In the not too distant future...
“Let me get this straight. You want me to do a gender affirmation surgery for you, but you want it to be… reversible?” The man in the doctor’s coat was looking at the black-haired woman sitting across from him with something between curiosity and disbelief.
“Yes,” she said. “I was assigned male at birth, but as you can see…” she gestured down her body, which was slender but appeared delightfully curved under the plain grey dress she wore. “… I am a woman. I’ve lived as a woman for several years now and I have absolutely no doubt that this is who I am. I would like to make the rest of my body match my actual gender. And you are the best in the world at gender affirmation surgery. Money is no object.” The woman appeared to be no more than thirty, and a very well-kept thirty at that, but she had the bearing of a grand matriarch, confident and powerful.
“I’m very happy for you that you’ve accepted your true self,” said the doctor with all sincerity. “But that doesn’t explain what you mean by ‘making it reversible.’”
“I told you that money is no object,” she replied. “And it isn’t. My family is very, very wealthy and I get access to a trust fund that provides me with more money than I could ever hope to spend.” She paused. “But there’s a catch.”
“I assume that there’s something in the terms of the trust that would be a problem if you actually had the gender affirmation as opposed to… what you are doing now,” replied the doctor.
“Exactly,” she said, nodding her head. Her long, silky black hair flowed around her face when she moved, framing bright blue eyes made up with an expert’s touch and the most expensive cosmetics money could buy. “It’s complicated but, unfortunately, it’s quite legal. Or legal enough, anyway. And one of the terms of the trust is that I can’t use the money from it to challenge the terms of the trust. Some lawyer probably got a bonus for that one.”
“All right,” said the doctor. “But what makes you think I can do a ‘reversible’ affirmation? I think you’ve been reading too many science fiction stories. The only way to ‘reverse’ a gender affirmation is another massive operation on an area already extensively surgically resectioned, with the birth reproductive organs already removed and unavailable for use with the new… configuration.”
The woman just sat and stared at him for a moment before replying. Her voice was steady and purposeful.
“I know, doctor. I am allowed to use the money for things like private detectives and hackers… or shall we say, unorthodox research?”
The doctor returned her stare, but his lips tightened a bit. Her words had obviously found a mark.
“You know what, Ms. Shelley? Whatever you think you know, I won’t be accused of mysterious wrongdoing in my own office. You may leave. Now.” His voice was not quite as steady as hers, but he spoke very firmly.
He stood up and looked at the door, his eyes communicating the demand for her to go as much as his voice. The woman shifted slightly in her chair but made no movement to get up, let alone to leave.
“I know about the… what did you call them? Perma-stem cells. The cells that can reconfigure themselves more or less on demand. I know you’ve tested them extensively and you’ve successfully created tissues that can shift back and forth between two distinct forms.”
The doctor sat back down, heavily, and looked at her with narrowed eyes. He ran a hand through hair that had once been as black as hers, though now it was liberally frosted with silver. Even in defeat he looked strong, the power of his intellect apparent in his blazing green eyes.
“Somebody’s getting sued,” he said reflectively. “But that doesn’t help this situation, does it?”
She smiled, not rudely, but with her feeling of victory apparent.
“No, it doesn’t,” she said. “Those cells are probably worth a Nobel prize, but that’s not what the grant money was for, was it? You reported the experiment you were supposed to be doing as a total failure, what a shame, let’s try again some other time. In the meantime, you came up with the perma-stem cells.”
“Assuming I had done such a thing,” he said, now not quite meeting her eyes, “So what?”
“So, you can use them to do a affirmation surgery that will be reversible at will,” she said matter-of-factly. “If the administrator of the trust ever tries to claim that I’m in violation, I can go to a regular doctor, who doesn’t know what you did, and show him a perfectly normal male body with padding and lipstick. Then go right back to my real body as soon as he’s done.”
The doctor chuckled despite himself when she referred to the… reversibly realigned… body she wanted as her ‘real’ body. Her determination was monumental.
“How serious were you when you said money was no object, Ms. Shelley? Because while I have successfully created stable shifting tissues, entire organs will require a great deal of genetic programming as well as a large amount of the perma-stem cells, which are very difficult to culture.”
“I’ll transfer you a million dollars right now, today, just to start,“ she replied without hesitation. “I’ll provide additional funds as required while you prepare the cells. I can get advances of… well, quite a lot. But keep in mind that unlike the grant provider, I will have people watching you inside and out. Don’t think you’re going to get seven figures out of me only to declare that it won’t work, what a shame, too bad, like you did to them.”
The doctor looked up, eyes drifting, and nodded slowly as he considered the matter. His face went from thoughtful, to doubtful, to sudden epiphany. Focusing on her again, he spoke, slowly at first.
“I… think I see a path forward,” he said. “I… yes. Yes. I can make this work.” He looked at her speculatively, like an expert horse breeder might look at a promising new filly. She ignored the look, and responded only to his words.
“That’s fantastic,” she said, smiling. While her poise remained, the smile transformed her face from that of a young matriarch to something closer to a classic movie star. Her teeth were perfect, her skin luxurious. And despite the accident of birth, her face was exquisitely female. Everything about her was, essentially, the best that money, breeding, and talent could provide. Except for the one thing she actually wanted.
