Saturday, June 12th

Where the hell is the–

- C LI C K -

Damn. Heh. Great shot of my knees and the edge of the bed. Guess I have the thing
turned around the wrong way. Camera must be on the other side. Let’s see...

- C LI C K -

Page 1
Ah! My eyes! Damn it, now I’m blind... Wait... heh, looks like I’m some kind of
photographic genius. Great shot of a surprised doofus who’s holding the camera too
close and staring into the flash. Heheh.

Alright, let’s try this again.

- C LI C K -

Hmmm... not bad, I guess. These cellphones today have pretty good cameras in them,
all things considered. I mean, I can actually see some pretty good detail. Hard to
see all of me though, and the lawyer said I should photo-document my whole body.
Maybe I’m not holding it far enough out from my body.

Page 2
 - C LI C K -

Hmm, that’s not really much better. How the hell do people use these things to take
self-portraits? I doubt it has a delay function so I can set it down and move farther
back. And holding it at arm’s length I still can’t see my whole body... not much more
than my upper torso at best. Including my face. Nice expression... or lack thereof.
Heh.

Page 3
Oh wait... duh, of course.

- C LI C K -

Brilliant. Use the standing mirror that’s two feet away from your bed, genius. Heh.
Now we’re talking. But I’ve still got an idiotic expression. It wouldn’t do for Tammy
to see this; she’d never let me live it down.

Page 4
 - C LI C K -

Aw yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ bout. Bad to the bone, that’s me. How you doin’,
baby? Don’t mind me, I’m just Studly McStudleyson here, showing off the body that
drives all the girls wild. Heh.

Page 5
Lets just take off my shirt and show off those washboard abs, shall we?

- C LI C K -

I was pulled from my musings by the sound of the front door closing at the far
end of the house.

“Babe?” my girlfriend called out, “where are you?”

“Back here, babe. In my room,” I answered.

Page 6
“I’ve just got back from the lawyer’s office–”

- C LI C K -

“Hey!” she said, startled. “What the... I wasn’t even ready for a picture! Don’t
mess around, you caught me off-guard. What are you doing?”
“Just what the lawyer said to do,” I answered smugly. “Taking pics. Snappin’
photos. I was just figuring out how this little baby works. See, it’s not a bad
picture, babe; you look beautiful.”
“I look off-guard,” she retorted, pouting over the picture she was seeing on my
cellphone. “It isn’t nice to take a girl by surprise. And besides, the photos you’re
supposed to be taking are of you, not me.”

Page 7
“Aw, baby, don’t be like that. After all, I like to take you by surprise, heheh. Come
here... I’ll give you warning this time.”

“Nicky, don’t,” she protested as I pulled her in close, “I look frumpy in this dress–”

“Then we’ll just have to get you out of it,” I said, not taking no for an answer and
firmly taking hold of her wrists, holding them behind her back so she couldn’t
pull away. “Hello, world, this is my girlfriend, Tammy. She’s got a great ass, and
it’s all mine to do with as I please.”

“Wait!”

- C LI C K -

Page 8
“You brute!” she said, giggling despite herself.

“You love it, you naughty girl,” I said, grinning.

“Well, are you going to let me go?”

“Hmmm, I’m not sure I am. I like having you at my mercy. You’re sexy when
you’re overpowered.”

She pouted. “You’re a neanderthal. Have you even used that thing to take any
shots of yourself? After all, that is what the lawyer gave it to you for.”

“Chill out, babe, I’m on it. I already took some. See, here’s one without my shirt.
Sexy, don’t ya think?”

“Nicky,” she protested, “these won’t do. The lawyer said we have to document
any and all changes to your body!”

I smirked. “Well, you know how shy I am, after all. And I’m not happy about the
idea of some dude staring at a photo of my ‘junk’, either.”

She snorted in derision. “Since when are you shy about anything? You need to
take pics of yourself naked, and that’s all there is to it.”

“Heh, are you trying to get me naked, babe?” I asked, grinning. “It isn’t that
important anyway; it’s been three days since the ‘happy accident’ and nothing
has happened to me at all. I feel fine. Hell, I feel better than fine.” I pulled off my
shirt again and flexed my muscles. “See?”

“That’s not the point and you know it, Nicky,” she said, giving me an arch look.
“There’s a lot of money at stake here; you know that. So just do what the lawyer
told you to do.”

“Well,” I conceded, smiling, “If you really want to get me naked, your wish is my
command. Though turnabout is fair play, wench!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

“It’s a deal,” I said, “and don’t try to back out of it, little miss.”

“I’m not making any deals–” she started, but I quickly cut her off, whipping off
my jeans and underwear.

Page 9
“One ‘full-monty’ style naked pic, coming up!”

- C LI C K -

“Hey, not bad, eh?” I said, showing her the resulting pic on my phone. “Now it’s
your turn.”

“My turn for what?” she said. “Don’t even think about it...”

“I believe we had a deal: I get naked and you get nakeder.”

She giggled, backing away. “I didn’t make any deals, Nicky, that was all a
ridiculous fantasy of yours that won’t be happening right now. And besides,
there’s no such word as a ‘nakeder’.”

Page 10
She tried to scamper past me but I caught her wrist and pulled her towards me.
“Why you little vixen! Reneging on our deal... and daring to correct my grammar
to boot!”

“Nicky, no!” she said, laughing and squirming in my grip as I pulled her in close,
“we really don’t have time for this right now... I’ve got that appointment in, like, a
half hour–”

“You little fibber,” I scolded her playfully, easily overpowering her attempts
to resist and unzipping the back of her dress, “you said earlier that your
appointment wasn’t until six... and that’s at least an hour from now!”

I stole a kiss from her and she surrendered to it, panting as our lips parted.
“Well, yeah,” she said breathily, “but if we get started in some hanky panky now
I’ll never be ready in time... an hour isn’t so long a time, you know.”

“Mmmm...” I was nuzzling her neck now, and her feeble and half-hearted
protests and resistance had faded as she surrendered to my affections, giving
little sighs and moans as I nibbled and kissed her there (one of her favorite
places to be touched). “So... then you admit you fibbed to me.... what a naughty,
naughty girl.” I growled the last bit, kissing her gently and then much more firmly
while removing her dress entirely. Her bra quickly followed, her lovely breasts
exposed to my touch and her nipples standing up proudly.

“Mmmm,” I continued, letting my hands wander lightly over her skin, causing her
to pant and squirm, “you’re right, though. No hanky panky, not for a naughty girl
like you. Instead... I think what you need is a little... hanky spanky first.”

She squealed as I pulled her over my lap, her perfect tight bottom at just the
right position, her hair hanging over her eyes as she looked back at me in a
mixture of arousal, anticipation and maybe just a little bit of alarm.

SMACK!

I gave her a playful spank over her panties, and then two more in quick
succession.

SMACK! SMACK!

She squirmed in my lap, protesting, and reached back a hand to shield her ass,
which I quickly caught and held by the wrist, pinning it in the small of her back
and holding her even more steady.

“Nicky, no,” she said. “Don’t!”

“Oh I think a naughty little miss like you needs a good... firm... bare bottom
spanking,” I responded, smiling, and gave her several more playful spanks to
punctuate the last several words as she twisted, cried out little grunts and sighs.

SMACK! SMACK! .... SMACK! SMACK!

“Now let’s get those panties off, little miss, and see if we can’t turn that pretty
bottom of yours a nice red color,” I scolded her gently, and suited actions to
words.

Page 11
This was just a playful sensual spanking, and I was certainly not using anything
close to my full strength, but even so she was quickly crying out, squirming, and
her beautiful bottom quickly went from a light pink to a much darker scarlet.

“What a sexy ass,” I said, pausing to admire my handiwork. “I could just kiss it.”

“You’re the ass,” she said brattily. “and you can kiss–” SMACK!

“Oh! Ouch! You brute!” she said, as I interrupted her protests with another spank
that had a little more fire in it. Then: “Oooh....” as I leaned down and nuzzled her
sexy bottom, planting a gentle kiss on it.

Tammy was a kinky girl, and though we don’t delve into any sort of hard BDSM,
she is what is known as a ‘spanko’, and enjoyed being bossed around a little
during sex – not all the time, mind you – but nothing turned her on more than
a little spanking as foreplay. She’s perfect for me, as my own kinks are inclined
much the same way. Although if I’m honest she’s more kinky than I am, and
whereas I always am dominant she is only sometimes submissive and has tried
to get dominant with me on more than one occasion... and has always ended up
over my knee for her trouble. Heh.

