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South of the Border, Part 12 (Mexican Twin Sisters TFTG)
🕑 Added 2024-03-16 10:08:50 +0000 UTCBy FoxFaceStories
A Story Tier Prompt
When a group of college students go south of the border to Mexico for spring break, best friends Angus and Jared decide to party a little too hard. Their insensitivity to local custom annoys a local bruja, who decides to transform them into a pair of Mexican twin sisters who can’t even understand English anymore. They can only turn back if they help her with the household chores, but things take an unexpected turn for all three.
Part 12: Twins Forever
Angus had received one major warning from Maria, one that had made his haste to leave Josefina and Marco - and even Miguel - all the more crucial, though he hadn’t known it at the time. The warning came when he visited the kindly bruja on the way out of town, confronted by the strange feelings that were still swirling in his head.
“I thought I was a man again,” he said. “You said there would be some lingering parts, but they got stronger in his presence. I even spoke a little in Spanish, and felt . . . a weird pull. I can’t describe it. Fuck! It’s like I wanted to change.”
The tired woman rubbed her eyes. It was nearly midnight, but she was a patient person and Angus was most thankful for that, and vocally so. He was never going to make the same mistake of depriving a woman of her sleep and being rude about it.
“I think I know what this is. Actually, I know what it is, young man,” she said. “There’s always a risk once you have been in another body for a time, especially when you have experienced sex in it - and don’t deny that you have.”
Angus quieted. He knew he couldn’t. The sex had been wonderful, and just thinking about it made him feel that pull again. That delicious, reluctant tension.
“I, um, definitely had sex, yeah. Quite a lot.”
She nodded. “Si, si. Life energy is very powerful. A driving force of the universe. You have a pattern from your previous self that is still affixed to you. If you manage to ignore it, stay away from things that remind you of it, then you will be fine. But too much exposure to your old life, such as visiting Cancun or spending time with an attractive Mexican man like Miguel, will only upset your balance, and tip your ‘true self’ to that of Amarissa, instead of Angus, do you understand?”
He nodded nervously. “I could become Amarissa again. For good. Like Jared became Josefina.”
“Si, and pregnancy isn’t necessary here - or possibly, obviously. But when you feel that pull, you need to get away from the stimuli that causes it. I wish you luck, because there is little I can do otherwise to help you.”
***
Maria’s words haunted Angus in the following months. Occasionally, he had dreams of his time as Amarissa, even as he returned to college and had to face the awkwardness of being one of the ‘missing Cancun boys.’ Maria had done her best to smooth it all over with her magic, so rather than facing a big investigation and hullabaloo all over the internet and media, it was simply a small affair of a man who had ‘partied too hard.’ There was no mention of Jared to him by anyone, not even when he caught up with his now-former friends Alan and Mark and Sasha and all the rest. He’d seen the true side of them and wanted nothing to do with them (besides, they reminded him of being Amarissa, so avoiding them was a priority), but their lack of care for Jared turned out to be a lack of knowledge of Jared: reality had changed, and it was like the party boy and best friend had never existed. Somewhere out there, there was only Josefina now. Pregnant Josefina, without her twin sister. The thought made Angus cringe with guilt, and so he would shoot her a message or give her a call when she told him she was alone.
Talking was hard, of course. Borderline impossible, in fact. Angus had initially tried to learn some Spanish, but doing so brought to mind memories of being Amarissa, of the feel of Miguel inside him, of the way his large breasts had bobbed and bounced with feminine pride. So instead Josefina had to talk, and her English - while not terrible - wasn’t exactly fine either. It was also thickly accented. More than that, there was a gap between them: she was with Marco, trying to prepare for a family, her babies growing inside her, and Angus was back at college, playing sports, and trying to leave the whole experience behind him. The occasional message flitted back and forth, but as the days, weeks, and months passed, the exchanges became less frequent.
Still, he couldn’t help himself sometimes. When he texts, he simply had to inquire.
‘How is Miguel? Is he doing okay?’
It took a while for a response to be formed, though whether it was because Josefina was struggling to figure out her wording or struggling to console Angus about the truth was impossible to determine.
‘Miguel misses Amarissa,’ she eventually replied, two days later. ‘I am sorry. I do not know how else to explain it. He is trying, and working well. He wants to open his own bar - a long way off, LOL. But I believe he will do it. But he is lonely. Talks about her often. Finds it hard to look at me.’
Angus was sitting in a lecture theatre, hearing a boring professor drone on and on about sports science and the body in a course that was mandatory but felt like it had so much less meaning these days. He’s seen something that was more than science, and had inhabited a whole different body. What did this professor know? He hadn’t been turned into a latina woman. He hadn’t experienced having his language changed, his body language altered, his sense of sexuality turned to the other side. The message demanded his attention away from his detachment, so he read it.
