us, as were all of the nurses and all the other people who saw us as we walked clumsily in a half-naked gaunt to the doctor's office. She had never, in all her long years as a doctor, seen, or even heard of, two people, who were not twins, conjoined as we were. Plus, our large triple breasts only added to the strangeness of our new body. She consulted with several other doctors. Those doctors then contacted even more doctors and surgeons at other hospitals. They kept us in the hospital for weeks, during which several surgeons who had performed separations of conjoined babies came to visit with us. Their many tests revealed what I already knew, that our bodies now seemed to function as one, so much so that any attempt to separate us would undoubtedly kill at least one, and more probably both of us. The way in which our internal organs were connected was quite fascinating to the doctors as well. They had never seen anything quite like it. They could not explain what they saw. Hell, I had created the connections in our body, and even I could not explain the complex interplay that occurred between our torsos.
Melanie was devastated by the news that we could not be separated. I had tried to explain to her during the previous nights that we had spent together in the same hospital bed, but she had refused to listen to anything that I tried to say, only responding to my every attempt to communicate by screaming for me to shut up, even though we always were face to face with each other. I didn't press the issue. I knew that she would have to find out for herself. I spent those days in the hospital bed thinking of how much I loved her, and how much I loved being with her, connected to her always. I spent all those first days and hours of our conjoinment trying to look deeply into her beautiful eyes, as she tried desperately to look away from me. Her lips were always so close to mine. I so much wanted to kiss them, even though I knew that it was impossible. Even if Melanie would have been willing to let me kiss her, our large triple breasts took up too much space to allow my lips to touch hers. I still had the medallion, but it was just a useless piece of jewelry now. I had only one shot at transformation. That fact had been explained well when I had purchased the medallion. No magic medallion or surgery was going to reduce the size of our triple breasts enough to allow me to kiss her. Our breasts would remain as they were. I didn't really mind that much. As long as I was with her always, I could forgo the kissing.
Before and during the conjoinment, I had showed little respect for the woman I loved, but now that we were one, I thought of little else but showing her respect. I did not want to invade her space, even though it was really just her half of our body. I even tried to keep my hands to my side. Although, while she slept, I sometimes gently caressed her half of our body lovingly, but ever so lightly so as not to awaken her. I didn't want to rush her at all. She had to come to accept our body on her own. Until then, I would just have to satisfy myself with the feel of our connected flesh at our belly, and the rise and fall of her three breasts against mine as she breathed deeply, and feeling the warm air blow out of her mouth and wisp across my lips.
Everything about Melanie was beautiful. She, however, did not think the same about me. It seemed that everything I did annoyed her. The only time she spoke to me during those first few days was to yell at me. She would yell at me to stop breathing so loudly, to stop breathing on her, to stop moving around so much, or to get away from her, as if it were possible. I tried to comply to her wishes as much as I could, but it is hard for someone who is connect at the belly to keep perfectly unnoticed by the person to whom she is connected. I hated to tell her late that first night that I had to go to the bathroom. It seemed cruel to make her experience my urination when she was struggling through so much at the time. I couldn't help it though, I had to pee, and with our new body, it wasn't like I could go alone.
"Let's get up, I have to pee" I whispered to her in a voice so quiet that there was no way she could have heard it, even though our heads were less than a foot apart.
"What?" She responded in an annoyed tone.
"I have to pee, we both have to go, I'm sorry." I said again, this time a little louder.
"Yeah, I bet you're sorry." She stated sarcastically as she jerked herself up. I clumsily followed her movements, almost causing us to tumble off the hospital bed. "You're the reason we're like this, you bitch." I didn't respond to her insult. I only clumsily made my way with her in the dark toward the small bathroom. "Do you even have any idea how we are going to accomplish this once simple task." Melanie growled.
"Um.... just sit on my lap while I do it." I said in a voice that strived to sound cheerful.
"Gross!" She yelled, rolling her eyes.
"It's the only way I'm afraid." I stated, still trying to smile. She didn't respond, but made her way to the toilet with me. I tried to ease my way onto the toilet, but wound up landing on it with a thud, causing Melanie's head to smack into mine. Going to the bathroom was going to take some practice, just like walking. I was just glad that all I had to do was pee. I would have hated to make a stink so early in our connection. She would need at least a couple days before she was ready for that, and hopefully she would be the first. I had some trouble getting started. It seemed my bladder was shy with someone, even my loved one, sitting on top of my lap. I eventually got it going, after Melanie had told me a couple times to hurry the fuck up. The hardest part though was wiping the excess pee with a wad of toilet paper. I couldn't see my vagina because of our connected belly. I had to feel my way down there. It was no big deal I suppose, I would just have to get used to not being able to see my own pussy. After I finished, Melanie told me that she needed to go too. It seemed our organs were connected, but not so much so that one of us could do all the peeing. I sat on her lap as she relieved herself. It was obvious to me that Melanie found the whole process of peeing with someone on her lap to be quite disgusting. I, on the other hand, didn't really mind, except for my shy bladder of course. I assumed that my bladder would soon grow accustomed to it.