“Who’s the naughty girl?” I asked, still nuzzling her reddened bottom.

“Mmmm,” she moaned, “I am... I’m your bad little girl,” she murmured.

“And who’s in charge?” I pushed.

“You are... oh, kiss me there!”

I pulled her up so she was sitting in my lap, and we kissed and petted for a few
minutes.

“See,” I said, “there’s always time to have some hanky spanky, eh?”

She giggled. “That’s a stupid phrase, and probably not even a real word.”

“Oh really, Miss Mouthy? And you think hanky panky is really in the dictionary?
Just for that, let’s immortalize this moment on camera.”

Page 12
“Oh Nicky no,” she protested, “you can’t just–”

- C LI C K -

I chuckled. “You were saying, my love? I believe I can do anything I please... and
now for that hanky panky you were talking about...”

I silenced her protests with a kiss.

Page 13
Monday, June 14th
I yawned as I walked into the bathroom, rubbing my eyes. Tammy had gotten up
earlier, but as usual I had slept in. I no longer had a job, and since the accident
it looked like I wouldn’t really ever need to get one, what with the way the lawyer
was talking and how much it looked like Genetacorp was going to fork over to us
once the lawsuits were all done.

I peered at myself in the bathroom mirror.

- C LI C K -

Hmmm, weird... I thought. Is the lights in here? I know Tammy was saying it’s
probably all in my head, but my hair looks lighter to me.
Page 14
I leaned forward to get a closer angle. Yep, definitely looked like my hair had
turned from light brown to dark blond.

There’s no way it’s just the lighting. My hair is definitely a different color.

- C LI C K -

A spike of worry ran through me. Up until now, the possibility that I had been
exposed to whatever chemicals were in the Genetacorp truck after the crash had
strictly been theoretical. Now that I was seeing actual changes in my hair color, it
looked like maybe it had been confirmed.

Still, it’s not really a big deal. The company man from Genetacorp did say that even
if I was exposed to something, it would be a healing agent type thing and wouldn’t
Page 15
do me any physical harm. And I was blond when I was a kid anyway, so getting back
to having blond hair isn’t an entirely bad thing. In fact... I think I kind of like it.
Brings out my eyes. Heh.

Instead of taking a full shot in the mirror I reversed the phone camera in my
hands to get a better shot of my hair.

- C LI C K -

Yup, definitely blonder than before. It’s not just my imagination, no matter what
Tammy was saying yesterday. Oh well, there’s worse things, I guess.

Oh, and don’t forget to get the full body shot, I reminded myself, stripping off my
underwear and taking one last pic before heading into the shower.
Page 16
 - C LI C K -

“Oh yeah, baby,” I said. “Strike a pose, work it... work it.. Heh. Wait a minute... I
can’t believe I’m staring at a naked pic of myself. So gay. Heh”
I put hair color out of my mind and headed for the shower, scratching my butt.

Thursday, June 17th

As usual, Tammy had gotten up before and headed off to work, while I had slept
in. The day before yesterday she razzed me about how lazy I was, now that I
knew I was going to be rich due to the impending lawsuit, and I responded that,
hey, the very essence of my body was being transformed before our very eyes,
and that can take a lot out of a guy.
Page 17
She hadn’t bought it, of course. And the truth is, I don’t really feel tired, or bad in
any way. At least she admitted she was wrong about my hair color changing. And
the lawyer practically cackled with glee when he saw it.
Damn stuff’s been growing – faster than my hair has ever grown before. I hate
that hippy feeling of having overgrown hair, but the lawyer forbid me from cutting
it, telling me that we could milk it for a bigger settlement, so I’m having to
endure without any haircuts.
I grabbed the camera phone off my dresser and stopped at my bedroom mirror
on the way to the bathroom.
“Holy shit,” I said, looking at myself. “I look like one of the Beatles! If there was a
blond Beatle, I guess.”

- C LI C K -

Page 18
“Man, this sucks. I don’t even like the Beatles.”

I took a few close up shots of just my hair.

- C LI C K -

Page 19
 - C LI C K -

Then, remembering the lawyers admonishments, I stripped off my t-shirt and

underwear to get a shot of myself naked. I didn’t really see the point in it;
obviously the only thing that was changing was my hair. But, oh well.

Page 20
 - C LI C K -

At least I’m still ruggedly handsome where it counts. Even if I do look like the
fifth Beatle. With glow-in-the-dark blond hair. Heh.

Wednesday, June 23rd

Tammy stayed over last night; in anticipation of the business trip she’ll be taking
this weekend. Since she’ll be gone for the next four days and won’t be back until
Sunday, we both wanted to share a little ‘quality time’.

Page 21
When I woke, I could hear my shower running and her humming (and sometimes
singing) snatches of that pop song by Ryan Star that seems to be playing on the
radio a lot lately, ‘Start a Fire’, I think it’s called.

“Here we go, just control and let my body give in,” she sang out, not quite getting
the lyrics right, which of course I found disarmingly adorable, “to the beat of the
rhythm... nah nah nah nah...”

I threw on some jeans, intending to go into the kitchen to make breakfast, but
found myself walking into the bathroom, admiring her curves behind the blurred
glass of the shower door. Seeing my phone on the counter near the sink, I picked
it up and took a quick pic of myself.

- C LI C K -

Page 22
My hair has continued to grow over the past several days at a very quick pace.
Now I look like one of those ‘emo’ douche-bags. Blech.

Whattaya gonna do? I thought, looking at myself. At least Tammy likes it. Who
knew she was into the emo look?

There have been other changes. At first I wasn’t sure, but now I’m confident; my
skin has been changing. It’s softer to the touch and more sensitive too. The hair
on my chest and arms... and really all other places, has simply vanished. Well,
it didn’t exactly vanish, I guess. A lot of it fell out two days ago, which really
alarmed me at first, but then when I realized the hair on my head hadn’t fallen
out, I wasn’t nearly as upset. And if you look really close, I actually do still have
body hair... it’s just very fine and lightened.

I’ve never been a big fan of body hair anyway, honestly. And my tactile senses
have dramatically increased. Sex with Tammy is particularly incredible; my skin
is smooth and alive to her every touch. I also noticed that my calluses have
virtually disappeared, and an old scar that I got from a bike accident when I was
a kid seems to have vanished as well.

Also, I hate shaving, but I hate having a scratchy beard more, so I always put up
with the razor bumps and irritated skin that shaving leaves.

But as of two days ago, no more beard stubble, no more five-o’clock shadow, and
no more need to shave. It’s actually kinda nice.

The lawyer wasn’t much impressed with my new skin, though. He said it wasn’t
that noticeable, and, just because I suddenly have a great complexion, it wouldn’t
be much of a selling point that we should get a larger settlement.

But even if my skin is smooth and responsive, I still have to put up with looking
like an emo douche-bag, at least for now.

Page 23
 - C LI C K -

Blech.

The lawsuit can’t get finished fast enough for me. I can’t wait to get to a barber
and cut it all off. I wonder how I would look with a buzz cut...

“Baby, is that you?” said Tammy from behind the shower glass, then stuck her
head out before I could answer. “Hey, whatcha doing? Trying to get a peepshow?
You perv!” She was giggling.

“Always, baby,” I answered smoothly. “And now if I can just get a candid pic...”

“Forget it!” she said, quickly throwing on a towel.

Page 24
“My baby’s so shy,” I pretended to complain. “Come over here, you.”

- C LI C K -

“Something to remember you by,” I said.

“You’d better not forget me, buster; I’m only going to be gone for four days.”

“And I’ll keep this photo near my heart the whole time,” I said smoothly, “pining
for your return every hour.”

“It’s not a photo, doofus; it’s an image on your phone. How are you going to keep
it near your heart the whole time?”

Page 25
“I’ll have a special shirt made, with a pocket that’s just big enough for my phone
sewed into it just over my heart,” I said.

“Well then, you better not fall on your face or you’ll crack your sternum,” she
answered, chuckling.

“Hey, babe,” I said, pulling her in close. “Seriously. I’ll miss you.” And then I
kissed her.