And read it.
And read it again.
And grunted. Loudly.
The professor halted speaking. “Something the matter, Angus?”
Angus clutched his gut. He could feel the pressure there, the desire to change. His breathing quickened, and for a moment he was deathly afraid he would change in front of everyone. Certainly, for just a brief moment, his nipples tensed, pushing out against his top, and the skin of his forearms darkened to that same familiar olive. It retreated just as quickly as he calmed himself.
“S-sorry,” he said, “I have to go.”
He grabbed his things and left the lecture, still shaken up from what he’d just experienced.
“Holy shit,” he said to himself as he got outside. “I nearly just changed. I can’t - I can’t do that again.”
He didn’t reply to the message. He didn’t even look at the ones that followed. The next day he ignored them, and eventually he blocked the number entirely. As much as he cared about his lost friend, he simply couldn’t take the risk.
He had to stay the course or lose it all. Again. And this time for good.
***
Some residual aspects of his former life still came over him. Angus had to exit a party when a handsome latino man attended as it reminded him too much of Miguel. Occasionally a Spanish word slipped out, and he had to cover it as just ‘part of his style’, which always felt a little bit lame and cringey. Sometimes he still dreamed of having breasts, and while he was attracted to women again, the old Casanova-Angus was gone; he couldn’t go out with loads of women or enjoy a heap of one-night stands without calling his mind to the time when he’d been the one with breasts, with a pussy, with wide hips and a high voice moaning in ecstasy. It was odd just going out with a latina and/or Mexican woman, and soon he felt a bit dodgy for turning them down or avoiding them altogether.
“I’m sorry, I’m just interested in, uh, other kinds of people,” he said to a girl once.
She seemed to see right through him, because she chucked her drink right in her face, soaking him through. “Racist,” she muttered, walking off.
Not that he was racist. Perhaps his original vision of how Cancun would go down meant he had been, but not after his experience as Amarissa. It didn’t matter though; his actions now meant that he was avoiding an entire group of people purely because he was afraid of turning back. The pull to re-transform got stronger each time he came into contact with something like that, and there was little way of anticipating it sometimes.
“Just have to be me. Just have to be me. Just have to be me.”
Except he wasn’t really him, not anymore, at least. He attended less parties, frequented less social affairs, and took far, far fewer lovers compared to his old self. He didn’t prey on women for one-night stands, nor use disrespectful language around them. He also kept his own place neat and tidy where previously he only made it look better for guests, particularly those of the female persuasion. Yes, there was no denying he had changed from his experiences, and came out the other side a less aggressive, less dominant, and certainly a far more sensitive soul.
Which was what made it all the more alarming when he finally saw Josefina. It was an average day, the weather turning nice again, and Angus had actually managed not to think about his time as a latina in nearly two days. He hadn’t communicated with Josefina in some time, ghosting her completely. It guilted him something horrible, but he could see no other way for the pair of them to move on in their separate ways. But suddenly she was there, across the college outdoor green space, waddling along with her hand on her belly, her boyfriend’s hand in hers as she dragged him along.
“No way,” Angus said to himself. “It can’t be. I must be going loco. I mean, crazy.”
He rubbed his eyes to be sure, but it was indeed her. Josefina had changed significantly since he had last seen her. She must’ve been nearly due by that point, because her stomach was absolutely enormous. The fact that it hung out naked, ballooning outward between her tube top and short skirt, only made it more obvious. Seriously, it looked like she was overdue with twins.
“Is she having twins? Holy shit,” Angus said to himself. He hid behind a tree in the park area, uncaring how weird or creepy he might have looked. Josefina was asking people questions, steering Marco around. He had changed too: he had grown more of an artist’s goatee, but he also looked a bit more manly in general, like his older brother. The far bigger focus for Angus was his sister. His friend. The woman who looked very, very pregnant indeed, and with a larger bust to match.
“God, I miss having boobs,” he murmured to himself, before catching the words and tossing them mentally away.
Josefina was heading his way. So was Marco. They were searching for him, he just knew it. And when they found him he would feel the pull, and the sight of Josefina so close might just take him over the edge; to be a hermana again.
He withdrew, sneaking the occasional glance at the pair. He didn’t go back to his apartment either. Instead he sent emails to his lecturers and tutors and sports trainers claiming he was sick, and then he skipped down for a couple of days with just his bag and some spare clothes. He stayed at a hotel until things died down, uncaring that it was costing him a bit.
“Can’t afford it,” he murmured to himself again and again. “D-don’t want to change.”
But still his mind returned to that image of Josefina and Marco. He had seen them kiss, seen the reassurance between them, even seen Josefina happy despite the oddity of her situation and her own overburdened body. Angus tried to sleep in the hotel room but all he could do was lie awake and think about it. The pull was there, but his thoughts weren’t strong enough to push it away again.
