Chapter One

Waiting impatiently inside a small, nondescript room underneath a private medical clinic on the outskirts of the city, 24-year-old Kennedy Masters pondered how much his life had unraveled the last few months. He was once known as the next big thing in investigative journalism, and suddenly, his very life was on the line.

Kennedy was a journalist for the Atlantic City Chronicle, a small city-wide news media company known for publishing conspiratorial stories the larger corporations wouldn’t dare touch. Only three years out of college, the ambitious brunette-haired man was still working his way up the corporate ladder. Still, a small number of hard-hitting articles, particularly one about the misogynistic treatment of female employees on the Boardwalk, had amassed the attention of some significant national print media organizations. Kennedy appeared to have a knack for receiving sensitive information that most journalists could only dream of having, and no one could understand how he did it, not even his colleagues.

Despite the theories surrounding how he obtained his information, the truth was not nearly as conspiratorial. Kennedy had a silver tongue and knew how to talk to women. He lived a bachelor’s lifestyle, using his womanizing skills to identify lonely ladies and extract critical information from them. This tactic had served him well throughout his young professional career.

Kennedy’s last serious relationship was back in college, where he dated a gorgeous and driven brunette named Kayla Connors. She was extremely intelligent and challenged him in a way that no one had been able to before. Unfortunately, she wasn’t as wild as he would have liked in the bedroom, and he started to look for adventure elsewhere. His cheating ways led to a messy breakup, and Kennedy never saw Kayla again once she had transferred to a new college.

Back in the present moment, Kennedy wondered how his current situation may have been entirely different if he hadn’t allowed his wandering eyes to get the better of him back then and if he had settled down into a stable relationship with his former girlfriend. He also worried about Alyssa, his latest conquest, who became entangled in his web of deception, unwittingly filtering through all the information that led him to this moment.

Three months ago, Kennedy was handed a fluff-piece assignment covering the opening of the brand-new Sapphire Falls Casino on the Boardwalk next to Brighton Park. At the grand opening event, Kennedy attempted to land an interview with Vincent Russo, the mysterious patriarch of the Russo Family empire and the owner of Sapphire Falls. Still, his efforts were swatted away at every opportunity. Not all was lost, however, as his attention was drawn to an attractive redhead with the most beautiful sparkling blue eyes he had ever seen. This woman was Alyssa Scaletti, the personal secretary of Vincent Russo, and Kennedy’s brand new pursuit.

Using his charm to land a first date, and a second and third one after that, Kennedy soon discovered just how many damaging secrets the personal secretary had stored in her pretty little head. He made it his mission to coerce her into revealing every single one. It wasn’t long before Kennedy discovered that Mr Russo first met his blond wife, Maria, at a party when she was 18. Despite being 13 years younger than Vincent, he became smitten with her beauty and slept with her the night they met. After their passionate evening, Maria became pregnant with Vincent’s child, angering his father, Carlos. Carlos believed that reputation was everything, and his eldest son and heir to his fortune siring a child out of wedlock would bring shame to his family’s honor.

The elder Russo forced his son to marry the young blond before she gave birth to keep the family’s precious standing intact, and the couple had produced two more sons since. While the story may have been a scandal back then, no one in today’s world would give the story a second glance, so Kennedy kept probing.

It took three further dinners before the industrious journalist managed to compel more worthwhile information from his redheaded date. While Alyssa usually kept her cards close to her chest when work was concerned, she took on an entirely different personality three pornstar martinis later.

It turned out that keeping all this confidential information inside without anyone to talk to was eating away at Alyssa, and she was desperate for an opportunity to unload what she knew. Kennedy had no idea why she had chosen a man she had just met to do so, but he put it down to his charming smile and attentive ear.

Suddenly, Kennedy had enough information not only for the slam dunk story of the year but also enough to have the leader of one of the most powerful crime families put away for a long, long time. She gave up intel on money laundering, people smuggling, extortion, and racketeering, not to mention the murder of at least four missing men. Not only did Alyssa confirm their murder, but she disclosed the location of their buried corpses.

A week later, Kennedy had his career-defining story ready to publish. Still, his editor at the Atlantic City Chronicle pulled the plug, fearing the backlash they would receive. Frustrated, Kennedy eventually sold his story to a rival publication, but his article would never see the light of day.

The day after he traded away his story, he received a knock at his front door, and two intimidating government men greeted him. He was introduced to a local detective for the Atlantic City police department and Special Agent Jason Hawksworth, the FBI’s New Jersey field division leader. He was informed that the FBI had been investigating Vincent Russo for four years, and the information in his unpublished article was enough to put him away. Unaware of precisely what Kennedy was committing himself to, he agreed to assist in the investigation. When Kennedy explained that Alyssa Scaletti was the true source and her testimony would be a greater help, Special Agent Hawksworth revealed, to Kennedy’s horror, that Alyssa had gone missing a week ago. At that moment, Kennedy agreed to testify against the crime boss.