“Aw,” she said when we came up for air. “You may be a doofus, but you’re an
adorable doofus. And you’re my doofus.” She shot me a worried look. “Maybe I
shouldn’t go. I can call the whole thing off, you know. Stay here with you, and
make sure everything’s okay.”

“Don’t worry about me,” I reassured her. “I’m fine. I’ve got my big boy pants on
and everything. This is an important trip for you and I know that, so get out there
and show the competition who my tough girl is, and may your boss proud and
me prouder, okay?”

“I don’t know, Nicky. All these changes that have been happening to you...”

“Hey, no biggie, baby. My hair changed color and grew a little. There’s worse
things, believe me. And it isn’t even growing that much any more.” (That last
part was a bit of a white lie; my hair was still growing.) “Don’t worry about me;
I’ll be fine. The ‘changes’ are pretty much over, and I’ve never felt healthier. So
let’s get you dressed and to the airport; you’ve got a plane to catch.”

Page 26
Thursday, June 24th

- C LI C K -

Getting sloppy, I guess. Forgot to take a full nude pic of myself yesterday because I
got caught up in taking shots of my hair. And Tammy. Wet from the shower. Oh yeah.
Heh.

Not that I’m all that sure what good this does anyone anyway. At some point I’m
guessing a lot of people will be looking at nude photos of me, and even though I’m not
particularly shy it still creeps me out a little. But the lawyer said to do day-by-day
photo-documents, and I guess the fact that the lawsuit could be worth millions is
reason enough to just do it.

Page 27
Thursday, June 24th, later
Whew, sitting around all day in my PJs and playing video games can sure be tiring.

All day today I’ve felt a little... off. I kept bumping my wrist against the door handles
in my house, almost as if someone came in and raised them to a different height
while I was sleeping last night.

Tammy called a little earlier; her meetings are going well even if the hotel they’ve
booked her at isn’t the greatest. She said the ice machine near her room was on the
fritz and she has to walk two floors down to the next one when she wants ice. I have
no idea why she needs ice, but hey, she’s a chick, who needed to complain, so I made
sympathetic noises and reassured her that the hotel people suck for not having an ice
machine that actually works closer to her.

For the first time since the accident, I actually do feel a little achy and sick. I’ve had
a headache all day and weirdly my nipples are itchy. But it kind of hurts to scratch
them so I’ve been mostly leaving them alone. And not wearing a shirt. And playing
video games. And eating junk food. Heh.

Anyway I’m tired and it’s time to hit the sack. Did I take a nude photo today yet? I
feel a little woozy and fuzzy... fuck it, I’ll just do an extra one to make sure. I’m lazy
and I don’t feel like checking the prior photos.

Page 28
 - C LI C K -

Ah hell. I’m not nude. Forgot I was wearing my jogging pants. I really should take
them off and take another pic, but I’m tired right now. I’ll just lay down for a
minute.

Friday, June 26th

Oh god, I think I’m gonna die. I’ve spent half the night puking my guts out,
miserable. The other half... diarrhea. And as for the other half... nightmares.

Page 29
Can’t think straight. Ah man, my stomach is roiling again. Surely I’ve already
thrown up everything I’ve ever eaten, in my whole life, already. Maybe it’s my
internal organs.

Must make it to the bathroom... Ah, wait, the nausea is subsiding for a moment.
Feel like the room is spinning, and the camera phone comes into focus. I must have
dropped it on the floor. Wait, did I take a pic yet?

- C LI C K -

Damn, still wearing the jogging pants. Screw it; doesn’t matter. Surely the pic will be
worth a thousand words. I’ve never been so sick in my life. Whatever ‘healing’ stuff I
was exposed to isn’t very ‘healing’ to me.

Page 30
Geez, it’s freezing in here. Earlier I was tossing and turning and it felt like I was
burning up.

There’s my sweatshirt. I’ll just pull it on and stumble back to bed.

Ah, another wave of nausea; worse than before. I’m not sure I’m gonna make it to
the toilet before I start puking...

Sunday, June 28th

I was a groaning, moaning mess when I finally came to my senses. More than
half the day was gone by the time I dragged myself out of bed. Wait, make
that more like a day and a half. I realized that I had slept completely through
Saturday, and had no clear recollection of it beyond a hazy picture of feverish
puking and gut-twisting stomach pain.

On the upside, I was feeling better for the first time in a long time. On the
downside, I knew immediately something was very wrong with me.

My body felt... different. Alien.

I nearly stumbled as I pulled myself out of bed. Almost like someone had lowered
the floor by an inch. You know that feeling when you’re walking up the stairs
in the dark and you think there’s seven steps but there’s only six and you try to
climb that phantom stair... and your foot comes down on nothing?

Yeah, a little like that.

I lurched over to the mirror to see the damage, already fearing I knew the worst.

I looked like some wasted and emaciated prison camp survivor. With an emo
haircut. (That much hadn’t changed.)

Page 31
“Oh, shit,” said weakly, stunned by what I was seeing.

- C LI C K -

My clothes seemed a lot bigger on me than they were previously. Or maybe I

was wasting away to nothing. And I felt... my flesh was different. I could feel
swellings on my chest, for example. Almost as if...

In dread I pulled off my sweatshirt.

Page 32
“Oh, shit,” I repeated. Appropriately, I think.

- C LI C K -

I looked like some weird androgynous emo chick/guy. And though they weren’t
big, it looked like I was developing... tits? What the f–?

Another terrible thought gripped me, and I looked down past my newfound
budding breasts to where my much-looser-fitting jogging pants lay. I usually have
morning wood, but I saw no sign of it this morning... nor, even more alarmingly,
could I feel any sign of ‘Mr. Happy’.

Like a man who dreams he’s lost a limb and wakes up to find it is real, I pulled
out the waistband of my jogging pants.
Page 33
“Oh, shit.” It might seem like I was at a loss for words, but I assure you,
Shakespeare himself couldn’t have put it any better.

- C LI C K -

At least my manhood wasn’t gone, as I had feared. But it didn’t look happy, or
very big either. And my hips seemed... wrong. Wider slightly.

Taken as a whole, if my hair was a little longer I could be that weird guy that
from behind looks like an ugly chick. No one likes that guy. Except maybe Steven
Tyler and the weirdoes from Aerosmith. ‘Dude Looks Like A Lady’ indeed.

Page 34
Is my ass... bigger?

- C LI C K -

Maybe not. Maybe so. If it is bigger, I can’t really tell. But I still look like an ugly
chick from behind.

Why the hell am I not screaming right now?

I screamed. It sounded like a little girl on a roller coaster.

Page 35
Sunday, June 28th, later
So one thing I didn’t notice at first is there were, like, thirteen missed calls
from Tammy on my phone. Since I was in the process of nearly dying and going
through radical body and gender changes, I guess I missed her calls.

I listened to all the messages. At first it was ‘Hi, babe, guess I missed you.’ Then
it morphed into ‘WTF? Where are you, buster? You’d better not be out getting in
trouble.’ And then it morphed into ‘I’m really worried; call me back right away
and let me know you’re okay.’

I tried to call her back but there was no answer. I left a message, not too specific,
about exactly what had happened, but that I was in trouble and that major
changes had started to occur and I thought I’d need to see a doctor right away.
I wasn’t sure how to leave a message describing exactly what had happened to
me. ‘Hi honey, I think I’m turning into a transvestite; should be able to make a
few extra dollars cruising the streets for weirdoes and selling blowjobs though.
How was your trip?’ didn’t seem like the best approach.

Turns out the reason I couldn’t immediately reach her was that they make you
turn off your phone when you’re on the airplane. She had cut her trip short (the
business was concluded early anyway and she’s gotten the sale she was after,
contracts all signed and boss all happy – way to go Tammy!) and had been
worried enough about me that she’d purchased a ticket for a different flight back
to get to me sooner. She’d had to take a flight with a connector, and called me
back in between flights, asking what had happened, half furious with me half
worried sick.

I told her that major body changes had started to occur and that I had been sick
and feverish all of yesterday. I apologized for missing her calls and nearly broke
into tears.

Alright, I did break into tears, actually. So did she, and she asked what had
happened. I was so miserable that all I could say was that she’d have to see
it for herself and that I thought I was losing my mind, but it seemed like I had
developed breasts and lost a ton of weight... and even height.

I offered to pick her up at the airport but she nixed that idea right away.

