I realized my eyes were closed, but light penetrated my eyelids. I was warm. A sheet or light blanket covered me. Where was I? The last thing I remembered was the anesthesiologist placing a mask over my face and saying, “Breathe deeply.” Now, here I was, wherever “here” was.
I opened my eyes. There were fluorescent lights and ceiling tiles. The air had a chemical odor. Hospital? Was I in a hospital?
I tried to move my hands, but they were restrained. Curious. Feet and legs, too. And I couldn’t lift or turn my head.
“I see you are awake,” came a voice from behind.
My voice croaked like I had the mother of all colds. “Where am I?”
“You’re in recovery. The procedure seems to have been a complete success, but we have kept you in a coma until now to give your body time to adapt. How do you feel?”
How did I feel? Like a truck had run over me. Everything hurt. Not painful, more like I had been exercising for a very long time. Sore muscles, aching joints, tired.
“Like I just completed a triathlon and need a good massage and a long, hot bath.”
“It is to be expected. The effects will fade in time. And once we get you off the table, you may have that hot bath,” the voice said.
“Why am I restrained?”
“We did not know how you would react when you came out of the coma, and did not want you to injure yourself,” the voice said. “If you feel up to it, we will release you and help you stand.”
“Let’s give it a shot.”
Two enormous women came into view, one on either side. They released the restraints and helped me sit up. The room started spinning, and I started gagging. They let me back down, then raised me again, more slowly.
“Come over here and let me show you,” the voice said.
The women lifted me off the table and supported me as we turned toward the voice.
He was standing near a full-length mirror. “Take a look. I think we have finally perfected the process and are ready to roll it out. What do you think?”
The women led me before the mirror, and all I could do was stare. I could see the reflection of the two women, one on each side. But the person they were supporting wasn’t me. I was five-ten, one seventy, brown hair, stubble beard, standard male equipment below the belt.
That’s not the person I was seeing in the mirror. SHE was five-ten, maybe one twenty-five, curly red hair, big tits, narrow waist, flared hips, a black bikini bottom. I kept thinking, it has to be a trick mirror. Then I looked down and saw those same tits. And the black bikini.
Then it all came back to me. We were developing a revolutionary new protocol to deal with gender dysphoria. After years of research and development, we had come up with a protocol that passed every test. The last hurdle was how to introduce it into the body, and for that, we had engineered a unique virus for the delivery vehicle. We needed a guinea pig to test it, and I had volunteered.
I had always felt I was a woman in a man’s body, but had never considered gender reassignment surgery, so when I learned the company I worked for, Transitions, was working on a non-surgical option, I volunteered to be one of the first to undergo it.
“Well, what do you think?” I turned to the speaker. It was Gary Morgan, CEO and Chief Science Officer. An enormous smile lit up his face. “I had high expectations, but you’ve exceeded them all.”
“How long has it taken?” I asked.
“Almost a year. After the virus distributed the new chromosome, your body slowly changed to conform to your new gender identity. We put your body in an exercise machine for two hours each day to keep your muscles from atrophying. We took daily videos to document the transition. It was mildly disturbing to watch your penis and testicles become a clitoris and ovaries. We may have enjoyed watching your breasts grow too much. We’re making a documentary to show prospective clients. Of course, we will blur your face. But now you’re physically a woman, and we believe that’s something we can market.”
“What about the extras?” I asked.
“I wondered if you would remember.” Gary paused. “We put them in. We have been wondering how they will work. We have had no way to test them stand-alone.”
I pinched a nipple and staggered, a burst of excitement flooding my brain. “Wow, if that was any indication, they work all too well.”
“Let’s get you into some clothes. We have an apartment nearby where you will stay while we do some post-procedure checks to make sure there are no surprises.”
The first thing I did at the apartment was take a shower. I was surprised that I automatically knew how to blow-dry and style my hair, and apply makeup. Part of the extras, I realized, and I would have to tell Gary that they worked flawlessly. The closet and dresser were filled with clothes my size, and I quickly dressed. Gary had made a reservation for dinner, and he was taking me out for my first introduction to the world as a woman. I was nervous until I realized that no one had ever seen me in my current form. It would be interesting to see if people I had known as a man would recognize me now.
I saw no one I knew, but I felt everyone’s eyes on me. I mentioned it to Gary.
He laughed. “You are the most beautiful woman in the room. The men and some of the women are undressing you with their eyes, except those women staring daggers.”
I felt myself blush, but I could see it in their faces. I no longer had to try to pass as a woman, fearing discovery. I now was the real deal.
After dinner, Gary dropped me off at my apartment, saying a car would bring me to the facility in the morning. I thanked him for the dinner and entered the building.
But the night was young, and after about half an hour I decided to go out. Donning a body suit, leather skirt, and heels, I called an Uber and went to Juicy Lucy, my favorite club.
The place was full as usual. I got a seat at the bar and ordered a gin and tonic. Surveying the crowd, I saw several people who had known me as a man. Most of them looked me over, but none of them gave a sign of recognition. I smiled to myself; I had made the transition.