Not long after Melanie found out about the impossibility of separation, she became suicidal. I, of course, alerted the medical staff before Melanie could act upon any of her desires. She was immediately placed on suicide watch and given counseling. At first, the psychiatrist tried to counsel us both. I assured her that I felt wonderful, and that the only problem I had was that my beautiful Melanie was sad. The psychiatrist was suspicious of me at first, but soon concentrated all of her efforts on Melanie. It was difficult for me to hear Melanie tell of how miserable it was being connected to me, but I told myself to be patient, that Melanie would adjust eventually. We spent several more weeks in that hospital, and even when the psychiatrist allowed us to leave, she still wanted Melanie to come in for extensive out-patient therapy. Melanie was no longer suicidal, but she was still depressed. I tried my best to cheer her up, but she still didn't like to speak with the person who was always face to face with her. By the time we left the hospital, we were adept at walking and using the bathroom, and faced any new challenges bravely.
When we walked in tandem out of the hospital, I walked backwards, and allowed Melanie the easier task of walking forward. We were both wearing only panties, jeans, socks, shoes, and robes, being that neither one of us had any tops that would suit our new form. Melanie had several three-cupped bras already, but they were too small for either of our new and improved breasts. The robes covered our large and unique breasts, but left our connected belly exposed.
We were hounded by both the serious and the tabloid media as we left the hospital. They all crammed their way close to us. Some of the less scrupulous media people even tried pulling on our robes to expose more of our strange bodies for the many video cameras which encircled us like flies on a hot summer day. Dozens of microphones poked us in our cheeks trying to get the best positioning for any comment that we might make as hot, bright, portable lights, some attached to the cameras and some manually held, shined down blindingly upon us, as the camera people desperately tried to get the best lighting and shots of our strange body. We struggled to get past the reporters as they frantically inquired about our strange transformation, wanting to know how it happened, how we felt, what we planned to do now. Melanie covered her face with her hands, not wanting to be seen. I, however, smiled proudly. I loved the attention.
The taxi was waiting for us in front of the hospital. We managed to struggle through all the press, but got temporarily stalled for a few seconds as we found it difficult to enter the cab. We basically had to fall into it. Once I finished closing the cab door, and situated myself in the back seat, Melanie leaned over me with her knees on the seat beside me and with the tips of her toes dangling just above the cab floor. The cab driver looked at us with curiosity, a look that we would soon get to know well. He finally put the car in gear and proceeded slowly at first, allowing the reporters to clear a path, and then quickly down the road.
Melanie and I had looked at each other unknowingly for a moment after the driver asked us were we wanted to go. We were silent for a moment before Melanie finally told him her address. I didn't say a word. I knew that Melanie would be more comfortable in her own place. When we arrived at her place, we found the press already lined up on the road in front of the driveway. Neither of us had an interest in talking to them. We struggled our way through them again and, with our strange walk, made our way to the front door, locking it behind us. I headed toward the window, and Melanie headed the opposite direction toward her phone. The skin of our belly pulled tight, and we went stumbling to the floor. Our tandem walking had gotten proficient quickly, but not when we tried to go in different directions.
"I was just going to close the drapes so the press people couldn't look in on us." I explained. Melanie nodded and followed me to the window, allowing me to shut the drapes. We then made our way over to the phone and answering machine. The number display on top of the answering machine read "56."
"Jesus Christ," Melanie said. "I didn't even know the damn thing went up that high." She pressed the button next to the number display, and after a high-pitched whine, the first voice sounded in the otherwise quiet room. It was a deep, and official sounding voice. It took us a few seconds to realize that it was a media person offering us money if we would agree to an exclusive interview. The following messages were more of the same.
"Hey, we're famous." I said with a laugh. Melanie only shook her head in disgust. Melanie was about to turn off the machine when the sixth message rang out with a voice that I recognized as Melanie's mother. I recognized it because her mother had a very distinctively, husky voice, and because she had visited Melanie everyday while we were in the hospital. I had hated the family visits. I didn't matter whether it was my family or Melanie's family. I just plain hated talking to them. The rumor had spread quickly that I was somehow responsible for this conjoinment. Melanie's family therefore looked at me with only contempt, and my family looked at me with only confusion. They all wanted answers, just like all the doctors did. I didn't give them any answers, not the doctors, nor our families, and Melanie, well, she had no answers to give. All she knew was that I was responsible somehow. I would have been happy never to have never seen either my family nor hers ever again. The only person that I needed was Melanie. I knew that Melanie would never stand to be without her family. I could endure them though, so long as I had her, I could endure anything.