“You stay right where you are. You said yourself you were still feeling woozy
and I don’t want you behind the wheel. Anyway, I drove myself to the airport,
remember? So my own car is there.”

And so I waited for her to get home.

Her look when she caught sight of me after coming in the front door was one of
shock.

“Oh my god, Nicky!” she exclaimed. “You look terrible!”

I was wearing my oversized sweatshirt and jogging pants, so she couldn’t

immediately see the extent of the changes, but it didn’t take her long to hustle
me off to my room and start having me strip down.

Page 36
“This is incredible!” she said. “Let me grab the camera. We’ve got to document
this.”

- C LI C K -

I was definitely shorter than I had been. She seemed nearly as tall as me now.
And miserable and lost as I was, I was actually comforted that she was taking
over.

Page 37
She took pictures of me from several angles.

- C LI C K -

“Those definitely look like prepubescent breasts... actually bigger than

prepubescent,” she said. “And you’ve lost height and muscle mass, for sure. Turn
around.”

Page 38
 - C LI C K -

“Wow, this is incredible. I don’t know what that stuff was that contaminated you
in the accident, but there’s no doubt that it is seriously changing your body. Face
front again.”

Page 39
 - C LI C K -

“Why are you smiling?” I asked, even though she wasn’t really smiling. She just
wasn’t frowning. “Aren’t you freaked out?”

“Of course I am, sweetie. It’s just you remind me of a girl I roomed with in
college. And that’s one thing I never thought I’d say to my boyfriend.”

I was even more miserable at this piece of news. “That’s just great.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” she said. “We’re going to have you checked out with
the doctors, first thing tomorrow. I would take you tonight, but it’s late on a
Sunday and I don’t think an emergency room doctor is going to know what to
make of you. Besides which the preliminary agreement your lawyer struck with
Page 40
Genetacorp has a non-disclosure element, so we can’t just take you to any doctor.
We’ll call the number to the Genetacorp people tomorrow and get you in to see
their doctors tomorrow morning.”

“But didn’t the lawyer say it was better if we didn’t see them? They’ll just want to
run tests and jab me with needles and stuff, and he said we should make them
pay more in the settlement for the rights to examine me and use me as some
kind of human guinea pig.”

She snorted with disgust. “Your lawyer is a slimeball. Look at yourself. This is
serious, and we need experts – people who are familiar with the substance you
were exposed to – to make sure you’re okay. I could care less if that means your
dirt-bag lawyer makes few dollars less. First thing in the morning, we’re headed
to Genetacorp.”

Page 41
Monday, June 29th
“Please, Mr. Grainnes, have a seat.”

- C LI C K -

“Nicky!” my girlfriend scolded me. “What in the world are you doing?”

“Uh...” I said intelligently. “Well, I was just... you know, documenting... I mean,
I thought maybe I should take a shot of the doctor...” My voice trailed off. It had
seemed like a much smarter idea about three seconds ago, before I actually did it.

“Well...” said the doctor, who had introduced himself as Neil Anderson, one of
the bio-science division heads at Genetacorp, “although it was a little startling,
Page 42
I certainly don’t mind. I don’t generally photograph well though, I warn you,
especially not when taken by surprise.” He chuckled. “I hope my eyes weren’t
closed.”
“I’m sorry, Doctor,” said Tammy. “As you can see... things have been changing for
Nicky lately, and we’re very grateful you took the time to see us.”
“Well, in candor, we’re very glad you came in, Mr. Grainnes.”
“Please doc, just call me Nick. Everyone does.” Well, everyone but Tammy, of
course.
The doctor gave me a considered look. “We’ve been very... anxious to get a
chance to see the effects of our... technology... at work. Although preliminary
testing has indicated it should be 100% safe for human use, we hadn’t had
any actual human trials when you were... exposed. I think I speak for all of the
staff here when I say that we’re very glad you came in, and I hope that you’ll
continue to come in so that we can safely monitor any... changes that you may
experience.”
I heaved a sigh, just feeling tired and scared. “I’m not looking to be a guinea pig,
doctor.”
“No,” he said, “I imagine not. But at this point there really isn’t much choice in
the matter. Unfortunately.”
“We’re very worried, Doctor,” Tammy put in. “Nicky’s lost a ton of weight – and
even height, I think... and there have been other physical changes as well.”
I showed him the pictures on my phone, figuring that it would be easier to show
him than to tell him. At the moment, dressed in slightly-oversized sweats that
concealed my newfound curves, I probably looked like a young, androgynous,
slightly wasted boy.
“Hmmm,” the doctor said, as I showed him the pictures of my physical changes.
Not: “My God, this is incredible!”
Not: “This is impossible – what are you trying to pull with these fake photos!”
Not: “Good heavens, we need to rush you to an emergency room at once! It’s
amazing you’re still alive!”
Just: “Hmmm.” In a tone that contained interest but not too much surprise.
This alarmed me.
“You expected this, Doctor?” I demanded.
“No, not at all,” he reassured me. “Well, this was one possibility, of course, but I
didn’t expect this result in particular.”
“What do you mean?” Tammy asked.
The doctor gave me a measuring look. “Mr. Grainnes, you were told what you
were exposed to, weren’t you?”
I shook my head. “Some sort of medicinal compound is all they said. I was told
that it wouldn’t harm me, and if anything would actually make me healthier.
Clearly though this isn’t just some miracle drug – it goes far beyond that.”

Page 43
“Correct. It isn’t a ‘drug’ at all, or any other kind of medical compound. This is
technology on a nano scale. Are you familiar with the term ‘nanites’?”
Oh shit.
“I read my share of science-fiction when I was a kid, Doctor. Are you trying to tell
me there are microscopic robots floating around in my body right now, like a bad
version of ‘Incredible Journey’?”
The Doctor shook his head. “No, the technology is much smaller than that,
actually. And ‘robots’ is misleading, since it is simply programmed biological
material. Altered DNA which carries with it a specific set of instructions to rebuild
damaged tissue in a specific sequence and way.”
“Rebuild?” I asked scornfully. “I wasn’t ‘damaged’ before, but this stuff which is
only supposed to rebuild damaged tissue just made me sicker than I can ever
remember being, and suddenly my body is changing in ways I never would have
wanted!”
He nodded. “Within expected parameters of deviation, the nanites are operating
exactly as we could expect. Let me explain.”
He steepled his fingers. “Genetacorp has always been a large contractor for the
military, and for quite some time now we have devoted a large portion of our
considerable resources towards what we have termed the ‘Immortal Soldier’
program.”
“You mean that this stuff is supposed to turn me into some kind of super-
soldier?” I asked, feeling lost.
“’Immortal’ is not the same thing as ‘invulnerable’, Mr. Grainnes,” the Doctor
said. “The concept was to physically repair casualties among soldiers, to make
them more resistant to injury and to develop a process which would speed
healing exponentially.”
“Soldiers are exposed to incredible physical stress and danger when facing
combat,” he continued. “Highly experienced and trained military personnel –
trained at great expense of the government, I might add – who find themselves
crippled, maimed, dismembered or otherwise damaged in ways that would mean
they could no longer serve or live a normal healthy life, now, with the technology
we were developing here at Genetacorp, could be completely restored to health
and could resume their duties. Although developing the technology cost billions,
it was thought the potential cost savings of being able to retain highly trained and
experienced military personnel who would otherwise have been lost would be
incalculable.”
“I get it, Doc,” I said, “I’ve read enough comic books to have spotted the ‘Captain
America’ storyline. You’re trying to make super soldiers. What I don’t get is why
I’m shrinking, and looking more and more like the sister I never had. If I got hit
with this super serum of yours, shouldn’t I be eight feet tall and bulging with
muscles? I mean, if these nanobots are for soldiers, wouldn’t you, of course,
program the repairs to be the optimum possible? You know, like in that old TV
series, ‘We can build him stronger, faster, better’... or something like that?”
“Again, you have to stop thinking of the nanites as robots. They are programmed
and self-replicating DNA, not miniature artificial intelligence computers. We’re
still hundreds of years from being able to develop that level of technology. And as