And, now, it seemed like it might finally be within her reach.
Ms. Shelley lay in a hospital bed in Stevenson’s private clinic, wearing only a gown and covered by a thin sheet. The doctor was by her side, holding a marker pen and a medical tablet. She was obviously excited: he was the picture of quiet, just this side of boring, professionalism.
“We are almost ready to proceed,” said the doctor. “The programming completed a few minutes ago, the cells are at the proper stage for transfer. The operation will be in several parts. First, we will remove your birth-assigned tissues as appropriate. Then, as we remove each main area, we will replace the removed tissues with the perma-stem cells, which have been genetically pre-programmed with the configuration of a birth female. Please remove the sheet and the gown, Ms. Shelley.”
The woman threw off the sheet, kicking it to the foot of the bed with impatience. She sat up long enough to undo the ties, then yanked the gown off, throwing it on top of the sheet. The doctor looked her up and down with clinical eyes.
If she had been assigned female at birth, she would have been considered quite tall for a woman. Her body was long and slender, carefully exercised to be toned and trim without bulking up or generating too much testosterone. The estrogen supplements she had taken for quite some time had given her some breast tissue and her male anatomy was… subdued. She was hairless below the neck, which made her soft skin that much more inviting, to a person she might allow to see it.
The doctor, however, did not look like the grateful recipient of a graceful invitation. He looked… hungry. Not sexually, but like a predator, locked onto a compelling prey, almost tense with the anticipation of the struggle.
“Here…” He held up the tablet, which projected a grid onto her body complete with geometric shapes. With the other hand, he traced them with the marker pen. “Here… here… and here.” Four shapes were now outlined in precise black lines, one around each breast, one around her male anatomy, and one… around a small area at the base of her skull. She turned her head, eyes wide, to let him draw it, but then looked at him with confusion.
“What’s the one on my head for?” she asked with surprise.
“To sustain the tissues and support their quick state transition, a small adjustment must also be made to the pituitary gland so that your testosterone levels are in line with your current… configuration,” he answered patiently. “I will do this endoscopically. You will hardly notice the incision.”
“All right,” she said. “That will reverse like the rest?”
“Yes and no,” he said. “It won’t reverse, exactly, not like the gross anatomy here…” He gestured toward her chest and then her crotch. “… but it will ‘know’ which configuration you are in and regulate hormonal output accordingly.”
“That’s amazing,” she said, eyes wide.
“It is necessary,” he said. “Without bodywide hormonal compliance with the current configuration, you would be unable to maintain homeostasis and the changes would be unstable over the long term. I have modeled this extensively. If anything, more completely than I modeled the gross anatomy configurations. Those are, in a sense, much simpler - merely turning the clock back, and then running it forward again, so to speak, but in AM instead of PM.”
“Will it hurt?” she asked. There was no fear in her voice.
“As I have told you before,” he replied patiently, “None of the test subjects has ever evinced any pain, though they do appear to experience some discomfort when the process begins. I do not believe it will hurt.”
“I just wanted to hear it again,” she said, and though there had been no fear, there was a hint of relief. “How long do you think transitions will take?”
“My latest modeling indicates that the new genetic programming will be extremely effective. Literally a matter of minutes, though you should not make transitions in quick succession unless you have eaten heartily and had a chance to digest some food first. It will be quite energy intensive and use a lot of nutrients. During the operation we will be giving you concentrated nutrients by IV which should sustain the initial healing and any post-operative confirmation reviews.”
The movie-star smile reappeared on her face. “That’s fantastic,” she said. “If I ever have to… pass an inspection…” Her mouth quirked with distaste for a fraction of a second. “… I can do it, treat myself to a nice dinner, and then change back.”
“That should work well,” he said. “The initiator of the change will be a small pill you put under your tongue. It does not contain drugs, as such, merely a protein molecule that initiates the change cascade. If anyone else were to take one, it would have absolutely no effect, and if anyone were to analyze one, it would appear to be nothing more than a placebo.” He put the tablet down, and pulled two bottles out of his pocket. “I apologize for the cliché,” he said, sounding like an actual human rather than a medical robot for the first time, “But pink is for the female configuration, and blue is for the male.” He smiled and put the bottles back in his pocket.
A rich laugh, only slightly deeper than one would have expected, met this revelation. “That’s quite all right,” she said, “Sometimes a good stereotype can be helpful.”
“I am glad to hear that,” he responded. “Are you ready?”
She took a deep breath.
Ms. Shelly once more lay in a hospital bed, smiling broadly at a nurse who was removing an IV from her arm.
“That should do it,” said the nurse soothingly. “Doctor Stevenson will be in shortly to give you a final examination, and then you’ll be released.”
“Thank you,” said the smiling woman. “The staff here is wonderful.”
“I’m happy to hear that,” said the nurse, returning the grin. “Take care, now.” And then she was gone.
She lay in her bed, practically vibrating with happiness and excitement, until the doctor appeared. He said, “Hello,” and shut the door with a click before approaching the bed.