Melanie's mother had wanted Melanie to call her back as soon as she got home from the hospital. Melanie called back immediately. I sat on Melanie's lap, facing her, while she sat on the chair next to the phone. Melanie's parents hated me with a passion. I felt like a young punk who just eloped with the prom queen. Only thing was, the prom queen still didn't like me very much either.
After the phone conversation, we both felt the desperate need for a shower, those hospital baths just didn't make one, or perhaps two in our case, feel very clean. I could feel the reluctance on Melanie's part. She wasn't wild about sharing a shower with me. We nevertheless stood face to face in the bathroom of her house and started to undress. The jeans were always the hardest part. We always found it difficult to put on and take off pants since neither one of us could bend forward very far. We each had to lean sideways in one direction up against a wall, raise the leg on the opposite side, reach back, and pull the pants off of that leg, while still trying to keep our balance. It was a skill the we still had yet to master, but we were getting better at it.
After peeling off the last of our clothes, we side stepped into the shower, but before closing the shower door, we both took a moment to examine our reflection in the mirror opposite the shower. We both looked at our strange body, me with admiration, and her with disdain. We were two otherwise perfectly beautiful women who shared a common, extended belly, and who each had three large breasts. Melanie finally looked down sadly and closed the shower door. Melanie turned the nozzle and placed her hand under the running water, trying to find the perfect temperature before turning on the shower faucet. When she found the perfect level of warm water, she turned on the shower. It cascaded down upon us, cold at first, but quickly changing to the temperature Melanie had found on the lower faucet. I felt my nipples get hard. I felt hers get hard too, as they pressed up against mine. It was a glorious feeling. I grabbed the soap and started to lather it in my hands. I looked over Melanie's shoulder to see the lather build as I rubbed my hands together behind Melanie's back. I ran my hand over Melanie's soft, wet back, leaving a trail of lather behind. Melanie roughly grabbed my arms and pushed them away from her body.
"Wash your own damn body thank you!" She yelled angrily.
"I thought that I was. I can wash the back of your half much more easily than you can." I explained.
"I'll manage." She said as she grabbed the bar of soap from my hands. I just shrugged and moved my soapy hands to my favorite spot to clean. I rubbed my lathery hand over my vagina, feeling waves of pleasure build as a started to rub harder and deeper. At that moment, I was startled by a moan coming from Melanie. I looked at her face and it showed the strain of pure sexual bliss on her face.
"Oh God, that feels so wonderful!" She exclaimed. I was puzzled for a moment as to what she was talking about before I remembered that she felt sensations from my body just as I felt ones from her body. Those sensations obviously included sexual ones. The strange thing was that she seemed to be enjoying my masturabtory motions much more than I was. She moved one of her soapy hands down to her vagina and start rubbing herself in a similar fashion. I was instantly overcome by a wave of incredible delight. The reason she looked as though she was enjoying it more was because it was much more exhilerating. The fact that I could feel sexual stimulation from a pussy that was mine yet someone else's translated into a sexual joy and satisfaction that I had never before known. The feeling was absolutely wonderful. I commenced rubbing my own vagina again. Suddenly, the sexual pleasure that was already more immense than I had ever known, became even more immense, as we both felt the sexual excitement from both of our vaginas. We stood there under the warm, running water, connected to each other, rubbing each of our pussies in unison, feeling the fabulous sexual excitement build in each of us as we had never known before. It seemed now, looking at the ecstasy that Melanie's face portrayed, Melanie had finally found something she liked about being conjoined.
After we finished masturbating, the water in the shower was almost ready to go cold. We quickly finished cleaning ourselves. I began lathering Melanie's back again. This time, she did not register a complaint. I boldly began to run my hands around her firm butt, and her long, slender legs, which she gladly lifted up for me so that I could reach all the way to her toes. It seemed that my touch was suddenly not as threatening to her. I ran the soap up our connected belly and up to the area between our tightly pressed triple breasts. I lathered and caressed our large and unique breasts, massaging there firm, bountiful roundness as the water dripped from our six nipples. Melanie was finally starting to open up, to feel the intimacy that our connection could bring.