Page 44
for what you say about programming repairs to make some sort of genetic super
soldier, we simply don’t yet have that capability, and the reality is that as there
is no pressing need for any such fictitious ‘perfect soldier’ stereotype, it’s unlikely
we ever will develop the technology in that direction.”
“After all,” he continued, “what exactly is the ‘perfect human form’? There’s
simply no such thing. You mentioned an eight foot tall man of profound
musculature, implying superior strength, but such a specimen would hardly
make a good soldier. We aren’t dealing with gladiators here, after all. In modern
warfare such a soldier would simply be a much larger and easier to hit target.
And if he was too large to fit into a tank or a plane, his usefulness would be
extremely limited.”
I considered that. The doctor made sense, I suppose. “Well,” I said, “I guess
there’s always Special Ops, right?”
“Are you referring to covert agents? How exactly would an eight foot tall super
soldier infiltrate an enemy position, or perform undercover intelligence work,
when he would stick out like a sore thumb from all the native population? No, it’s
simply not practical.”
“In any case,” he continued, “we aren’t at that level of technology. We can’t
program our nanites to make such specific changes, and probably won’t be able
to for many years to come. What we can do is take an existing pattern from a
real live human being, complex as it is, and imprint it into the nanites, so that
they replicate that existing pattern.”
“So... you’re copying people?” Tammy asked, not sure she was following.
The doctor shrugged. “In layman’s terms, yes. We are simply making a biological
copy of an existing human, saving it as a template in the nanites, and the nanites
can then implement that pattern into any organic host they are implanted within.”
“Alright, I still don’t get it, even though I’ve been following along pretty closely,”
I said. “I understand you can’t just selectively ‘build’ an eight foot tall super-
strong, super-smart ultra soldier. But if you can copy your templates from existing
people, surely you would just select the biggest, strongest, fastest, smartest,
most physically healthy and fit soldier you already have and use him for a
template. So why on earth am I shrinking and looking more and more like an
adolescent chick?”
The doctor sighed. “Well, the technology is still in its early stages of testing, and
while we may get more funding allocated to it as time goes on and our efforts are
more proven, the reality is that in the beginning we just didn’t have the funding
or authorization to do a scan through the entire human population to find the
‘very best’ specimens.
“Think about it for a moment, Mr. Grainnes,” he continued. “If we approached
you and told you we wanted to use your body as a template because you were
the ‘perfect male’, how much would you sell the rights to your very image and
likeness? And if we used your body template to restore a soldier... well, think
about it. Now there would be more than one of ‘you’ walking around in the
world. How about if there were fifty of you? Suppose one of the people who
shared your likeness – right down to your very DNA – decided to rob a bank?
How would you ever prove that it wasn’t you who did it, but someone else who
looked exactly like you? There are incredible liabilities.”

Page 45
He shook his head. “The short answer to your question, is that we didn’t
have unlimited funding to go out and secure the rights to other people’s body
templates, and there simply weren’t a whole lot of volunteers who were willing to
sell. We took what we could get.”
“And all you could get were adolescent transvestite midgets?” I asked
sarcastically.
“Did you think that only males served in the military, Mr. Grainnes? I assure you,
there are substantial number of females who serve as well.”
I felt a spike of cold fear at his words, already dreading that I knew what was
happening to me.
The doctor opened a drawer in his desk and removed several very thick folders.
“In point of fact, we secured the rights from exactly six different test subjects.
Four males – two of which were caucasian, one of which was of latino descent,
and one of which was negroid – and two females, both caucasian. Each template
cost on the order of a hundred million dollars to secure the rights and develop
the process to imprint and store it in our nanites, so I assure you we chose
carefully. None of the subjects were in poor health. In fact, one of the points of
consideration we used in choosing them was that they were all deemed to be
very physically attractive.”
“When your automobile collided with our delivery truck, Mr. Grainnes, it was not
immediately known whether any of the nanites had been released. The driver
reported the accident immediately, of course, and we dispatched teams to cordon
off the area and take preventative measures. That’s when we discovered the
hairline crack in one of the canisters. The nanites are programmed to self destruct
if they do not come into contact with biological material within thirty seconds – to
prevent the possibility of an ‘outbreak’ of people suddenly changing into one of
the templates. Our driver was under explicit instructions not to leave the cab of
his truck. If you had not exited your car, there would have been zero risk of you
being exposed. I’m sure your lawyer has told you most of this information already,
though until now you’ve had no idea precisely what you’d been exposed to. There
was no reason for us to divulge that information in the early stages, as it was
deemed highly unlikely you had contact with any active nanites.
“Now, of course, we have confirmation that you were exposed, and enough body
changes have occurred that we can very likely identify which one of the nanite
templates you were exposed to. Obviously it was one of the two females, though
I should like to perform a more thorough examination of your exact changes to
determine which of the two.”
I felt like someone had punched me in the gut. After seeing the development of
budding breasts and the softening of my skin, I had, of course, suspected this all
along, but to have it confirmed like this was terrifying and disorienting. “You’re
saying I’m turning into a girl,” I said weakly.
Tammy, who had been holding my hand as the doctor made his pronouncement,
gave me a reassuring squeeze.
“Yes, Mr. Grainnes,” said the doctor, looking uncomfortable. “That is exactly what
I’m saying.”
The rest of the afternoon consisted of a battery of blood tests and measurements.
The doctor took some pictures of me, right there in the laboratory, after having me
Page 46
undress. I was uncomfortable with the idea of baring myself to him but Tammy
reassured me that she would be right beside me through the whole process. I
became conscious of the height I had lost. Standing beside Tammy barefoot while
she was wearing heels, I was definitely a little shorter than her now.

- C LI C K -

I was particularly concerned about my... male parts. My genitalia had shrunken
substantially, at least to my eyes. The doctor offered no reassurance. While he
insisted that I would not lose anything and nothing would ‘drop off,’ he was
equally clear that my penis and testicles (and the accompanying internal organs)
would definitely be transformed over time into a fully functioning set of female
genitalia. The physical change to my body was going to be complete.

Page 47
He informed me that, at my present rate of transformation, it would likely be
several weeks to a month before I had to worry about my male parts turning into
female parts. He also expressed concern, insisting that this stage of development
might potentially be dangerous and should be monitored by the professionals in
his office when it happened. There might be a period of time during which my
penis was being transformed into a clitoris and before the vagina had fully formed
that I might have difficulty urinating (the worst case scenario was that the urethra
might be completely non-functional for several days, during which the inability to
eliminate could cause drastic and life-threatening physical danger to me).
Because of the increased interest and concern with this part of my anatomy he
took a few close-up photos of it as well:

- C LI C K -

Page 48
After what felt like several hours of blood testing, heart monitoring, photographing,
several MRIs and other tests, the doctor announced that he was fairly certain he
knew which of the two female templates I had been exposed to.

Ironically, when he revealed that one of the templates was a blonde and the other
a dark brunette, I realized he had probably known all along. All the needles and
other tests probably had been more for the benefit of his scientific observation of
my changes than to identify exactly what template I was being transformed into.
I wasn’t happy about that, but I didn’t raise too much fuss either. My body was
going through a drastic and complete transformation, and I wanted the doctors
that were monitoring me to have every test they needed to make sure the whole
process was as safe as possible.

He pulled one of the thick folders from the pile on his desk and opened it, not
really letting me see all the contents but describing the woman whose template
I was assuming. I never saw the inside of any of the other five folders, so I have
no idea what the other templates look like, and he also didn’t show me much of
the paperwork in the folder he was holding, but he did pass across five glossy lab
photos of the original woman for me to look at, which I took with trepidation and
regarded with a mixture of fascination and horror. This is the body which I would
transform into. This was my future self.

The doctor introduced her as Test Subject 4, first name Samantha (no last name
was given, and when I asked, he refused to divulge that information, citing an
unbreakable privacy agreement that the company was bound to).

Page 49
All I was told was that ‘Samantha’ was a 20 year old caucasian female, standing
5’1” tall and weighing 105 pounds. You couldn’t tell it from the photos, as they
were taken in a featureless white lab type environment and it was hard to get a
sense of scale, but all I could think of was that she must have been tiny.

Page 50
The woman was very attractive, but the photos were anything but sexy (though
honestly if I weren’t the person this transformation was happening to, despite
how clinical the pictures were I would have still found them vaguely sexy – the
hot blond girl in the photos was very attractive).

Page 51
There were shots of her from the front and either side, to give an idea of her
profile.

Page 52
The fourth shot was of her from behind. Again, the photos were not glamour
shots but the woman definitely had a very attractive body. Nice ass, I found
myself thinking, and then realized that soon now that would be my ass. No, not
nearly as sexy when you thought about it like that.