“Hello, Doctor,” said the patient. “I feel amazing. It really doesn’t hurt anywhere at all.”
He looked at the medical tablet at her bedside, nodding but not responding immediately.
“Vitals good… no inflammation… no rejection precursors…” Stevenson looked up to meet her eyes. “And I’m glad it doesn’t hurt. I didn’t expect it to: stem cells are marvelously adaptive and don’t so much heal in place as just merge with the existing tissue.”
“So… it worked?” asked the black-haired woman breathlessly. She had not acted to move the sheet and gown since she awoke from surgery, at the doctor’s strict orders. It felt different. Very different. But she had not seen. She had not touched. And she needed to so very, very badly.
“Let’s find out,” he said, but there was no doubt in his words, only humor.
He snapped on a pair of gloves, then pulled the sheet down and then lifted the gown off Ms. Shelly. This time it was not tied so it simply came away, revealing her body once more. Her body. Physically, she was now completely… whole.
Rounded breasts tipped with small, dark nipples protruded from her chest. In the cool of the room, they were tight and hard. The doctor gently examined them, squeezing and testing the resilience of the flesh. Ms. Shelly made a small noise.
“Is this all right, Ms. Shelly?” said the doctor. “Any discomfort?”
“No,” she said, almost too quickly. “Just… sensitive.”
The doctor lightly tweaked one stiff nipple and Ms. Shelly shuddered. “Is it painful?”
“Noooo…” she said, then shook her head. “I mean, no, it’s fine. I just didn’t expect it to feel… like that.”
“Good. Moving on.” The doctor sidestepped so he was level with her waist, then gently put his hands on her knees. “I am going to move your thighs apart so I can observe the way your skin moves, all right?”
“All right,” said Ms. Shelley, her voice a little uneven but her face still composed.
Doctor Stevenson gently pressed on her knees and slowly, so slowly, her thighs separated. Instead of the… pulling… sensation that she would have experienced before as the skin stretched, there was a feeling of… opening. She looked down and gasped as the hairless slit between her legs spread apart. Her clit was quite prominent, and her labia were thick and full, darker than the surrounding skin.
“As you can see, your genitalia are somewhat… pronounced,” said the doctor matter-of-factly. “This is to provide a little more tissue for the body to work with during transitions. I’m going to examine the structure now, all right?”
It took a second for her to realize he had asked her a question, so absorbed was she in the sight of her now… properly configured… body. “Yes,” she said hesitantly. Then her voice firmed. “I mean, of course, doctor.”
There was a tube of lubricant on the bedside tray: the doctor picked it up and then gently applied a small amount to her labia. She gasped at the feeling of the cool gel, but the doctor did not seem to notice. He put some on the fingers of his right hand and spread it out carefully. Then he lowered his hand between her legs.
“Take a deep breath in and let it out,” he said gently. She complied. As she let out the breath, he slowly worked a finger between her lower lips and slid it in a tiny bit.
This time, she gasped so loud the doctor could not ignore it.
“Is that painful?” he asked,” holding absolutely still.
“Noooo…” she said, her voice low and breathy. “It… it’s very sensitive. It feels… pleasant.”
“I am very glad to hear that,” said the doctor, letting some pride slip into his clinical demeanor. “Another breath, please.”
This time, he was a little more forceful, and his finger slipped nearly all the way in as she exhaled. Her breath became a very, very quiet moan. Then he started to gently turn his finger, pressing at various places inside her, and she groaned, feeling her face start to redden.
“There is no need to be embarrassed,” he said, looking at what he was doing, not at her wide-eyed face. “The genitalia of females is much more sensitive than that of males, for the most part, and I’m sure this is a little overwhelming.”
“Thank… thank you, doctor…” she said gratefully. “It is. It’s… it’s like seeing a rainbow for the first time after only ever seeing things in black and white.”
“Then so far, so good,” he said, and there was something new in his voice. Almost… amusement. “Let’s see about the most sensitive part, shall we?” This time, he did not wait for her assent. He simply reached down with his other hand and stroked her clit.
She jumped and let out a sound somewhere between a quiet yelp and a loud moan. Her eyes had rolled up in her head for an instant and her jaw fell open briefly before she regained control of her expression.
“I see it also came out well,” he said, looking up at her flushed face. “Or was that uncomfortable?”
“No, it wasn’t,” she said with a sharply drawn breath. “It is also very… sensitive.”
He flicked her clit with his thumb again, and she shuddered, sucking air between her teeth.
“Excellent. We might as well test it thoroughly.” Before she could speak again, he started rubbing her clit with a circular motion. His finger started moving in and out of her, stroking and pushing at places she hadn’t known she had. Places she hadn’t had, yesterday. But he seemed intimately familiar with them.
“Ohhhh… Doctor… what are you… you can’t…” She found it very hard to speak. Her whole body was tensing up. She had had orgasms before, of course, but just the buildup was a hundred times more intense than anything she had ever experienced.
“I can,” he said, watching her face. “I’m very good at this. And it’s necessary.” He pressed a little harder and she gasped, her body tensing so hard it pushed her back into the bed.