Suddenly, someone was standing very close to me. I looked up into the eyes of Walt Blackstone. He came here often, and I had overheard women talking about him. They said he could charm a nun out of her panties.
“I haven’t seen you around here before, honey,” he said. “And I sure would have noticed. How about letting me buy you a drink?”
“I don’t think so,” I replied. “I’m just stopping on the way home.”
He put his arm around my waist and leaned in, his lips grazing my neck. “Just a little one. How about we get a booth?”
My mind fogged. I couldn’t speak. I felt my nipples get hard and my pussy tingle. He looked into my eyes, and I saw recognition that he knew how I responded.
He moved right in and kissed me, his tongue working my lips apart and invading my mouth. My tongue caressed his, my hands to his hair, holding him to me. The fog increased.
He pulled me from my stool and led me to a booth near the back. The waitress came for our order. “Bring me a double scotch and a sloe screw for my girlfriend,” he said. She smirked as she walked away.
He turned back to me. “You are a hot one,” he said. His lips were back on mine, his tongue busy, while his hands tweaked my nipples and squeezed my breasts.
My body was on fire, and I had no idea why. I thrust my tits into his hands, worked my mouth on his while holding two hands full of his hair. We separated when the waitress brought our drinks, then we were right back at it.
He took my hand and held it to his lap, on his erect cock. “You want to see it?” he whispered. He reached down, unfastening his belt and opening his trousers. Taking my hand, he put it into his underwear. When I grasped it, he inhaled sharply. “Go ahead, honey, take it out.”
Once I got it out, I gasped. It was big. Really big. He took my hand and started masturbating it. I continued when he let go. I saw the precum appear at the tip. He wiped it off with a finger and put it into my mouth. “Lick it,” he said. Then he said, “Look at me.” I looked into his eyes. “Suck it.”
I sucked his finger for a few seconds, then he looked around and, putting his hand on the back of my head, brought my face to his waist. I knew what was going to happen, and was surprised to find that I was anticipating it.
“Open wide, baby, I’ve got some hot honey for you.”
I had often fantasized about sucking a cock, but never was able to overcome my reluctance. There certainly was no reluctance now. I sucked it like a starving puppy, licking the tip and caressing his balls. He began to hunch into my mouth, holding my head down, breathing hard. He must have been primed, because a few minutes later, his legs shot straight out, and he began pumping his load into my mouth. I drank it down like it was the finest wine.
He pulled me back up, putting himself away and buttoning his pants. I looked at my drink. It was sloe gin and orange juice. I drank half of it and sat back. I was still smoldering. Maybe he got his, but I was still waiting.
He ran his hand up my skirt and came to my sopping wet pussy. When he rubbed against the crotch of the body suit, I humped against his fingers.
“C’mon, it’s time we got out of here.” He threw some money on the table, took my hand, and led me out the back door.
His SUV was in the shadows. He unlocked it, raised the hatch, and put me inside. He lay the back seats down, climbed in, and used the remote to close the hatch.
Then he was on me again. His mouth on mine, hands pinching my nipples, squeezing my tits, rubbing my pussy. And all I could do was moan and react to him.
He hiked my skirt to my waist and unsnapped the crotch of the body suit. He kicked off his shoes, undid his pants, and kicked them off, too. He climbed over me, wiping his cock over my pussy. “Ready for this? I know I am.”
And with one lunge, he was balls deep. He held it deep, flexed it, enjoying the feeling of his cock soaking in my hot, wet pussy. Then he began to fuck me, hard. His hands went to my ass, holding it steady, while his hips battered his cock against my cervix. I automatically raised my legs to cross behind his ass. My hands gripped his shoulders, while a voice I barely recognized as my own exhorted him on.
“Oh, my God, fuck me! Give me that cock! I’m cumming, oh Jesus, I’m cumming, fuck me harder, FUCK ME HARDER!”
My arms went around his neck, I drew his face to mine, thrusting my tongue into his mouth. My hips beat against his, working to get that last millimeter of cock into me. I was powerless against the responses my body was programmed to give him.
He looked down into my eyes. “Yeah, baby, here’s the first load of my cum for your cunt.” I felt the throbbing and knew he was shooting his cum into me. Then he pulled out and lay on his back.
I had cum, but once wasn’t enough. I took his cock in my mouth and sucked him until he was hard again. I mounted him and rode him through two more orgasms before he unloaded again.
I lay on his chest as our breathing returned to normal. It was then that I realized what I had done. I had to get back to my apartment before anything else happened.
I straightened myself up and got out a side door. “Wait a minute, honey, I’ll give you a ride,” he said.
Fortunately, a taxi was at the corner. “No thanks, I’ll take a cab.” And I hustled to take it.
“At least give me your number!” he called.
I ignored him and got out of there.
The next morning, Gary took one look at me and knew what had happened. “It’s my fault,” he said. “I should have given you the list of extras. One of them was heightened sexual response. We can teach you ways to control it, but we didn’t think you would go out on your own so early.”
So, a morning after pill and blood test for STDs later, I began post-op processing.
