Senator Miss Pumpkin - afterword (Patreon)

Story: https://www.patreon.com/posts/senator-miss-93637582

A month had elapsed since the ill-fated wedding of Abigail and Joel. As days passed, Abigail's attempts to assert her true identity dwindled, replaced by a resigned acceptance of the life thrust upon her. Despite the occasional outreach to her previous existence as Jacob, she found herself more entwined in the absurdity of her new reality.

On this particular day, a photo shoot loomed as the latest episode in Abigail's reluctantly embraced feminine existence. Dressed in revealing attire, she stood against the barn wall, fuming at the white hat that adorned her head, the midriff-baring top, and the shorts that exposed more than she desired. The annoyance seeped through her as she cursed the necessity of standing in heels.

Abigail, now reluctantly accepting her fate as a hillbilly bride, stood in the barn, adjusting her hat and cursing the feminine attire that adorned her. The door creaked open, and she assumed it was the photographer returning for the shoot. Irritated by the wait, she turned around abruptly, her heels clacking against the wooden floor.

Abigail (with a thick hillbilly accent): 'Bout time ya got back. Let's finish this nonsense quick. Got some stupid chores at home I ain't lookin' forward to.

To her surprise, it wasn't the photographer but Frank, the only person who had believed her story about being Jacob, the senatorial candidate turned into a girl. Abigail's heart raced, realizing she had a chance to connect with someone who understood her bizarre predicament.

Frank: Well, howdy there. I ain't the photographer. I'm lookin' for the girl who claims she's Jacob. Where can I find her?

Abigail, still angry and suspicious, didn't reveal her true identity but instead inquired, "What ya want with Jacob, anyhow?"

Frank, fixing his gaze on Abigail, smirked and responded, "Just curious. Mind if we talk a bit?"

As he spoke, his eyes appraised her, focusing on her breasts, which caused a mix of discomfort and frustration for Abigail.

Abigail: Look, I ain't got time for games. If ya ain't the photographer, then what ya want?

Frank (politely): I heard a tale 'bout a fella named Jacob who turned into a girl. Thought I'd see if it's true.

Abigail, growing impatient, crudely raised her hand and grumbled, "Fine, I'm Jacob. Happy now?"

Frank, with an incredulous expression, chuckled, "If you're Jacob, then I'm the Queen of England."

Abigail, realizing that convincing Frank might be harder than expected, began to share her frustrations.

Abigail: It ain't no joke, mister. It infuriates me to be stuck as Abigail, wearin' these ridiculous outfits, feelin' these dang breasts all heavy and danglin'. I need help gettin' outta this mess.

Frank, maintaining his calm demeanor, asked for details, still skeptical.

Frank: Details, huh? How 'bout ya tell me what happened after this supposed transformation?

Abigail, trying to express her turmoil, began recounting her experiences, emphasizing the irritations of her new life.

Abigail: I can't show it, but it eats at me every day. I hate bein' a wife, wearin' these skimpy clothes, and havin' folks think I'm somethin' I ain't. Frank, ya gotta help me.

Frank, unswayed, kept his composure, "This ain't what I expected. Where's Jacob, for real?"

Abigail, desperate to make him understand, continued her plea, recounting the bizarre events that followed her transformation. Frank, however, didn't take her seriously.

Frank: Well, darlin', this ain't what I had in mind. I reckon it's time for me to head on out.

He left abruptly, slamming the door behind him, leaving Abigail alone in the barn, frustrated, and still trapped in her inexplicable existence as a hillbilly bride.