(Definitely XXX. The whole reason for this story is the images that go with it, swiped from a Japanese computer game called "X-change". 63 images, 1.7 meg of pictures! ( Sapphire's Note - Before Compression ) The 'story' is written around that, but calling it 'thin' would be too polite.)

WARNINGS: Contains transgender themes, explicit sex, pictures of sex, mild violence, bad words, and virtually no plot. (Also, the digital distortion - the pictures came that way. Part of the strange legal requirements in Japan.)

See bottom for copyright and distribution.

I Blame My Hormones

By Babs Yerunkle

( clicking on any images will bring up full size image )

I think I must just have too many hormones. That's the best explanation I could come up with. My first girlfriend, Connie, agrees. Connie and Jean are engaged in a conspiracy to "keep me under control." I see Connie every evening for a "study session." She's got brown eyes, long brown hair that comes down to the middle of her back, and likes all the right music. That's how I first met her, listening to "10,000 Fiction Maniacs" doing their rendition of "What goes around comes around."

So now Connie and I share a nightly "study session." Although it doesn't technically fall into the school's curriculum, we *do* cover plenty of biology. And I know for a fact that Connie is thoroughly satisfied with our time together. I'm the one who wears *her* out. Maybe that's why she suggested the tag-team approach

Connie had a close girlfriend that doesn't get out much. Jean spends all her time in the lab. Too bad, because with her looks she'd have the boys falling all over her, if she gave them half a chance.

Connie figured that I could help Jean get more dating, while Jean's extra attention would cure my over-active male hormones. If only I had realized how prophetic that would be!

It started like any other day. Our school doesn't have any lab classes in the afternoon, so Jean has the biochemistry lab all to herself. She's working on some big project with Dr. Crafter from the Institute of Unlikely Developments. Apparently the IUD was on the verge of a tremendous breakthrough and they needed extra lab work to track down all the possible variations. So Jean was locked up in the lab all afternoon long, except when I sneak in to see her, like today.

"Ms. Twist? I'm from the FBI," I said in my best government agent voice.

She turned, temporarily taken by surprise. "The FBI? But I never..."

"Federal Breast Inspector, ma'am. I'm going to have to examine those."

She giggled, melting into my arms. "I hope there's no problem, officer!"

I drooled, pawing her eagerly. "Oh, yes, serious problems!" My breathing got heavier as she had her usual effect on me. "You see, your abundant assets, coupled with my lack of principle, is, err... is leading to extremely high interest rates which is triggering massive inflation!"

Her hand reached down to my pants, teasing my zipper open. "Tell me more, officer."

I gasped as she fingered me, pulling me stiffly out of my pants. "Well, I..."

"Ha!" she shouted, squeezing her breasts around my rising manhood. "You've fallen for my booby trap!"

I groaned at the joke. "Please, ma'am, this is serious! We don't want things to overheat! I'm going to have to withdraw from this market before I suffer a meltdown."

She pouted at me, slipping her skirt off and sashaying toward me seductively. "Admit it, you aren't really from the FBI, are you?"

"'Fraid you caught me with my pants down," I admitted.

"Oh, not yet, but soon."

"I'm actually here to make a deposit to your sperm bank." I slipped my hand in her panties, reaching for the treasures within.

She was moaning in pleasure, but she still managed to pull back. "Bob, how many times have I told you? We can take our time. I want to go slowly with you. There's no reason to be in such a rush."

I was already starting to unbutton my shirt. "I try, honey, really I do." For once, I was speaking honestly, not joking. "It's just that I can't help myself. The hormones get me in such a rush, I just can't stop. I wish I could slow down a little, but I'm helpless in the grip of my supreme lust for your hot body! And don't tell me that you don't feel it too. Look at you! You're practically gushing. Admit it! You can't wait for me."

"Okay, I admit it, I *do* want you, Bob, it's just that for once I'd like things slow and gentle, not wild and furious."

I moved my naked body up next to hers, stroking every inch of her exposed skin. "Consider it a research project, sexy. Come up with a way to temper these hormones of mine, and I'll gladly volunteer." Who knows? Maybe she'd fix me up with a third girl. She was pretty tight with that cute redhead. Everyone said that Glory was a lesbian, but I'm willing to cater to all tastes.