Despite the 37 charges of racketeering, money laundering, people smuggling, and murder, Vincent Russo was granted bail the very next day, pending the commencement of his criminal trial. Kennedy had been assigned two officers charged with his protection once it became clear that the Russo legal team had discovered the identity of the star witness. Throughout his conversations with Special Agent Hawksworth, it became clear that the FBI leader was less perturbed with Kennedy’s safety and wellbeing and more concerned with seeing the case he had spent four long years involved in.

Kennedy turned out to be the FBI’s perfect star witness. He was an only child, and his parents passed away a few years ago after their car collided with a drunk driver, taking his vehicle down the wrong side of the freeway. With no close family, there was no one Vincent Russo and his cronies could intimidate or threaten to convince Kennedy to drop his testimony. He was also ambitious and intent on making a name for himself, something a high-profile trial like this was sure to do.

The seriousness of the situation Kennedy was in dawned on him during a day trip to New York City, with just two months until the trial was due to begin. Enjoying a burger from his favorite cafe in Hell’s Kitchen, he noticed a man dressed in a black hoodie observing him intently a couple of booths over. He subtly tried to get the attention of his two plain-clothed security detail sitting over by the bar, but they were too engaged in conversation to notice his muted signals.

They eventually sprang into action when the hooded man rose to his feet and pulled a pistol up from his lap. He pointed the gun directly at the bewildered Kennedy’s chest before one of the officers charged into him. The shooter managed to pull his trigger, but his aim was redirected, and the stray bullet hit Kennedy in his right shoulder. Kennedy fainted after the attack and woke up in an anonymous private clinic.

❖

Kennedy's mind was brought back to the present when he remembered the horrifying shooting, bringing his left arm up to his shoulder and wincing at the soreness he still felt two weeks later. After being made to wait in this small, barely furnished room inside the clinic's basement for what felt like forever, Special Agent Jason Hawksworth stepped through the door holding two cups of coffee.

He placed a mug on the table in front of Kennedy before taking a seat in the opposite chair, placing his own coffee in front of him. "It's good to see how well you have recovered, Mr Masters. You are incredibly important to us." He broke the silence.

Kennedy rolled his eyes before taking a long sip of his coffee; he knew his testimony was far more valuable to them than he was. "Yes, yes, I know," he replied dismissively. I trust the culprit has been caught?"

The Special Agent pondered momentarily before leaning back on his metal chair. "Yes, he was, Mr Masters. We have been interrogating him for the last two weeks. However, the information we received is not good news for you."

"Tell me then!" Kennedy growled impatiently, slamming his fist on the table and wincing in pain as he exerted his recovering shoulder.

Hawksworth raised an eyebrow but appeared in no hurry to comply with Kennedy's request. Eventually, he spoke. "It appears as though there is a bounty on your head." Kennedy gasped, almost spitting out his coffee as the FBI man lectured. "Vincent Russo does not appear content to deal with you internally and has placed a target on your head to every low-life street gang on the East Coast. You may be the most hunted man in America, Mr. Masters."

Kennedy's brown eyes widened. The calm, monotonous manner in which he has been told that he was as good as a dead man infuriated the journalist even further. "Well, what are we going to do about it? You plan on keeping me here until the trial begins?"

Jason shook his head slowly, "That won't work. While this site is secure, the bounty on your head has stretched too wide, and we don't know who will try to collect." He paused before staring intently into Kennedy's eyes. "Our only option is to hide you in Witness Protection."

The star witness looked at the Special Agent in Charge with puzzlement." Uhm, isn't that what you were already doing with those two bozos following me around?" He shook his head when a sudden wave of dizziness hit him.

"That is true." Special Agent Hawksworth started with a slight grin, "But you are too recognizable now, and it's only a matter of time before someone else comes for you. To ensure your safety, we need a much more…" He paused for effect. "…dramatic transformation."

Kennedy found it increasingly difficult to follow the Special Agent's words; his mind struggled to catch up, and his vision blurred. The young journalist looked down at his half-empty mug. "What did you put in the coffee?" He attempted to appear defiant, but as he tried to stand up, his legs gave out from under him, and he fell onto the cold hard floor. Within seconds, Kennedy's eyes closed, and he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

❖

The final moments before Kennedy passed out flashed through his mind as he began to groggily wake from his enforced sleep. Fluttering his eyelids open, he immediately noticed that something felt wrong. In fact, everything felt wrong.