“Why is it… nece… oh, God… why is it necessary… I didn’t… I won’t…” The words simply would not come out smoothly. All of the decorum, the iron will, the determination, was melting like an ice cube in the sun as the feelings overwhelmed her.
“Well, first, we have to make sure everything works the way it should,” he said, more amusement working into his tone. “Second, we need an orgasm to lock in the secondary cascade process.”
“Secondary… what?” she gasped. “I don’t… you never…”
“I know,” he said. “It must have slipped my mind, what with some entitled rich bitch blackmailing me into performing experimental surgery on them. Makes it hard to remember everything.”
Ms. Shelly managed to focus on his face for a moment. Her voice strengthened somewhat, though she still couldn’t make her limbs obey her. “What… what have you done to me.”
“What you asked for,” he said, and then started rubbing and stroking faster. “I made you a real little girl, Pinocchio. But in this story, you’ll stay a puppet.”
She gasped, first in horror, then in helpless arousal. She was so sensitive… and his hands were so good. Desperately, she lifted her arms to try to push him away, but she simply had no strength. When she let them fall to her sides again something… bloomed… between her legs and she cried out in helpless, doomed pleasure. Stars filled her vision and her whole body convulsed, shaking as if she were being electrocuted.
“There we go…” said Doctor Stevenson. “Not bad for a first time.” She lay there, panting, her body completely limp. Before she could do anything, before she could think, he yanked off his gloves and pulled a syringe out of his pocket. He popped the cover off and revealed that it had no needle, only a dispenser tip.
Then he put it up to her wide-open mouth and squirted the contents into the back of her throat, quick as thought. The second it was done, he covered her mouth with one hand and pinched her nose shut with the other.
“Swallow,” he said in a firm, almost menacing voice.
She writhed, her arms rising weakly to try to batter herself free. The liquid in her mouth was cool and slimy, with an odd chemical taste. But it was somehow familiar to her. Her eyes grew even wider when she realized what it was.
It was semen.
He had squirted semen into her mouth.
“Swallow it,” he ordered. “I won’t let you breathe until you swallow it, and I have more if you don’t. I’ll put a tube down your nose if I have to but you’re going to swallow it.”
The world was getting dim and she realized that she could not win this struggle. She swallowed and felt the slimy fluid go down her throat. He felt it and released her immediately, glancing at his watch as he stepped back. She panted for breath.
“I gave you a little extra muscle relaxer right before you woke up,” he said, watching her breathe. “That’s why you’re so weak. It’ll wear off.”
“Why?” she said once she had caught her breath. Nothing more. Just that one word.
“Everything has a price, Ms. Shelley,” her said, an evil and somewhat frightening smile on his face. “Your money paid for the surgery. But now you have to pay for what you did. You spied on me. You blackmailed me. You made me risk everything I worked for.”
“I would have paid you more…” she started to say.
“You can’t buy things like that with money,” he said impatiently. “The price for this is your body. The body I gave you.”
“What?” she said in horror. “Are you going to rape me? Is that what this is all about? Just another male power trip?”
“Not just another male power trip,” he said, undisturbed by her disgust. “My male power trip. And no, I’m not going to rape you. As the old saying goes, you can’t rape the willing.” He gave her a truly nasty smile. She looked at him in sick disbelief.
“I will never, ever be willing to have sex with you,” she said, looking like she was about to vomit. “I’m going to report you for…”
“For what? For performing experimental surgery on you because you threatened to report me for misappropriation? That’s called extortion, my dear girl, and it’s also illegal. Besides, suppose you do report me? Suppose I get thrown in prison. Then you are, as the saying goes, shit out of luck.” He looked very, very satisfied as he spoke these words. It almost felt as if he had rehearsed them.
“What the Hell are you talking about? What do I care if you go to prison?” She felt the unfamiliar sensation of fear rising in her. Before, when he had forced her to come, she had felt a spike of adrenaline, but it had been over too fast for her to really understand what was going on. Now something dark and horrible seemed to be looming over her, growing with every sentence she heard. All her money and all her poise and all her self-control were useless.
“If I’m in prison, I can’t fuck you,” he said with dark glee. “And trust me, you will soon care about that very, very much.”
“You’re insane,” she said, shuddering. She was trying not to think about the heat which lingered between her thighs… and didn’t seem to be going away.
“‘Fools! I’ll show them. I’ll show them all!’” he said in an amused voice. “I think that’s the traditional response to being called a mad scientist. But who is the fool who demanded I work my dark arts on her body, Claire?” He had never used her first name before, though obviously he knew it, and she looked at him with confusion as well as fear.
“Your surgery is complete. You are no longer Ms. Shelley, my patient. You are now just Claire, my helpless toy.” He looked at his watch again. “Shouldn’t be much longer.”
“I am nobody’s toy, make no mistake. And much longer for what?” she asked him. “Have you sabotaged me somehow? Am I going to go back to my old body, you bastard?”
“Not at all,” he said. “You can’t and won’t do that without a cascade initiator. I promised you it would work like that, and I am a man of my word. Besides, this wasn’t all bad. Someday, this technique will help millions of people, including other trans people who aren’t blackmailing bitches, and if you want to volunteer to be the first test subject, better you than them.”