"Would you really?"

"In a second, babe."

"Oh, Bob, you've made me so happy! How can I repay you?"

I grinned and grabbed her leg. Spinning her around, I slipped inside her before she'd even registered what was going on.

"Squeeze me, honey!"

"Bob!" Her voice did a wonderful job of climbing the octaves as I thrust into her.

I took hold of her control mounds and quickly had her squealing with joy. That's what I love about women. First, when you slide into them they seem so overcome by sensation that they can't say a word to stop you. Then if you can stimulate them just right, they can't get a word in edgewise, either. They're like a fine musical instrument. With the right touch you can have them squealing in any pitch you want. I think their bodies must be hyper sensitive or something. It seems like once you get them going, there's nothing they can do but hold on for the ride. Maybe someday I'll translate their squeal language, or teach them to squeeze out Morse code with their pussies so that they can tell me what they're feeling when I pound the sausage home. Lord knows, they seem utterly unable to communicate in any normal fashion - - they turn into writhing, squealing, quivering tangles of erotic flesh. Not that I mean to come down on them (I'd far rather come *into* them). Lord knows I love women, particularly when I can reduce them to uncontrollable bodies of pure ecstasy. I particularly love the way their bodies tense up as their love tunnel starts clamping on me. If you're holding on, you can tell because their nipples always turn super hard. Then their bodies tense as if they've just touched the third rail on the subway. And finally their hole fastens down on you like a vise and they start doing this pulsating squeeze on your shaft. That's what pushes me over the top. And when I'm pumping my load into them, slamming myself in all the way, they give this sort of half-moan / half-cry that makes the hair stand up on my neck from the pure thrill of it. It's like they're transported into another dimension or something. So why, given all that, am *I* the one who always passes out afterwards? They're always raring to go, ready for more, while I feel like I've just run a marathon. I'm lucky if I can managed to get dressed again before I catch a few winks to recuperate. How can they be ready for more? Who knows? It's just another one of the great unknown mysteries of the female mind.

This time, I managed to get dressed again before I fell with a thud on examination bed in the lab. In typical fashion, Jean was snuggled up next to me, stroking my skin, giving me little kisses, and making those strange cooing sounds that girls make afterward. I would have responded, but exhaustion dragged me down into the depths of sleep.

My awakening was far less pleasant than falling asleep had been. The damn girl had tied me up!

"Uh, Jean? I seem to be -- ha, ha -- a little tied up here?"

She came and gave me a big kiss. "Oh, Bob, thank you so much! Using a human volunteer will really speed the research up! I might even get to publish!" She ran back to her test tubes and began measuring strange chemicals, pausing to make notes in her lab book.

"Um, honey? Sweetie? What the HELL are you talking about?"

"Don't you remember, Bob? We decided that your over-active hormones push you through lovemaking too fast, leaving you no time for romance or enjoyment. So you asked me to try some experiments on you, to alter your hormonal balance. I'll probably need to alter your genetic balance, but Dr. Crafter's new recombinant replacement formula should do that. But who can I use as a donor for the altered chromosomes? I need someone who appreciates foreplay, loves long after-play, is very romantic, and is still plenty hot in the sack. Someone like me. But who?"

I was feeling real dread now. "Uh, sugar lumps? By 'experiment' I meant something more along the lines of a social experiment. You know? Maybe two-on-one? That's one of my dreams, you know. Maybe you and Connie, both working on me at once? That's bound to slow me down, isn't it?"

"Of course!" she said. "The perfect template *is* me! But I'll need to draw some blood, so we can archive your pattern 'before.' Now this will hardly hurt a bit." She came toward me with one of those huge vacuum vials that they use to take blood samples. I did what any red-blooded male would do: I fainted.

Unfortunately, when I woke seconds later, things weren't any better.

"Hey, Jean," I said, trying to sidetrack her. "I've got a great idea! Let's do it again! This time I'll go slower, take my time. Exactly like you want, okay?"

"You aren't fooling me, buster. You're always limp as a noodle for at least an hour afterward. Besides, I *have* to do this!" Her face took on a radiant glow. "For... for... SCIENCE!"