Page 53
Last of all was a facial close-up. Again. It was pretty neutral and clinical, but the
girl was definitely a cutie. I found myself studying her facial features and wishing
there were more reference photos, but if there were any more the doctor refused
to give them to me.

I did point out that as much as I had changed, I still didn’t look that much like
the girl in the photo, well, aside from developing blonde hair.

The doctor reassured me that as the changes continued, I would look more and
more like her, until my face became an identical twin to the one I was looking at.

Tammy had been by my side during this whole traumatic experience and
revelation, holding my hand and trying to reassure me.

I made a brave show of it at the doctor’s office, but when we got home I
collapsed into a sobbing mess, crying like I never had since I was a young boy.

Page 54
At first I was inconsolable, but Tammy held me and shushed me, eventually
pulling me into her lap on the couch and letting me cry it all out on her shoulder.

At last my sobs died down, and I was able to voice my greatest fear, through
teary eyes. I thanked Tammy for supporting me through all this, but that I knew
she hadn’t signed up for life with a freak.

For the first time throughout all of this, her eyes flashed with real anger. “Freak?”
she asked me.

“Look at me, Tams,” I said dejectedly. “I’m deformed. No one would blame you if
you wanted to call it quits with me now.”

“You are not ‘deformed’, you idiot,” she said sternly in a tone that brooked no
discussion, “you are being changed – against your will – into a lovely young lady.
As far as I know, at least half the human population of the world throughout
history have lived in a similar state, including me. There are certainly worse
fates, so I don’t want to hear any more talk like that out of you from now on.
We’re going to face this thing together, and with positive spirits. Clear?”

“But Tams,” I protested, “you didn’t sign up for any of this, certainly not to end
up in a weird relationship with another woman.”

“I signed up for all of this, you sweet idiot,” she reassured me. “Just last month
we were talking about the possibility of marriage, weren’t we? Have your feelings
suddenly changed for me?”

“Of course not,” I answered, “but you weren’t expecting your boyfriend to
suddenly turn into a girlfriend either.”

She shrugged. “Life happens, babe. Nothing ever goes completely according
to plan. That’s just the way it goes. It’s how we roll with those punches that
matters. What if you’d ended up burned in a fire, or lost your legs in some
accident... Would anything that happened to you physically change the person
you are inside?”

“No, but..”

“But nothing,” she overrode me. “You would still love me, even if something
bad happened to me, because it’s still me inside. And the same goes for you,
you adorable idiot. I’m not running out on you over something as silly as an
unexpected body change.”

I was thrilled to hear these words from her, and vastly relieved and reassured, but
at the same time I was still unsure how this could work. Still, it felt good to hear
her verbally reassure me she wasn’t going anywhere and it definitely eased at
least some of my anxiety over the helpless situation I had found myself in. Inside
I felt better, but I still kept up a pout. “After I change... I’m afraid we can’t ever
be together in the same way again...” I felt myself blushing. “You know what I
mean... as a man loving a woman... sex.” I felt about three feet tall as I said the
last word, feeling vulnerable and anxious and sure she would reject me.

Instead she gave a musical laugh. “No, we can’t be together the same way... but
it doesn’t mean we can’t be together in better ways. I’ve told you before that I

Page 55
had a bi relationship in college, you know, and honestly the sex was one of the
best things about it. Better than straight sex, in some ways...”

“Hey!” I said, acting hurt though I really wasn’t.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, baby,” she said, giggling.

“Not funny,” I pouted, trying not to smile at the unconscious feminine turn of
phrase she had chosen.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about the sex, baby; we’ll be just fine. We’re
getting through this together, because we are together and nothing will stop that
as long as we love each other. And I do love you. Regardless if you are turning
into a hot babe or not.”

“Well I’m not sure why I love you when you make fun of me so much,” I said,
hiding a smile.

“Brat!” she said, and smacked my thigh as I wiggled in her arms.

“Ow, hey!” I said, but she was suddenly kissing me, so tenderly that I instantly
surrendered to her.

“Okay... I guess I do love you too, after all,” I said as we broke the kiss, enjoying
the feeling of being held by her. “Of course. But no more panties jokes, okay? Or
I’ll have to leave you, I’m sure.”

She laughed again and tweaked my nose, making me giggle (and it was definitely
a giggle like a girl would make, not a chuckle like a man would give). “Oh I don’t
know about that. You’re not getting rid of me that easily, you brat. I foresee lots
more panties jokes in your future.”

Despite the whole situation, her positive energy snapped me out of my

depression – if only for a while.

Page 56
Wednesday, July 1st, early morning
I woke with a scream, instantly knowing something was wrong.

Tammy flew out of bed, rubbing sleep out of her eyes, dazed from coming awake
so quickly but alarmed to wakefulness by my unexpected cry. “My god, Nicky,
what’s wrong.”

“Me! I’m what’s wrong!” I cried. “It’s gone!” I already knew it was true.

She fumbled for the lights. “What are you talking... oh. Wow.”

I stood there, naked in our now shared bedroom (Tammy had stayed over every
night since coming back from her trip, insisting she wasn’t leaving me alone
again anytime soon, and we were already figuring out the logistics of moving her
stuff over from her apartment so that we could live together permanently).

“Wow,” she repeated, stunned to see the newest change. “I thought the doctor
said it would take weeks, or even months for that to happen.”

“Damn right he did,” I cried out petulantly somewhere between anger and
despair. “Fucker must have lied!”

With Tammy’s support I had slowly come around to the idea that my fate
was sealed and I was destined to lose my male anatomy and be transformed
completely into a female, but I had at least thought I would have some time to
‘say goodbye’, so to speak. I hadn’t expected an overnight transformation, and I
felt cheated and angry... and humiliated... and vulnerable.

Now that the lights were on I could look down (past my still growing breasts) and
see down between my legs that my penis was entirely gone, and in it’s place was
a little tuft of hair and what surely were the lips of a female vagina.

“Well....” said Tammy, “at least it happened quickly... And you didn’t have to face
any of the dangers the doctors were talking about.”

“It’s not fair,” I said, miserable.

“None of this is fair, babe,” Tammy responded, not unkindly. “Right now I just
want to make sure that you’re okay physically, so let’s put our emotions on hold
for now, okay?”

Like that would be easy to do.

Page 57
“We’ll call the doctor’s later this morning and book an appointment as soon
as they open.” Tammy picked my cellphone up off the bedside table. “In the
meantime, let’s get a few photos, just to document. Either the doctors or the
lawyer could use them. The lawyer, especially. He’s going to have a field day with
this.”

- C LI C K -

“Hmm, the lights not very good in here,” said Tammy. “Let’s go out to the living
room, and I’ll get some better pictures there.”

I let her bustle me out into the living room (which is shared really with the
kitchen in my apartment), and I sat down on the couch. I wasn’t thrilled about

Page 58
this and was still coming to terms with the loss of my manhood, but I knew she
was right – we needed to document this in photos.

- C LI C K -

“Uh.. hey, I wasn’t even ready yet, Tams,” I protested halfheartedly.

Page 59
“Just testing the lighting in here,” she answered, “and it’s much better. Even if
the angle isn’t.” She circled the coffee table and took aim again.

- C LI C K -

Page 60
“This is no time for modesty, babe. Spread your legs.”

- C LI C K -

“That’s it, perfect pose for what we need, to document the latest change, but I
need to get a little closer.”

Page 61
She came around to the near side of the coffee table, sitting down on it to get a
closer shot of my new female equipment.

- C LI C K -

Page 62
“Hmm, better but let me get a little closer,” she mused.

- C LI C K -

“There we go. Check it out babe; I know from personal experience you can’t see
yourself from this angle.”

She held out the phone so I could see the photo she’d just taken. Despite my
dread, I was oddly fascinated.

My pussy, I thought. I have a pussy.

It had a different look to it than my girlfriend’s pussy, which I of course had seen
up close many times in the past. My lips were... less ruffle-y, I guess.

Page 63
Oh man, I don’t even want to keep thinking about this.

“Babe, your face has changed somewhat too. Check it out.”