After he finished speaking, he looked between her legs again. She’d been so overwhelmed by what was happening she’d sort of lost track of the fact that she was still naked, and had to fight the urge to cover herself like a cowering schoolgirl. Following his eyes with her own, she pulled in a sharp breath.
Her pussy was… swelling.
It still looked like an assigned-female pussy, but her clit was, she abruptly realized, painfully erect. Her labia were swollen and dark, and now that she was paying attention she could feel that she was… oozing. The sensation of producing her own lubricant, of feeling it dripping down between the swollen lips, was suddenly overwhelming. In a single breath, she felt… empty. So empty it was nearly painful.
Claire looked at Doctor Stevenson with horrified realization.
“Feeling needy, Claire?” he asked with a grin. “Something you wanted?”
“Fine,” she said between tight lips. “You’ve made me horny. You think you’ve got the only cock in the world? You don’t think I have toys? You don’t think I have fingers?”
“Of course,” he said, still grinning. “But go ahead. Try to take care of it. Here, I’ll turn around.” He did just that, stepping away from the bed
She just stared at his back, eyes wide and mouth slack. The sheer surrealism of the situation nearly overwhelmed her. But after several breaths, she winced as a… twinge… of need flowed through her pussy, up her spine, and directly into her brain.
Without conscious thought, her hand slipped between her thighs and massaged her outer lips. She felt clumsy for a moment. Stevenson was a surgeon and, presumably, a very experienced heterosexual lover. In the battle between the sexes, his fingers were deadly weapons. But she was so sensitive and so turned on that just rubbing and slipping her fingers around and stroking… she felt herself respond almost as powerfully.
Slipping a finger inside herself made a bolt of lightning run up her spine. She couldn’t make herself stop. Moving her finger in and out as fast as she could, she let out a long, low groan, seeking out all those places he had so sweetly tormented just minutes ago. Then she touched her clit with her other hand and just… like… that… she came.
This time, she screamed.
She couldn’t help it. It was too much, just too much. Far in the back of her head she thanked God for the miraculous recovery speed of Stevenson’s perma-stem cells, because she could not stop. Her hands ached with the tension of touching herself. Only after two more orgasms had ripped through her - and wasn’t that another new experience - could she even think about slowing down.
Finally, she lay there, spent and flushed, sweating and sticky. Stevenson, who had been waiting patiently, turned around and said, “That sounded pretty nice. How was it, Claire?”
“It wasn’t bad,” she said weakly. “I told you I could…”
Claire shuddered and her face tightened.
Another twinge, just like before, had just flowed through her pussy.
“Ah, there it is,” he said. “I would have told you, but some things you have to see for yourself.”
“What did you do to me?” she said in a breathless whisper.
“Secondary cascade,” he said matter-of-factly. “When you transition to this configuration, you will shortly start to become very, very aroused. And there’s only one thing that will make it stop.”
“What did you do to me?” Claire repeated, dreading the answer.
“I have to fuck you,” he said, his eyes fixed on hers, savoring her terror. “I have to fuck you and I have to come in your pussy. If my semen is exposed to air for even a second, it won’t work.”
“You bastard,” she said.
“Probably,” he replied, unfazed. “Although maybe you should try ‘Master’ instead.’”
“Fuck you,” she said viciously. Her cool decorum was washed away by a sudden wave of hate. “I’ll die before I call you that. Or fuck you.”
“We’ll see,” he said. “How are you feeling down there?”
When he said it, she lost her focus. And when she lost it, the feelings rushed in, stronger than before. Much stronger. She realized with a shock that it had been less than a minute but the ache was already far, far worse than it had been. If anything it felt like the orgasm had actually made things worse.
“In five minutes you’ll be crying,” he said with quiet satisfaction. “In ten you’ll be screaming. And in fifteen, you’ll be a howling, begging animal in heat. There is no escape, Claire.”
The look on her face said she wanted to fight. But another twinge, another gasp, another shudder, and she was undone.
“Please…” she whispered.
“Please what, Claire?” he said.
“Please… fuck me,” she said, almost too low to hear. He appeared to consider her request, then shook his head.
“No,” he said, as if she had asked him if he’d like a cup of coffee when he’d already had two.
“What do you mean, no?” she said with surprise. “I thought this is what you wanted.”
“Oh, I want to fuck you,” he said. “But you need to do better than that. Let’s hear you beg.”
She took a long, slow breath and promised herself that one day she’d kill him.
“Please fuck me,” she said, in a long, breathy growl. “I want it.”
“Terrible,” he said in the same mildly disinterested voice. Her jaw dropped. Again.
“What do you mean terrible?” she asked. “I mean it. I want you to fuck me!”
“I know you want me to fuck you,” he said. “But you’re not really selling what’s in it for me.”
“You get to fuck me!” she almost screamed.
“Look at me, Claire,” he said in an annoyingly calm voice. “I’m handsome, I’m distinguished, I’m rich, I do plastic surgery for celebrities. If I go down and stand in the lobby for five minutes, women will literally throw themselves at me. I am hardly impressed because you can do a sexy voice. Try again.”