First, he noticed that he was no longer in the small, dark room he had been drugged in. The ceiling was brilliant white, and the walls were light pastel pink. Judging by the equipment surrounding the bed, he was in a medical recovery room—a distinctly feminine recovery room.

He sat up and saw a glistening pink lock of hair swing past his vision. As he brought his hand up to catch the alien strand, he gasped when his sharp fingernail poked him in the face. Holding his hands up, he stared in horror as the slender fingers and the long, sharp, bright pink stiletto claws extended past each fingernail. “What the…” He paused in disarray when a sexy soprano escaped his lips.

Kennedy needed a mirror, and he threw off the bedsheets covering him, taking a stumble forward when he jumped out of the bed. Looking down, he noticed he was wearing a pale pink top, similar to a pajama top, but what alarmed him were the two obvious basketballs hidden underneath. Feeling dizzy from the whirlwind of emotions running through him, he carefully stepped forward in front of a full-length mirror on the door, and what he saw scared him.

He saw the most stunning caricature of a woman standing in the mirror before him. She had a cute, angelic face with full lips that couldn’t seem to stop pouting. Staring into the girl’s eyes, Kennedy noticed her tiny pupils were overshadowed by the large icy blue iris’ surrounding them. Her cheekbones were high and tinted as if emitting a natural blush. Gobsmacked, Kennedy continued to stare at her features, his eyes lingering on the long, wavy, unnaturally colored candy-pink hair framing her face. No self-respecting woman would ever dye her hair that shade and expect to be taken seriously, but the girl possessed other assets that would make it difficult to be treated earnestly.

Just below her neckline, hidden beneath her top, two large E-cup breasts sat high and proud on her chest. The woman’s short stature and overall body shape made it difficult for Kennedy to believe that the girl’s breasts weren’t surgically upgraded. The young charmer had always had a thing for fake tits, and he felt a subtle warmth concentrate on his ground. Bringing a hand towards his crotch, he stared as the girl’s expressive blue eyes widened when he discovered the void between his legs. Those bastards had taken his cock!

Feeling a sense of loss and anger well up inside him, unable to tear his eyes off the feminine, busty frame in front of him, his thoughts were interrupted when the door suddenly opened, replacing the reflection of the pink-haired girl with a serious-looking Special Agent Hawksworth. “Ahh, good. You’re awake.” He commented as he stood in the doorway.

“What the fuck have you done to me?” Kennedy screamed out with an unfamiliar girly tone to his angry voice before he lunged himself at the FBI agent. Jason appeared ready for the attack and quickly subdued the girl in front of him before pulling out a syringe and stabbing her smooth neck. “I’m sorry I had to do that, but we need to talk.” The tranquilizer was acted quickly, and Kennedy once again fell unconscious before he could get another word out.

❖

Kennedy's eyes fluttered open, and he noticed that he was in the same recovery room, only sitting in a high-back chair this time. The Special Agent sat on the other side of the desk in front of him. The feminized man attempted to lunge forward once again but was surprised to find his feminine arms strapped to the chair's armrests.

"Apologies for the precautions, but we have no time for tantrums now, Mr Masters." Tantrums? He had somehow transformed the journalist into a walking wet dream and then framed Kennedy's reaction as 'tantrums.' Kennedy's desire to kill the cocky agent appeared to grow by the second.

Noticing the angry pink-haired beauty in front of him relent in her struggles to get free, Hawksworth continued. "I understand this may all feel a little extreme, but these are extraordinarily dangerous times, and we needed to take drastic action." None of those words put Kennedy at ease, and his mind wandered from the why to how any of this was possible.

As if he could read Kennedy's mind, Jason began to explain. "The government has access to an entirely useful but perilously dangerous piece of technology called 'DNA Splicing.'" He started, "Now, the intricate details are too complicated for you and me to truly understand, but it basically allows scientists to alter someone's DNA. Not only can they alter a person's physical characteristics, but they can also alter them with visual traits that should never be possible naturally, such as your hair color. That is currently your natural color."

Kennedy noticed a faint smirk briefly appear on Hawksworth's face as if the agent couldn't help but enjoy emasculating him. "Once they have altered the DNA to their liking, they place you through a strange scanner which speeds up the transformation. We have used this technology to send agents undercover before. Still, you are the first civilian to have undergone the procedure and definitely the most dramatic."

Kennedy gasped; it all sounded so far-fetched and unbelievable, except he was living proof that such technology exists. One question continued to swell up inside the feminized man's mind, however. "But why do I look like this? Why couldn't you use the machine to change me into another man?"

Again, Special Agent Hawksworth couldn't hide his slight, insidious grin before taking on a more neutral expression and responding plainly. "Because we needed to be sure that you wouldn't be found. We didn't know how much of you we could alter before you stopped looking like you. So we decided to transform your appearance into the opposite of you, someone no one would ever dare suspect."