I was practically bawling by now. "What about ethics? Isn't there some sort of mad scientist's code?"

She looked thoughtful. "Yes, but the ethics class is in the afternoons. I'm not scheduled to take it until next semester. In the meantime, I just have to ad-lib. Now, I wonder how much of the metabolic accelerant I should use? Better be safe and put in just a drop."

I was begging now. "Oh, please baby! This stuff could seriously fuck me up!"

She gave me a grin that was pure mischief. "Then we're even, since *you* just finished seriously fucking me."

"But didn't you enjoy it? I felt you come!"

Her eyes turned all dreamy. "Oh, I did. At least six times before I lost count. I really must try to maintain concentration. Otherwise how can I keep proper notes?"

"Six times? You're kidding!" Man, babes have all the luck. Of course, if I came six times in a row, I'd be dead.

"Perfect!" she said, holding up the test tube. It was a brownish- purple sludge that fizzed and bubbled. "Best of all, it should be completely reversible, assuming you survive!"

Good. Wait a minute... "Assuming WHAT?"

But she grabbed my nose and pulled my mouth open. Before I could do more than gasp for breath, the foul brew was rushing down my throat. Well, "foul" may not be quite fair, it was really fairly sweet. Sugary. And there was a strong flavor of both cinnamon and cloves. And actually, the entire concoction was extremely nice. But I still didn't like being used as a guinea pig.

"Ta da!" She shouted. Once I gave the final gulp, she untied me.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

My eyes were going in and out of focus and I could barely stand.

"What's happening?" I wobbled over to lean against a table.

"That's just the alteration propagating through your system. You may notice some changes. In fact, I'd better call Connie and warn her, so she can take notes for me."

Connie! I was supposed to meet her after school, for a "study session." I looked at the clock. It was already 3:30. I headed for the door.

"Late," I mumbled. "Gotta go."

Jean gave me a happy wave. "Good luck! Remember, this is for your own good!"

Great. I managed to stagger to the bus stop and catch a ride to over to the Lingus house. I decided then and there that scientists were no good. Next time I'd date an assassin, or maybe the daughter of some mafia don. It would be much safer.

I staggered off the bus near Connie's house. She was already waiting and came rushing into my arms for a tender embrace.

"Oh you poor darling! Jean had no right to do that to you --"

"Damn straight!"

"-- even if it was for your own good, and may prove to be a tremendous benefit for society."


She practically dragged me into her bedroom. "Well think about it, Bob. What's the number one frustration to nearly half the people in this world? I'll tell you: men who are too damn fast! Why, if this works out as well as we hope, the great body of women today who receive no orgasms, could be nearly eliminated. And for the lucky ones, such as Jean and I, we could go from having a regular five or six to having ten, even twenty! Doesn't it just make you cream your pants?"

Since we were alone, I checked. Sure enough, she was telling the truth.

"Connie, please tell me that you don't approve of what she did to me."

She bit her lip. "Well... not exactly. But think of the benefits!"

"Benefits hell! She's turned me into her own private gerbil!"

Connie snickered. "I believe the term you're looking for is 'guinea pig.'"

"Whatever! How the hell do *I* benefit from this?"

Connie had finished unbuttoning her blouse, and was now rubbing against me suggestively. "Well, since Jean asked me to take notes, you get another opportunity to play stud."

I slipped my hands inside her bra. "I refuse to be used as your sex toy!" I said. "I'm more than just an experimental animal!"

She pulled the bra off completely. "Whatever you say, lover. But can you really walk away from these? I *need* you soooo bad!"


I could feel the old stirring in my pants. Maybe she was right. There wasn't any way I could walk out of there. But I'd be damned if I was going to play the game by their rules. It was time to add a new element -- something devised entirely by me.

"Okay, Connie, but starting now, *I'm* calling the shots. You want slow? You want attention? Then I'm going to give it to you in spades!" I slipped off her skirt and panties and pushed her down on the bed. If my girls weren't happy with my technique, it was time to try something new. Spreading her thighs, I buried my face between her legs and began to lick.

"Oh my God!" she said, her voice deep in her throat. "What are you doing to me?"