“Miguel,” he said to himself. “I miss you. I miss you so deeply.”
She had been pregnant. She had been happy. She had been gorgeous, full of life and ripe with love. The comparison to his own body continued, and soon Angus’ thoughts were spiralling, twisting and turning in on themselves as he futilely tried to put them back into the box. He grunted, wincing as he felt his flesh tingle, the crawl across his skin beginning to darken his limbs almost imperceptibly.
“N-no,” he gasped, but again that image of Josefina came to. She had been beautiful, but lacking her twin sister. She missed her friend. God, she missed her friend so deeply. More than that, she missed her hermana.
Angus realised he was thinking of himself as a her and tore the thoughts back up. But it was like fighting a hydra: as soon as one temptation was lopped off, another pair grew in its place. Images of Miguel making love to Amarissa flooded Angus’ mind, as well as how it felt to wear such sexy outfits, how wonderful it felt to be desired and beautiful, to be soft and fragile yet protected by someone stronger. The bond she had shared with Josefina came to the fore too: they had always been close friends, but how close really, back when they had been male? They had talked girls and sport and parties, but nothing deeper. They hadn’t really struggled together, gone on any great adventures beyond the kind that saw them separate off to find hot girls to fuck. But as Amarissa and Josefina they had comforted one another, practically read one another’s mind, and always looked out for their hermana. Their bonding had been real, something Angus now sorely missed. Missed so terribly that the pull was now a hurricane, a force that could not be denied, just as surely as he could not deny his attraction to Miguel.
“Ohhhh,” he groaned, voice a little lighter than it should have been. “Miguel. I m-miss you.”
His cock stirred, and it felt wrong. A lower pair of lips was so much smoother, a womanly entrance neater and more fulfilling, when used properly. He squirmed, feeling the pressures surge over his body, more and more changes coming. They started as a trickle - a lengthening of hair here, a softening of skin there - to an absolute torrent. His chest burned, pushing outwards just as it had done months ago. His cock began to pull backwards. His hips cracked, splitting wider. His skin turned a delightful copper-bronze, the body hair dying away almost completely.
“Oh God, no! I didn’t mean - mmhmmm! Ohhhhh, d-don’t stop! Don’t stop Miguel!”
Angus’ mind warred with Amarissa’s, but the latter was winning handily. He had fought this pull for too long and now that he was in a moment of weakness, he was going to transform back into a latina hottie. Already his breasts were surging upwards, gaining tissue and fat and size. They became large, perfect teartrop shapes, and they jostled as he squirmed in bed, touching himself.
“M-make it quick then!” he shouted to the universe. “H-hurry up! Make me Amarissa already! I c-can’t stop it - ahhhh!!”
The changes accelerated, pouring forth into the man’s body, into what was increasingly a woman’s body, voice and figure and all. Angus kept the sight of Josefina in her mind’s eye, imagined becoming like that. Not pregnant - at least, not yet - but looking like her. Being her twin. Her hermana.
“Y-yessss,” she groaned. “G-give me back my sister, and me back to my sister. P-please! Ohhhh!”
The last changes settled in: her breasts formed fully, her hourglass figure settled, and her manhood withdrew completely, leaving her womanhood behind. Even her clothing changed to match her new figure and daring: it became a sexy nightie that may have covered her form well, but its transparent lining and tightness left exceedingly little to the imagination. No doubt Miguel would have loved it, enough to tear it straight off of her.
“Mhmmm, Miguel,” she moaned, touching herself. The pleasure was immense, and soon she was touching her body in full, rubbing her hands over all the most erogenous places. It left lingering bliss, and it didn’t take long before said bliss rose and rose with the tremorous quaking of her figure.
“Y-yes! Si! Si! Si! OOHHHH!!!”
The orgasm came, followed by a second one that overlapped the first but easily outlasted it. She shuddered, arching her back in bed and causing her dark hair to spill everywhere. It had been too long since she had felt a female climax, and it returned to her like an old friend, one that she wanted to comfort and hold for as long as it lasted.
It was only afterwards, as she lay there, her breath slowly winding down to normality, that she released what she had done.
“Dios mio,” she said to herself. “Oh no. Oh no, oh no! Shit! Mierda! I let myself go. She should never have visited. If I didn’t see Josefina and Marco, if I didn’t imagine Miguel . . . I never would have . . .”
She stood, trembling, and moved to the mirror to look at herself. Indeed, there in the mirror was Amarissa, just as perfect and pretty and buxom and curvaceous as ever. It had been long enough now that the sight and sensation was strange again, but now Amarissa knew it was permanent. It wasn’t her sister’s fault, she knew. Josefina hadn’t even known about the pull, the desire to change back. But in the end it had happened anyway.