Desperation burst inside her. Or perhaps it was just another twinge of unbearably sweet torment. She opened her mouth and was stunned at what poured out.
“Fuck me, you bastard. Take out your cock and shove it up my tight, brand new cunt! I want to feel you stick your hard dick up my pussy and make me scream. Turn me into your own personal fucktoy and fill me so full of your cream it drips out of me.” She put her hands on her chest and lifted her supple new breasts, pinching the nipples so hard it made her head swim. “Look at these tits, they’re perfect. Come and play with them, suck them, squeeze them, bite my nipples, make me come all over your cock until I can’t even talk. I’ll do anything. Just let me have your fucking dick, you fucker!”
“Now that was impressive,” said Stevenson, eyes wide with surprise. “But are you sure you want me to fuck you?”
“YES!” she screamed in frustration. “Jesus, what is wrong with you? Get over here and fuck the shit out of me!” Claire started fingering her pussy while she stared at him, eyes full of lust and hate.
“Talked me into it,” he said, and started undressing. He took his time and all she could do was watch as his muscular body emerged piece by piece from his expensive clothes. By the time his very nice, very erect cock emerged, she was drooling and it was starting to feel like there was a puddle under her ass.
Stevenson walked over and lowered the bed so she was laying flat, and then climbed in, between her legs. She was utterly hypnotized by the hard cock swaying between them as he lowered himself toward her. He just looked down and admired his handiwork for several seconds and she writhed with frustration. Then he lowered his head and started licking and sucking one of her nipples.
Just like that, out of nowhere, that explosion happened in her head again, nearly as strong as when he had been stroking her clit. She wailed and put her arms around his head, pulling him to her breast. He bit down gently and she shivered. The orgasm eased her need for a few blissful seconds, and then it came back stronger than before.
“FUCK me!” she screamed.
“If you insist,” he said, lifting his lips just enough to answer her. He lined up his cock with her wet, swollen, aching pussy and teased her with the tip. She bucked, moaning and gasping and pleading without words. Then with one slow, firm, unstoppable thrust he buried his entire length in her virgin pussy.
Claire screamed so hard it hurt her throat.
Or it would have, if she could have felt anything besides the supernova that had exploded between her legs. Heat and pleasure flowed over her whole body, irresistible storm waves pounding into her, stealing her words, her breath, her thoughts. She had never felt anything like it. She had never imagined anything like it.
“I’ve… been looking forward… to this…” rasped out Stevenson. Claire could barely understand him. “Next time… longer… but this time… your lesson.” He thrust into her again, once, twice, three times, kissing her amazing new breasts, biting her neck, claiming her completely. The pleasure continued to overwhelm her, she could only endure.
Then she felt him swell within her and something hot and slippery, thicker than her own juices, filled her. Another wave of orgasm crashed over her and she shuddered and wept, utterly losing the ability to even think for an endless moment.
When it had passed, she opened her eyes and looked up into his. He was smiling at her quite pleasantly. She smiled back for a moment before remembering what had happened. Then she snarled and bucked beneath him.
“Get off me you rapist bastard,” she growled. “Get away from me before I claw your eyes out.”
“Temper, temper, Claire,” he said teasingly. But he did lift off her quite quickly, rising to his knees and looking down. “Wow. I’d call that a complete success. That was the wettest, hottest pussy I’ve ever felt in my life. And it sounded like it was good for you, too.”
“It felt good, and you know it,” she hissed. “But you know I didn’t do it because I wanted to. You made me do it.”
“And now you know how it feels,” he said, smiling. “I’m glad you liked it, but don’t get too comfortable just yet.”
Claire’s heart leapt up into her throat. “Now what have you done?” she said furiously.
“Cascade initiator,” he said. “Any minute n…”
A great shuddering gasp forced itself out of Claire’s lips, cutting him off.
“Wow. That was quick,” he said.
“What? What did you do?” she moaned, sounding like she was about to cry. Her whole body was twitching, her hips bucking as if her thighs were cramping terribly. She looked down and this time her scream was one of absolute terror.
Her new pussy was… closing.
The lips were fusing together, and the clit was swelling and shifting. It didn’t hurt, exactly, but it felt like nothing ever ought to feel. Her skin was crawling and she gagged a little, her stomach rebelling at the sight and the feeling of her body reconfiguring itself before her eyes. Claire forced herself to breathe deeply and try to pretend it was happening to someone else.
The thick, fleshy lips of her pussy… melded and grew into the bump of her clit, and after only a few minutes she could see her familiar, hated assigned-male genitalia beginning to reform. At the same time, her beautiful new breasts flattened and the nipples shrank, becoming the slightly-swollen male chest she remembered with loathing.
When it was done she looked up at Stevenson, who was sitting on the end of the bed watching with fascination, and wished him dead with more pure hatred than she had ever felt for another human being.
“What a face,” he said, chuckling. “I mean you wanted it reversible. It’s reversible.”
“Not. Like. This,” grated Claire. “If every time I transition, I have to fuck you, and every time I fuck you, I de-transition, what is the fucking point, you sadistic bastard?”