- C LI C K -

“I think my... breasts... are bigger too,” I said. Let me see the pic–”

Page 64
 - C LI C K -

“Hey!” I protested. “I wasn’t even looking! I thought you were going to show me
the one you took of my face.”
Tammy shrugged, a little smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Well, I
wanted a close up shot. It’s okay that it’s candid.”
“Ugh!” I said, disgusted. “You’ve got me looking off into space. I look like a
zombie or something.”
“It’s not really your expression I’m worried about, silly,” she scolded. “Look at the
contours of your face. It’s changed since yesterday, softened a little.”
Examining the photo with a critical eye, I was forced to agree. “I still don’t look
like the girl in the photos that the doctor showed us though,” I said.
Page 65
“Hmm, that’s true,” said Tammy. “Maybe he was wrong that you’ll turn into an
identical clone of her. Maybe there will be statistical differences, just like in real
life sometimes between twins that don’t look exactly alike.”
“I doubt it,” I answered. “More likely I just haven’t finished transforming yet.”
“Maybe so,” said Tammy. “Now stand up, I want to get a few more shots of you.”
I stood.
“Whoa, you really are shorter than before,” Tammy mentioned, before taking
another shot.

- C LI C K -

“It’s a little cold out here,” I complained. “Did we get enough shots yet?”
Page 66
“A few more,” said Tammy. “Turn around.”

- C LI C K -

“Mmm, well at least you’ve got a nice ass,” she chuckled.

“Not funny,” I said.

Page 67
“Aw baby, don’t be that way. You’re kinda hot, really. Come here, let’s get one
together...”

- C LI C K -

Page 68
Wednesday, July 1st, later
I wasn’t thrilled with it, but over the past several days, and especially with the
rather drastic developments this morning, it was more obvious than ever that my
old clothing would no longer fit me correctly.

I could still ‘fake’ it with jogging pants and a sweatshirt, but my breasts had
grown and defined them to such an extent that Tammy insisted I really needed
the support of a bra. Likewise none of my old underwear would fit, and I
grudgingly gave in to her insistence that I try using a bra and panty set of hers.

“You’ll need to get used to it sooner or later,” she had said, “and while the fit
won’t be precise yet you’ve still probably got some more body changes on the
way, so it doesn’t make sense to go out and buy new clothes yet, at least not
until your body stops changing. And even if my clothes don’t fit exactly right, at
least they are better than nothing.”

Reluctantly I had donned her panties (and they did actually fit rather well, I have
to admit) and after some initial struggles with the bra I had managed to get it on
and fastened, with her instruction and guidance. It was a little bit big for me but
still was a big improvement, and it felt a lot better to have the ‘top’ support it
offered.

“I still don’t see why I have to wear this pink and lacy getup,” I complained. “A
standard white bra and panty would probably be better for me.”

“Granny panties?” said Tammy with a scornful tsk. “No way. You much cuter in
the pink anyway. Good enough that I could eat you all up, Goldilocks.”

“Goldilocks was the girl with the three bears, Tams,” I said, putting on a long-
suffering look. “I think you’re referring to Red Riding Hood. She was the one that
the wolf was always threatening to ‘eat all up’.”

“But you have blonde hair, baby,” she said teasingly, “and you do look good
enough for someone to want to eat you all up.”

Abruptly she snatched up the camera phone. “Time for photo!”

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“Wait–!” I started to say, giving a little shriek

- C LI C K -

“Come on, my sweet sexy girl,” she said laughing. “Turn that frown upside down
and give us smile! After all, pouting gives you wrinkles.”

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“Not funny,” I protested.

- C LI C K -

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Monday, July 16th
The doctors have said I’m healthy and the changes have slowed somewhat. I
know I still have more changes on the way, but it seems like, aside from the fact
my hair has continued to grow, not much has changed lately.

On the one hand, this was a nice reprieve (though it’s not like the damage isn’t
already done, and my male-ness isn’t coming back), but on the other hand, the
slowing in the changes has taken some of the steam out of my main argument
against going out in public – that I don’t have any real clothes for that and I
should bother getting any new clothes if my body is going to keep changing,
since any new clothes we were to buy wouldn’t fit in a few days anyway.

It hasn’t helped that Genetacorp has made a ‘good faith’ payment to me for
allowing them to study me as the changes have taken place – a whopping
$20,000.00, tax free. The lawyer is still pressing the lawsuit and says we’ll end
up with millions once he’s done, but he also said since I’ve been ‘working’ for
them that I can accept the $20,000.00 without damaging the lawsuit. Besides
which, I can’t very well work with my body as it is now – I don’t even have a
valid ID or social security card, at least nothing that would match up to what my
body now looks like (though the lawyer said he’s working on procuring a legal
identity for me).

The bottom line is that although I’ve been very reluctant, Tammy insisted on
taking me out shopping for new clothes today.

New bras and panties are a necessity for my new form (my breasts have
enlarged some and now the hand-me-downs Tammy was providing me don’t
fit nearly as well), but I stuck to my guns and insisted on finding some that
were less feminine. I wanted to go somewhere where I could get some plain old
undergarments, not the lacy lingerie which I had always preferred Tammy wear.

Unfortunately, the first clothing store we went to didn’t really have any non-lacy
underwear. I reluctantly let Tammy and the clothing clerk take my sizes and then,
based on that, chose a few pairs of black and white panties and bras. I was
hoping for something more in the line of ‘basic black’ but there wasn’t much on
offer that didn’t look pretty ‘non basic’ to my inexperienced eye.

Tammy, for her part, seemed to be having a ball, and even startled me in the
dressing room, taking a quick shot of me while I was dressing, pulling back the
curtain and snapping a photo before I even had a chance to shriek.

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 - C LI C K -

She was giggling like a schoolgirl, but I was not amused, and I shoved her out of
the changing room, telling her to go find me some clothes.
“Get me an outfit I can wear with jeans!” I shouted through the curtain.
“I think you would look better in a dress,” she threw over her shoulder, still
giggling, but returned a few minutes later with a collection of tops and jeans.
I wasn’t thrilled with the selection, as even the jeans still looked pretty feminine
to me. But after all I looked pretty feminine no matter what, so I guess it didn’t
matter.
Tammy tried to pull back the curtains again to interrupt me, but this time I was
ready for her and held them closed. By that time even I was laughing a little bit.
Despite my protests, this was more fun than I had expected.
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“C’mon, babe, let me see,” whined Tammy.

“Humph!” I said through the curtain. “You had to choose a pink top? You
scheming vixen!”

“Pink is definitely your color,” she sang out merrily. “Now trot that sexy butt out
here and let me see!”

Hesitantly I opened the curtain.

- C LI C K -

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And so it went. She teased and we joked and I tried on several different outfits
she put together, disagreeing about which ones to buy (mostly she got her way
though). I insisted only on outfits that could be worn with pants and jeans. But
she whined and pleaded and wheedled and begged until I finally agreed to try on
one of the dresses, as well as a matching set of heels, purely out of curiosity on
how well I could pull it off.

- C LI C K -

“I guess this brown one isn’t too horrible,” I said, though looking at the picture
and how feminine I looked I realized I ‘pulled it off’ rather well.

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“A little too ‘earthy’ for your look, babe,” said Tammy, shaking her head. “It’s
okay, but I think we definitely need to get your some other colors, just to round
out the possibilities.”

“We’re not getting any dresses,” I said firmly, putting my foot down. But I didn’t
sound firm; with my new voice I sounded petulant, and Tammy just smiled and
went to fetch some more dresses for me to try on.

“We’ll get some, just in case,” said Tammy, overriding my objections. “You don’t
have to wear them, but you never know when you might need them. To blend in,
I mean.”

I couldn’t think of any situation where I would need a dress. Who needed to
blend in? My lawyer was going to sue the pants off of Genetacorp and then
we would be rich, and I could enjoy life a rich shut-in. No need to ‘blend in’
anywhere.

But Tammy was already in motion, gathering more dresses...

Saturday, August 22nd

More than a month has passed, and I’m reasonably certain all the physical
changes are complete.

The doctors at Genetacorp agree, but they want to continue monitoring me,
which I’m fine with.

At this point I look quite a bit like the girl in the photographs, especially as my
hair has continued to grow out. I was in favor of cutting it, but Tammy overruled
me on the issue, citing the fact the lawyer still hasn’t said it’s okay to cut it. After
all, it’s a pretty striking visible change, to have so much hair grow out so quickly,
and it presents compelling evidence that is likely to make any potential jurors
more sympathetic to my plight (meaning he envisions a bigger settlement).