Later that night, we decided to watch a little television. Luckily, Melanie had two TVs. We set them up on opposite sides of the room and placed the couch in the middle of the room. We took turns sitting on each other's lap, and watching the TV that corresponded to whichever way one of us faced, looking over each other's shoulder. We had to watch the same program, otherwise the sound of one would interfere with the other. It was alright. I wasn't interested much in TV anyway. I was so happy to be there with my love. I sat on her lap and wrapped my legs around her torso, hugging her lovingly with my legs. She did not resist. In fact, she responded by wrapping her arms around me and hugging me back. I placed my arms around her too, squeezing her tightly. Our large triple breasts pressed together in our sexy hug. We didn't say anything as we hugged that first night out of the hospital. I knew that she was still not completely accepting of her situation, and she knew that she could not deny the powerful intimacy and love that she was starting to feel. These facts were obvious to both of us. Those facts did not need to be spoken between us. It was a knowledge that comes from being so closely connected. We were already starting to know each other better than any normal human being could ever know another person.
Melanie did start to accept her new body more and more as time went on, and soon the therapy was no longer necessary. The media interest died down considerably after another couple of weeks; yet, the news people, especially the tabloids, never disappeared from our lives completely. Melanie's road to acceptance wasn't easy. We still had to face some difficulties along the way. The first one was clothing. What kind of top could two conjoined, three-breasted women wear?
The problem was quickly resolved by a clothing manufacturer willing to provide us with specially-made clothing, all free of cost, no doubt trying to cash in on the free advertising that our continued media exposure would afford them. I enjoyed strapping on Melanie's three-cupper bras for her, and while she didn't seem to enjoy it, she was willing to help me into my special bras as well, slipping my voluptuous three breasts into the soft, slick fabric of the cups and clasping shut the hook-and-eye closures in the back. Our shirts buttoned at the top and bottom and left our connected belly exposed. We used normal clothing for our lower bodies, although it always took us longer to put them on than it did before we were conjoined.
Next came the problem of our education and employment. I had wanted to continue with college, but Melanie could not bare to go from class to class with a whole new group of curious onlookers each new semester. She quit college which of course meant that I quit too. Melanie felt sure that she would be fired from her old job as a secretary. Her employer however welcomed her, or rather us, back to her old job with open arms and curious stares. Perhaps he feared some kind of discrimination lawsuit on our part. Melanie was content with her secretarial job and the support of her friends with which she worked. I, however, was bored by the menial secretarial job, and could feel that I was only tolerated by Melanie's coworkers.
I tried to persuade Melanie that we become dancers of the exotic variety. After all, I was very proud of this body that I had created for us. I was eager to show off as much of it as I could, and to tease the men who frequented the clubs with our erotic and strange body. Melanie on the other hand was disturbed by the idea. She was no where near comfortable enough with our body to dance and strip. I agreed never to bring of the subject of exotic dancing again. I suppose it was just as well. We were probably just as likely to scare the men in the clubs as we were to entice them. Moreover, I don't think we would made very skillful dancers when we couldn't even walk without looking awkward.
Driving, unfortunately, is not possible in our shared body. We depend on public transportation to get to and from work. Melanie detests the fact that we have to make a spectacle of ourselves every morning on the bus. I don't miss my car as much. I enjoy any opportunity to show off our body to the public. I've actually grown to love the fearful and perplexed stares.
I found myself bored with sitting on Melanie's lap while she somehow managed to type with one hand on the computer to our side. I eventually joined in the secretarial work, even though I detested it. I knew that there would be no convincing Melanie of moving to a new job. She was not strong enough to give up the support of the coworkers she had here.
...and that is how we live. The normal day to day existence of two people, fused into one. We do everything together. We face the challenges of a world built for single individuals, finding some way to cope in a conjoined body. It is difficult sometimes, but I never regret having transformed our bodies. Melanie has many regrets, but has also grown to love the intimate connection we share. No matter what happens, we will always have each other. We are still together, together forever. But, sometimes, I wonder if that is true.
Are we together forever? Or only for our lifetimes? Melanie is still a believer, and truly expects to move on one day to her heaven. I, on the other hand, can only expect that my soul, if I indeed have one, will belong to Kalquire. The medallion did accomplish what it had promised after all. Should not the price for obtaining it come true as well? Even though I was happy now in life, perhaps the transformation will eventually reveal itself as a curse. I now know the love and closeness of sharing this body with Melanie. The thought of having our souls ripped apart at the time of death is frightening. Yet, I had wished for Melanie and I to be together forever. Is it possible for human being to experience something forever and ever? I did not know the mysteries of death more than anyone else. I could only live, and enjoy the closeness I shared now.
I caressed the soft white flesh of our shared belly that night as Melanie and I lay in bed together. I ran my hands up to the tight space in-between our triple breasts, and further up to her soft cheek, softly brushing away her hair from her face. As I looked tenderly into her eyes, I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her lovingly, enjoying the closeness that we shared. I was one of the lucky ones. I would always know love, so long as Melanie and I remained together.
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