While it sounded logical coming from the agent's mouth, Kennedy didn't want to accept that this was him now. How could he go back to working in journalism looking like this? And that brought up another question in his mind. "But this is all reversible, right? I won't look like this forever?"

Jason tried desperately not to laugh at the question coming from the soft, scared soprano voice: "The same technology that transformed you into this shell can transform you back. You may not look exactly as you did before, but close enough." It was the first thing Special Agent Hawksworth had said that put Kennedy at ease. He wouldn't enjoy looking like this pink-haired Barbie doll, but it would ensure his safety, and it was all reversible.

"Now, on to the next bombshell," Jason continued, and Kennedy looked back with a cute, bewildered expression. "We believe this situation has opened up the perfect opportunity." He said matter of factly before throwing a closed FBI file on the table before the girl, with the words' TOP SECRET' emblazoned across the front.

"We have an agent working deep undercover inside the Russo family's inner circle. She has spent three years working this job, and her intel was our biggest chance at bringing down this family until you came along." Kennedy struggled to keep up with Hawksworth's intentions. "We believe a second pair of eyes could help us land convictions not just on Vincent, but his eldest son too, along with his lieutenants."

The FBI agent paused, and Kennedy struggled to connect the dots until alarm bells started ringing in his pretty head. "Wait, you're talking about me?" he asked desperately. "You're smarter than you look," Jason couldn't help but tease back in response before opening the file on the table. You might recognize our undercover agent."

Still strapped to the chair, Kennedy leaned in and let out a soft feminine gasp, staring at the image on the table. Wearing a smart navy blue and white pinstriped suit with a professional navy blue tie, he stared at his ex-girlfriend Kayla Connors looking back at him. The FBI seal was displayed on the wall behind her, and a badge was attached to the suit. She still looked as beautiful as he remembered, with straight, natural brunette hair hugging her shoulders.

"Special Agent Connors was the first to trial our 'DNA Splicing' technology before she went undercover. She only has one contact from inside the bureau, and her commitment to the assignment has already helped us put the Russo Twins, Vincent's two younger sons, behind bars. You may have even walked past her recently and never even recognized her." He lifts her portrait from the file and places it next to the photo underneath, a photo that seemed to both confuse and arouse the bound pink-haired girl.

Staring intensely at both photos, Kennedy noticed the similarities; the size of her nose, the shape of her face, the same eyes staring back at him. However, it was the differences that caught his attention. Whereas Kayla was always proud of her natural blond locks, a mountain of platinum blond hair now framed her face, professional loose curls gave them a dramatic appearance. He wasn't sure if her lips were fuller or if it was the effect of the heavy makeup on her face, but they sure looked kissable. Cheap, bright pink plastic hoop earrings swung freely on each side of her face, and a glittery pink choker was wrapped around her neck. The most significant noticeable difference was the size of her chest. The original Kayla had extremely modest B-cup breasts, but her cleavage now looked at least 3 cup sizes larger, and the glittery pink dress did its best to show off as much of her generous cleavage as she could.

Special Agent Hawksworth interrupted Kennedy's daze when he started speaking again. "You may know the woman on the left as Kayla Connors, but the woman on the right is known as Bella Bianchi. She has been working as Maria Russo’s personal stylist for the last two years. She will be your only point of contact during this assignment."

Kennedy finally peeled his sparkling blue eyes away from the photos on the table and started to understand the implications of Jason's words. "Wait, assignment? That family wants me dead. There is no way I am going in there, especially not looking like this!" He exclaimed, looking down at his own mammoth-sized chest to emphasize his point.

Jason rubbed his full black beard for a moment. "I'm afraid this has come from the top, and they don't exactly take no for an answer." Without waiting for a response, the 45-year-old Special Agent dropped a new folder on the table before standing up. "Inside this folder is everything you need to know about your new identity, along with your new undercover role. I'm going to unbind you now and give you some time to read through the file. I trust you are not going to attack me."

Kennedy meekly nodded, and the Special Agent approached, unbuckling the straps holding the feminized man's arms in place. Once he finished unbinding Kennedy, Jason walked towards the recovery room door. "We are short on time. You have an appointment with the therapist tomorrow and you start your new role on Monday. This door will be locked for your own protection. Press the button near your bed when you get hungry, and a nurse will take your order." Jason nodded professionally, although his eyes lingered on Kennedy's new form a little too long before he turned and left the room, an ominous click indicating the door was locked again.

Left alone, Kennedy placed his hand on the blank file, his gut dropping in anger at the sight of the pink stiletto nails attached to his feminized hands. After a moment of hesitance, he finally lifted the page to discover the new role that had been chosen for him.