“Well, good news and bad news on that, Claire,” he said with that horrible smile. “The bad news is, you’re right. If you use the pills, that’s exactly what will happen. You’ll keep your new body just long enough to fuck yourself out of it. But the good news is, there’s another way to initiate the cascade, and it works differently.”
“What’s that?” she asked, seething.
“Simple. My cum in your pussy, your pussy goes away. My cum in your mouth, your pussy comes back. Elegant, isn’t it?”
Claire just stared at him in shock.
“And here’s the really good part. If I come in your mouth and that makes you transition, you won’t get horny again right away! It’ll take much longer.” He smiled at her as if he expected praise for his genius and generosity.
“How long is much longer?” she asked, not sounding at all impressed with his genius and generosity.
“Not sure. It’ll vary according to a few different things. But a day or two, for sure. Maybe three or even four.” He winked at her. “You’ll be able to take a long weekend once in a while.”
“You bastard. So now my new body’s a hostage? I don’t suck your cock, I stay like this?” She wanted to kill him but she was terrified of so much as letting him leave the room. Even the brief minutes her affirmed body had been hers were precious as gold to her. She couldn’t give it up.
“Well, lucky for you I’m only mostly straight,” he said with a shrug. “You’re still very attractive to me, even with an outie. But no, that’s not quite accurate, I’m sorry to say.”
“Then what?” she snapped at him.
“If you don’t get some of my cum, fresh from the source, within about the same time period, the same thing will happen,” he replied. “You’ll get hornier and hornier, and no matter how hard or how many times you come, you won’t be able to stop. Eventually you’ll probably have a heart attack or a stroke.”
“You’re a monster,” she said, shaking her head with disbelief.
“You started it, I finished it, Claire. Maybe you should have thought about how smart it actually was to blackmail someone who can literally reprogram your body.” He looked at her and chuckled. “All those brains, all that money, and you still ended up a helpless little toy. In fact, I think I’ll show you another of my little improvements. Make yourself come.”
“Fuck you,” she said viciously. “I’m not touching that. You do it if you think I’m hot this way.”
“Claire, make yourself come or I will walk out of this room and you will never see me again,” he responded in that infuriatingly calm voice.
With a frustrated cry, Claire reached down and touched her cock. It was relatively small, but it worked fine, and it was still sensitive after everything it had just gone through. She closed her eyes and thought about the feeling of Stevenson’s dick inside her. Much as she hated him that had still been the best thing she had ever felt. Not only the pleasure, but the feeling of wholeness. Even what he had done to her couldn’t entirely take away the joy she had felt for those few precious moments. Within a few minutes she felt herself fall over the edge and a truly pitiful orgasm flashed through her, a wet firecracker compared to the hydrogen bomb that was being fucked in her actual pussy.
A surprisingly thick load of cum spurted out of her as she climaxed. She looked down with faint disgust at the sticky mess flowing over her hand.
“Excellent. Now rub that on your breasts,” said Stevenson. She looked at him in disbelief. “Do it,” he said firmly.
With a slightly sick expression, she lifted her hands and transferred the cum to her fingertips. Then she rubbed it into her breasts, wincing at the slimy feeling and the sharp, bleach-like scent of the semen as it soaked into her skin.
Then she gasped in surprise once more.
A sudden gentle heat filled her chest. She looked down and saw her breasts begin to swell, the nipples darkening and hardening as they grew. Waves of strange pleasure flowed over her once more as her body did the impossible. In less than a minute, they were the same size they had been before Stevenson had filled her with his cum and undone all her hopes and dreams.
But then they kept growing.
The nipples grew thicker and longer, protruding until they were more than an inch long and nearly as thick. Her breasts grew round, inflating and becoming firmer and firmer. By the time they stopped, she looked like she’d had stripper tits bolted on to her chest. They were so heavy she could feel them weighing on her as she breathed in and out. Claire looked up at Stevenson, speechless.
“Those came out great,” he said, leaning over to examine her enormous breasts. “I told you I was mostly straight. That’ll be a fantastic view when you want me to fuck your face.” He smiled at her and she shivered in terror. “Or you can just work my cock with them before you swallow my cum. Nice to have some variety.” He chuckled. “Want to see the real trick?”
She could only stare at him for a long moment before nodding helplessly.
“Now someday we might be able to do the full female reproductive system,” he said. “But that’ll take a lot more research. So for right now, you only reconfigure to a limited degree down there. But up here? Men can already lactate if there’s a hormonal imbalance. With the perma-stem cells reconfiguring your breasts? Nothing to it.”
Then he reached out and squeezed one of her swollen tits, and a jet of liquid shot out of the distended nipple. Claire gasped as her head spun with unfamiliar sensation and wonder at seeing her breast actually function as Nature intended.
“So,” said Stevenson with great satisfaction. “All three configurations seem to be working well.” He squeezed the other breast and it too released a stream of milk. “You don’t mind if I test this, do you Claire?” She was frozen with astonishment and didn’t respond or resist so he lowered his head and latched on to one of her nipples, sucking firmly.
She moaned with pleasure. It felt indescribably good.