As far as the settlement itself, the lawyer tells me that he and the representatives
of Genetacorp are getting closer to resolution, and if Tammy and I can just hang
in there for another month or so we should be very happy with the results.
Meantime we’re not doing too badly making that initial $20,000.00 payment
stretch, and Tammy is still working, of course, so it’s not like there’s no food on
the table.

I haven’t always been easy to live with. Thank heaven for Tammy’s patience and
strength to get us through this. She’s been nothing but positive throughout the
whole ordeal.

If I’m honest, my attitude has been less-than-positive. Tammy complains I

never want to leave the house (well, can you blame me?) and that I’m always
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depressed and grouchy (mostly true), and that I never wear any of the clothes
she bought (blatantly untrue; I wear the jeans and a few of the tank tops all the
time... well, at least when I’m not wearing my comfortable sweats).

I admit that I’ve probably been less-than-easy to live with. But hey, I’m the one
who had his whole body changed into an entirely different gender, all because of
a stupid car accident (which was actually my fault, but that’s beside the point) so
I feel indignantly justified in being a little bit hard to live with. (Okay, maybe I’m
just turning into a bitch.)

We fought last night because I wasn’t happy with the dinner that Tammy cooked,
mostly because my taste buds have changed and for some reason I don’t like
pork as much as before.

I hadn’t meant to complain, really, I was just pointing out that it didn’t taste as
good as normal, and Tammy pointed out that she was doing the best she could,
cooking me dinner after being hard at work all day and if I didn’t like it then why
didn’t I feel free to cook dinner for her since I hadn’t been doing anything all day
other than playing video games.

I should have apologized, but I felt put-upon, so instead I had snapped back at
her, “What do I look like, some kind of housewife?” It was the kind of snappy
comeback that I had used all the time to great effect, back when I was the man
of the house.

But things of course have changed, and Tammy said, “You know what, you do
look like a housewife these days! Just take a look at yourself!”

The argument had started in earnest at that point.

It was one of the shorter arguments we’d had, but in this case neither of us
apologized and we went to bed in sullen, resentful silence.

This morning I woke in a much better mood (and maybe feeling a bit chagrined
at the way I had behaved last night).

I slept in (as usual) and Tammy was already gone off to work when I tumbled out
of bed (as usual).

I stopped in front of the mirror, considering myself and the new body that I had.
I had gone to bed wearing one of my old work shirts, but it didn’t look at all
masculine on me. Hell, in some ways I looked like a Penthouse model, playing
coy and wearing her boyfriend’s shirt.

The thought didn’t irritate me as much as it should have, and on impulse I

snatched up the camera phone.

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 - C LI C K -

Heh. Not bad. actually kind of sexy. The hair is loose and tumbling like the girl just
got out of bed... or like she just got fucked... Heh. I just referred to myself as ‘the girl’.
Is that the royal third person?
I regarded myself in the mirror for a moment. It was actually weirdly easier to
think of myself in the third person, as some girl I was seeing in a magazine. But
no, not the royal third person, not for this girl. She looks more like a naughty slut...
Just because I was in a female body didn’t mean I didn’t still have the instincts,
urges and attractions that came with being a man. I hadn’t really been sexually
aroused since the change, and I sure hadn’t been very intimate with Tammy
during the last month (a fact I could sense she was frustrated with) but now that
the changes had stopped, maybe something in my new chemistry had leveled
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out, because I felt the beginning stirrings of lust, just looking at myself. I realized
that I could treat the girl in the mirror like a puppet – make her do whatever I
wanted – and if I thought of her as being a different person, then it started to
become a whole new form of masturbatory fantasy.
“Oh!” I said in a breathy innocent-girl-who-isn’t-innocent voice, “it’s so warm in
here! I think I’ll take this off.”

I coyly unbuttoned my shirt, striking another pose to take another picture of

myself.

- C LI C K -

My left breast was exposed for the shot, showing a very lovely areola and my
hardening and jutting nipple.
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Sexy!

“Alright, little girl,” I said aloud. “Take it off and show me what you’ve got...”

- C LI C K -

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“Work it, you sexy slut!” I barked, then put on a slightly frightened look as I
scurried to obey my own order... then broke out in giggles. This was fun!

- C LI C K -

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I turned, looking over my shoulder and holding up the camera, trying to get a
good angle on a butt shot. “Show that sexy ass, girl!”

- C LI C K -

I examined my photos critically.

Not bad, I thought, but a little boring... just a girl standing in front of a mirror.
I’ve seen plenty of softcore (and not-so-softcore) porn in my life, and looking
around the room decided to incorporate the bed in my little impromptu photo
session.
I chuckled. “You are a very, very naughty girl,” I said aloud, amused at my own
creativity and thinking how to recreate some of those sexy poses I had seen other
girls adopt for photo-shoots.
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I put the camera down for a second, dragged the mirror out away from the wall
and angling it towards the bed.

I took a position on the bed, and grabbed the camera phone again... then, getting
a little erotic thrill out of it, quickly stripped off my panties. Now not only my sexy
tits swung free, but I was completely bare down below as well.

I don’t know why, but a tingly fun-scary-thrilling feeling was shooting through me.
I wasn’t naked where anyone could see me, but in my own house and in my own
bedroom, but I still felt a little vulnerable and exposed, as if I might get caught
doing something naughty. I couldn’t help smiling; it added spice to the fun.

“Ooh, don’t play coy, you bad girl,” I said huskily, “show that sexy body.”

- C LI C K -

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My skin was tingly and aroused... sensitive as I let my fingers stroke languidly
along my flanks, admiring myself in the mirror.

“Such a sexy pose, on her knees... like a submissive horny little slut,” I
murmured, fantasies playing out in my mind in a way that they never had since
my body had undergone the transformation. Granted, I was picturing myself in
the third person and giving myself orders (a fact which I’m certain a psychiatrist
would have had a field day with), but I didn’t care... this was fun, exciting
and for some reason felt just a little dangerous and forbidden. This was way
better than normal porn – this was interactive porn where I got to decide what
happened next.

- C LI C K -

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“Such a dirty girl,” I growled. “Turn around and show me more, you sexy slut.”

- C LI C K -

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“Oooh... I like you on your knees, baby! Show me your sexy pussy,” I
commanded, and put on a properly eager yet sultry look as I repositioned myself
for the next shot. I was getting good at this!

- C LI C K -

I lay back on the bed, reviewing my pictures, breathing a little more heavily, and
idly running my free hand up and down my skin ever so lightly.
“At least I am one sexy babe!” I chuckled. “And as a side benefit, I guess I can
make my own porn, anytime I want.”
There was something sexy about the fact I was doing self-shots. It reminded me
of the kind of pictures that regular girls-next-door put up on their Myspace or
Facebook profiles. Well, of course they weren’t naked, but it was the same general
idea. And it wasn’t really my thing, but I wasn’t unaware of the fact that there
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were tons of naked self-shot pictures on the web. That might even be it’s own
category – ‘self shot’. Usually it was some collection of pictures of a girlfriend/wife
who had sent them to her boyfriend/husband who was away from home.
I always thought the boyfriends/husbands who posted the pics online must have
been scumbags to let something so personal and intimate out onto the worldwide
stage for just anyone to see, but at the same time I hadn’t minded seeing self-
shot pictures of hot naked chicks whenever I had chanced to stumble across one
online. Usually it was some girl in the bathroom, mirror still dirty, striking an
amateur position and unintentionally making a goofy expression.
The thought sent me scurrying to the bathroom, wondering what I would look
like when I tried the same technique. Tammy wasn’t due home for hours yet and
I was all alone... what would the harm be?

- C LI C K -

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Hmmm, kinda dry, I thought. But hey, it’s only a test shot.

I guess I was so absorbed in what I was doing I never heard the front door
closing, or the sound of approaching footsteps.

I turned to the side, striking what I hoped would be a more provocative pose.
“You’re a bad girl, aren’t you? Say it... say you’re a bad girl.”

- C LI C K -

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I turned my back. “Oooh, I’m such a bad girl... let me show you my sexy ass...”

- C LI C K -

“Well, in fairness,” said Tammy, the unexpected sound of her voice nearly giving
me a heart attack, “that is a very sexy ass.”

END OF PART ONE

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