“This is me for life now,” she said in her thickly accented Spanish. “I’m Amarissa.”
***
It took time to track down her sister. Her life had been overhauled once again, and there was no returning back. She packed up her things - her now-womanly things, including her bras and panties and the like - and left the hotel. She had apparently still enrolled in college, though her courses had changed to include psychology. Several people waved at her, indicating that they knew Amarissa. Many of the boys stared, and this too gave her mixed feelings. She felt like a piece of meat, but also a figure greatly admired. She couldn’t quite figure out where to stand on that, especially since her own body exaggerated her movements, letting her hips sashay and her large bust bounce pleasingly. At times, she even did so with a bit of extra gusto before catching herself.
“Stupid straight girl brain,” she muttered to herself in her new primary language. “Need to find my sister. Need to find Josefina and - and Miguel.”
Sure, it would be good to see Marco, but now that she was a woman, perhaps that was a chance . . .
She fell back into her malaise, and continued her search. Every day she tried to get back into contact with Josefina across a variety of platforms, but because she had blocked the number and deleted it, let herself forget it, she had lost her contact. It was only half a month later, after she had expanded her search, that she got the piece of news she needed: an article in the ‘new births’ section of the newspaper. She had been buying them everyday despite earning only a little money in her job as a barista (a new part of this changed reality, and one that left a lot of annoying men smirking at how she filled out the uniform). Sure enough, a woman named Josefina had given birth to twins. The father’s name was also Marco. It had to be them, and they were only a state over.
And so it was that she headed off, in search of her hermana.
***
“You - you’re back to being a woman!” Josefina declared.
Amarissa nodded awkwardly, clutching her arm. “Si, hermana. I am.”
“Why? How? Did you choose?”
She gave a wan smile. “I suppose I sort of did. I saw you on campus and ran away. I didn’t want . . . I can’t explain it. It was making me want to change, and then the changes would start. I had to push them down each day. But that time, after seeing you pregnant and Marco and yourself so happy . . . I couldn’t put away the pull forever. And I gave. I didn’t mean to at first, but I did. The changes came so quickly and I lost all control, and soon I was Amarissa again.”
Josefina was quiet. Her babies were sleeping, and she was tired, and now her sister had returned to her. Part of her felt like celebrating. Another part felt like getting up, waddling over, and pushing Amarissa right out the door, all while yelling, “Too late! You can’t make amends now, not after you abandoned me! You are no longer my hermana!”
But her emotions welled up, and in truth she was simply happy to see her sister again, even if she wasn’t quite showing it yet.
“I truly am sorry,” Amarissa said, stepping forward a little. “I shouldn’t have ghosted you, sister. I shouldn’t have left in the first place. I didn’t mean to become a woman again, but it’s what I deserve. I think, on some level, it’s what I wanted, even if it will take a long time for me to get used to it all again. It’s for life now. I’m Amarissa for life.”
“Just as I’m Josefina,” her sister said.
Silence paused between them.
“What about Miguel?” Josefina said. “Have you seen him?”
“I haven’t.”
“Do you want to?”
She did. Dios mio, she did. She wanted to beg for his forgiveness, to tousle his hair and feel his warmth. It must have been obvious, because Josefina finally smiled.
“Si, you do. I can already tell how obvious it is, hermana.”
Amarissa blushed and looked down at herself. At her gorgeous body. It could be his.
“I know. I don’t know if he’ll forgive me.”
“Oh, he will. Maybe he’ll be angry at first, but he will.”
“I’m going to cry when he sees me. I cry all the time now. I didn’t expect any of this.”
Josefina laughed. “Don’t talk to me about emotions and crying! It happened when giving birth, and happens all the time when I see my babies. Would you like to come meet them? Come see Gabriella and Maria. Your nieces.”
Tears bubbled up in Amarissa’s eyes. “My nieces,” she said, marvelling at the little babies in their capsules. “Dios mio, how our lives have changed, huh?”
“Still, we’re finally together again, right?”
Amarissa looked at her sister. Her twin. She never wanted to leave her again.
“Of course, hermana.”
“Good. I missed my twin.”
The pair shared an embrace. Their lives were forever altered, but perhaps it wasn’t a bad thing. In fact, as Amarissa held her sister and looked to her little nieces, it made her mind wander. She knew where her next stop was. She hoped Miguel would be happy to see her again. This time, she wasn’t letting him go either.
The End
Comments
Tyler Thompson
I feel as though this was left on a cliffhanger, I’d love to see an epilogue where she meets back up with miguel and starts her life again with him.
Bronin
Great end to the story! I'd love to see an epilogue with Amarissa joining her sister with a set of twins herself!
