Truly You

By Lindsey Schussman

Della Vash woke up to the worst hangover of her life... A transformation into a man. Della, a once 30 year old lesbian, must now learn how to function as the opposite sex. As she struggles with her new life, she must tackle new tasks such as a wife and family. Della Vash is put to the test as how she should present herself. Either be the man, or be the woman in a man's body.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lindsey Schussman
• Release date: Mar 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9781310420689

Lindsey Schussman

I thank you for taking the time to read! Tell me what you think. Leave a review... I know I have much to improve on, so tell me what you want! I love to write... I just have to find the time, and the attention span... I am the Switchblade Mamma and her creator. If you like Truly you, then read the Switchblade Mamma... She has a whole world to save, soon... First of three books!I am also a photographer, lover of karaoke and a proud owner of a Chevelle. YES, all of my work is free, why? Because I do suck at editing... Working on that, but until then, you get crazy free storys that are a bit encrypted... ENJOY!The Blade, book 3 of the Switchblade Mamma series is coming in 2018! Still working on her... I assure you, you wont be dissapointed!

Book preview

Truly you…

By Lindsey Schussman

Wednesday, December 16th 2015 (7:30AM)

She didn’t think that she could have experienced any worse of a head tremor in her life. She was nowhere near being a morning person. The fact that her eyelids pulsated every painful beating heart palpitation fluctuating behind her eyes, drove her up a wall, placed perfectly in her dream.

Della Vash was a stubborn woman. Twisted inside by the fact that she also had to pee, her bedside movement became more sporadic. Della was going to fight it. She would not wake to pee, or to comfort her headache, she would merely wait until her alarm chimed. She figured her suffering would be better served when her eyes were opened, at the proper time.

Della’s slumbering darkness became more and more hostile as she began to fight other ailments. Everything inside of her began to feel different, she began to feel heavy. She could feel her heartbeat change, and her muscles clench. And as she listened quietly inside of her head, she could hear the hair on her body grow.

It was an echoing sound, the creaking you would hear as an old, tall tree was hacked and slowly fell to its doom to the ground. And as one tree fell, another grew. Della had experienced many horrible mornings before. It was her usual weekends, spending her days as a zombie, only because she could not say no to a beer, nor cigarettes. It was the growth which protruded, the strange feeling between her legs, which finally prompted her to open her eyes.

The glare from the sun was unforgiving. And as soon as Della opened her eyes, they were quickly covered by her hands, bigger and coarser by the touch. As soon as she raised herself from the bed, the pounding overtook Della, causing her to fall to the floor.

There was a crash. Della had hit the corner of a dresser on her way down. Holy fuck! Della ranted as she, still blinded, felt about the room, trying to feel for the bathroom. It was the first doorknob that Della could grab within her palm, turning, losing her place, falling and catching the porcelain toilet on the way down. Fuck you… She said plainly, dazed and confused and too tired to start an argument with an inanimate object… At least at the moment.

She held herself there for a bit, trying to gather what little composure she had left. It wasn’t until she felt the familiar rumblings of a nauseated sour stomach that she began to worry. When it began to rise like an angry volcano, when the fiery throat sauce began to saddle up to her uvula, Della opened her eyes.

The view was blurred and highly distorted. With the way Della was feeling, cleaning up her dirty upchuck was the last thing that she wanted to do. Before she spouted and became a dirty fire hydrant, Della forcefully crawled her way up to the toilet, and orally disemboweled herself of her acidic Niagara Falls. It was nowhere near the relief that Della had wished for. Her world was in a spin and she was an unhappy passenger.

Della, exhausted from the eruption, lay for a moment on the floor staring at the ceiling. The cool tiles comforting her aching back and the plush bath rug, cradling her head. Though things were blurred, Della felt a strange feeling. The hairs on her arms began to spike up as she remembered that she did not own a bath rug. And through her beer mugged vision, the bathroom was nowhere near to resembling that of hers.

Della, swallowing hard and beginning to feel her pulse race, pulled her hands over her face. The feeling was all wrong and Della’s heart was tossed into a sway. She pulled herself together, picking herself up to reach the sink. Maybe some cold water splashed upon her face would do her some good.

It was a small struggle to the sink, but a journey indeed. Della struggled with the faucet as it too felt differently in her hands. She clenched her eyes closed tightly, for the air began to irritate and itch them. The water smoothly and coolly ran over her heated skin. Della pooled the water in her palms and splashed it all over her face, her ears, and completely overhauling her eyes. A hot unfamiliar scruffiness on Della’s face aroused her curiosity more.

Della’s main concern was her blindness. Never had she awoke to her eyes being in such a terrible state. She splashed her eyes profusely, not forgetting her other ailments… Pee was next, surly that was to fix the weird feeling she was having… Down there.

Minutes she spent at the sink, splashing. Della’s fogginess seemed to quickly lift. Out of nowhere, her mind became clear. Della took her face from the cool waters of the sink as everyone does before they continue about their day, got that one, you good lookin devil you! glimpse in the mirror. Only it was not Della’s face that she was looking at, it was that of a man’s.

Wide eyed and opened jawed, she looked into the mirror. She raised her hand, only to see it clearly now, big, manly and not hers. Della swallowed hard, and watched as her adam’s apple trailed itself down. Her eyes were in a trance. Della covered them quickly, hoping all would fade away. She took a deep breath and released. When she removed her hands and opened her eyes, Della Vash was still a man. Still staring at herself in the mirror, she shook her head and loudly screamed, HOLY FUCK!!!!!

Aracely Raygil was in the kitchen, doing her normal routine. She was a late nighter, and an early riser. She was everything and anything a husband would want out of a wife. Aracely was making breakfast, waiting for her sleepy husband to get up.

Aracely was an intelligent woman, needing no support, but old fashioned all the same. In Hungary, she married at seventeen to the neighborhood boy down the street. It was not out of love, but necessity. Aracely’s parents, finding it a proper union in order for their daughter to grow properly.

Aracely had been always one step ahead of the game and at least two ahead of her husband. She had kept it quiet, never letting her husband know how far ahead of the game she truly was. Aracely had set the breakfast