“Mmm,” he said. “Delicious.” He bit down on her nipple and laughed when she squealed and jumped. “I think she likes it.” Then he reached down and lightly caressed her aching cock while he sucked and she groaned with helpless ecstasy.
“This thing is actually kinda cute,” he said, looking down at her hard little dick. “I’m going to have so much fun with you.”
After tormenting her for another minute or two, he sat up. “All right. You’ve been reasonably well behaved. How about I put you back the way you want and turn you loose for a day or two to enjoy your new body?”
Claire blinked. “You’re going to just… let me go?”
“Not in the slightest,” he said, laughing. “You’re mine. I own you. But it’s not like I’m going to walk you around on a leash.” He paused. “Well, maybe on special occasions. But you’re wealthy and influential and I want you to keep being wealthy and influential, since now all your wealth and influence belong to me. So you can go home, go shopping, do whatever until I call for you. But when I call for you, I expect you to come running. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, despairingly. Then she gasped as she realized what she’d said.
“Good girl, Claire,” he said encouragingly. “You still need to beg for what you want, though.” He winked at her and she considered strangling him consequences be damned.
“You’ll get hornier and hornier, and no matter how hard or how many times you come, you won’t be able to stop,” he said in her head. “Eventually you’ll probably have a heart attack or a stroke.”
A horrible way to die indeed.
“Please fuck my big tits,” she said. “I want to see that big cock covered with my milk and then suck it all down when you come in my mouth.”
“Very good,” he said. “Keep going.”
“Fuck, I want you to use my tits,” said Claire, barely believing the words coming out of her own mouth. “They feel so amazing like this.” She lifted her hands and toyed with her breasts, gasping at the sensation. She pulled on a nipple and watched the milk stream out. She caught some on her hand and licked it from her fingers, staring at Stevenson as she tasted herself. “Fuck, that’s sweet.”
“How the mighty have fallen,” he said, and laughed. But he moved up and she lay back down, letting him put his cock between her breasts. They were so full of milk they lay on her chest like inflated balloons. His cock was very generously sized, but her breasts were beyond generous, and they swallowed it up with barely a ripple. Stevenson squeezed her breasts and milk flowed all over her chest. Soon she was covered with warm, slippery fluid and he started to slide his cock between her tits.
Claire moaned at the feeling. Her swollen tits were more sensitive than she would have believed possible. She could smell her milk mixed with the juices left on his cock. It was the smell of lust, of pure wanton fucking and helplessness.
Stevenson pinched her nipples, hard, and she came.
Drops of milk hit her face, the liquid flying everywhere as she bucked under him. The orgasm was quick and sharp, much less overwhelming than the ones before, but irresistible and shocking. She felt a small spurt from her nearly-drained cock as it flared out.
“Oh, yes,” said Stevenson. “Now that is hot.” He shifted his hips and the tip of his cock protruded from her cleavage. “Here’s what you want, Claire.”
She bent her neck and managed to get her lips around the head of his cock. He kept fucking, and it slipped in and out of her lips. It tasted of milk and heat and underneath, the tang of her own pussy tantalized her. She licked it and moaned with pleasure.
“Good girl, Claire” said Stevenson. “Suck hard.”
Claire lifted up on her elbows a bit and got her mouth firmly around Stevenson’s cock. He rocked his hips as she sucked and after a moment, she tasted him again. This time it was not a few drops from a syringe but thick, hot fluid that covered her tongue and filled her head with the pure scent of sex. She sucked deliriously, not even thinking about why she actually needed his cum, only about how much she suddenly wanted it. Claire gulped and shuddered at the feeling of it sliding down.
“Ahhhhhh,” sighed Stevenson. “Now that was absolutely amazing.” He rose up carefully and looked down at Claire. She was a sweaty, sticky, dripping mess and it made him smile with evil delight.
When her breasts started to tighten and then shrink, he smiled even wider. The milk already formed had to go somewhere and her nipples absolutely gushed as it was expelled. Claire writhed silently as her body reconfigured itself yet again, the small cock and balls resorbing and shifting into the thick, fleshy pussy Claire had discovered when he first uncovered her.
Eventually, her breathing quieted and she just stared up at him, her expression blank and faraway. He ran his hands over the shifted areas to see how they felt. Claire shivered, but said nothing.
“A complete success,” he said, climbing out of the bed. “You look good and you feel even better. Except you really, really need a shower.”
“Fuck you,” she said quietly, not even looking at him.
“Over and over and over again,” he said, laughing. “But you should be good for a few days now.”
“I won’t come back,” she said, her voice firming.
“You will,” he replied. “And before long, you’ll want to. The brain is a marvelous thing. Soon you’ll associate me fucking you with being your true, authentic self. You’ll want my cum as much as you ever wanted anything in your life. And you’ll want me to play with you in-between just so you can look forward to becoming whole again. And because it’s so fucking hot.”
“You won’t break me,” Claire said defiantly.
“I already have,” he replied. “Play with yourself.”
And Claire found to her horror that her hand started to slide between her legs before she even realized it was happening.
“Good girl,” he said, and a surge of heat flashed through her traitorous mind. She thought about fighting. She thought maybe she could. And maybe later, she might even try.
But for now, she closed her eyes and surrendered.