This choice: Fights carefully, adjusting to her new body • Go Back...Chapter #4Samson In A New Body by: Sly F   Suddenly being flooded with estrogen instead of testosterone all at once was difficult to adjust to. The woman who had called herself Samson now struggled inside a body that was hers and yet was entirely unfamiliar to her. Her skin felt thin and brittle and her muscles all felt sore and tender to the touch. The fat in her body was distributed entirely differently, and some sort of support for the fat breasts replacing her formerly tight pectorals would have eased her discomfort considerably. The unexpected weight of the pendulous breasts as they hung naked from her body sent aches through her back. On top of all that, she was filled with emotions that, like her body, were almost familiar but also entirely new.
But adjusting to these new developments would have to wait. The snarls of the demons drew her gaze down from the roof to where the succubus and incubus were writhing painfully as grotesque wings sprouted from their backs. Soon the psychic berserker would once again lose her height advantage.
She drew her trusty bastard sword, forged from synthetic demon-slaying metals, as she had so many times before, but this time it was a struggle. No longer feeling like a natural extension of her arm, the weapon pulled painfully on her muscles as she brandished it. It felt as if her entire body was freshly healing from extensive injuries. Even with her rage, her new body wasn't as battle ready as she needed it to be for this encounter. She'd need to train herself to feel as comfortable in her new skin as she had in her old. If she survived this.
Beatrice, the succubus, came at the frantic warrior first. The berserker swung the sword, but it was heavy in her hands and swung short and low, whizzing harmlessly away from the demon. Beatrice laughed and slashed with her razor-sharp claws as she flew past, drawing blood from the warrior's cheek.
The wounded berserker barely had time to move her head to see Dante, the incubus, flying at her other shoulder. She swung again, and this time she was at least able to connect, slashing one of Dante's leathery wings, even though it was only a shallow scratch.
The woman who'd known herself as Samson could feel Dante and Beatrice turning in mid-air, ready to fly in for a rear assault. She tried to turn, but the act of turning with the heavy sword while perched precariously on the ledge of the roof proved too much for her. She lost her balance and plummeted to the ground, landing on her bleeding face and overly sensitive breasts.
The rage and adrenaline kept her from giving in to the pain completely and enabled her to at least roll over on her back. She could see where her sword had landed when she dropped it as she fell, just a few feet away. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to stand, but by the time she got to her feet, Beatrice had landed between her and the sword, hissing and showing off sharp fangs and bloody claws. Dante dropped down on the other side of the psychic berserker.
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