I raised my head for a moment. "You girls deserve a licking for what you've done to me! You want more? You're going to get it! I'll make you beg for release!" And with that I buried my head between her thighs and devoted my full attention to stimulating her.

"Oh my God! You don't know what this feels like! It's so... stimulating! I...! Oh...!" And past that point, she couldn't talk coherently any more. I did notice how she reacted, though, as I swept my tongue around her love button or dipped a lick inside her sweet hole. Between my hands kneading her breasts and my tongue playing with her pink flesh, it wasn't long before she was crying in overload and trying to crush my head with her thighs. But I was just starting. While she was still panting in the throes of passion, I rose above her and plunged in.

She got a crazy grin, and I settled in for a long haul. Maybe the first attack had taken the edge off my need, but this time I decided to go more slowly and draw it out for her. After a moment, her gaze softened and she reached up to caress me. Somehow that loving look did more for me than her sexy body and I found myself climaxing almost immediately. But oddly, I didn't squirt much. Connie's look was loving, but resigned.

"You see?" she asked. "Wasn't that a little too fast? Wouldn't you like to slow down and enjoy yourself more?"

I pulled out. "Who said I was done?" Remarkably, I was still stiff. As Connie watched, wide-eyed, I flipped her over and entered her again. This time, without her able to look me in the face, I was able to go for much longer. She seemed to get hotter and hotter until she was writhing under me. I felt her pussy contracting on me and let out a brief shot of my own, before (incredibly) going back to pumping her again. We continued to trigger climaxes in each other another five times, each one of diminishing intensity before I finally pulled out, still a little firm.

I lay down happily beside her to stroke her face and breasts.

"How was that?" I asked.

"Mmmmmm, fantastic!" Her eyes were focused on me dreamily. "How the heck did you manage that? You've never done *that* before. I must have had over a dozen!" She shuddered happily. "Whoa, there goes another one! Wow! Whatever Jean did to you is really working!"

I was feeling too mellow for a proper outrage. "What? No way, that was all technique, babe." Except... that couldn't be true. The first part might have been technique, but what had happened there at the end?

But thinking things over was giving me a terrible pain in the gut, so I finally got up again (for once rising before Connie). I slipped my clothes back on, then lost my balance and almost fell. Whatever was happening to me, it was still going on.

"Easy, lover. Do you feel okay?"

"No I do not! I'm getting sick to my stomach, I'm dizzy, and I'll be lucky to make it to the bus stop like this! And all because you and Jean want to make me into the perfect sex machine!"

She gave me a dazzling smile. "Is that so bad?"

"Well... At least you could help me to the bus stop."

She agreed, even coming home with me to help me into bed.

It was odd, riding with her on the bus. As I held her, I felt closer to her in some ways than I've ever felt before. I'd been intimate with this girl six ways from Sunday, but I guess I'd never realized how nice it was just to hold her and be with her. I'd always been dominated by thoughts of sex.

With my arm wrapped around her in an oddly comfortable gesture, Connie helped me into the house. Mom and Dad were both eating dinner, along with my older sister Betty (who was awake for once), but I felt too ill to eat. Instead, Connie helped me into my room.

"Boy, lover, you're really out of it."

"Dammed science experiment," I grumbled. "I feel so weak that even if you were stark naked, I don't think I could get it up."

She grinned at the challenge. "Want to bet?"

I managed a smile. "What's the stakes?"

She thought for a minute. "If I *can't* get you up, then you get a rain check. Any time, any place, your call, I'm yours. But if I *can* get you up, then you're mine. When and where I say, you're my fuck toy."

I managed a grin. "I can't argue with stakes like that. Do your best."

Dropping to her knees, she unzipped my pants.

Slowly, with infinite patience, she roused me to my final performance of the day. This was oddly unlike anything I'd ever felt before. The pleasure seemed to radiate outward from my crotch, rather than remaining centered in my stalwart member. I felt a build-up that seemed almost typical, but the climax was incredible. If my parents hadn't been in the house, I think I would have screamed to lift the roof off. But I didn't come. That is, I *came* (and how) but nothing came out. And I was still stiff. Connie looked at me oddly, since she knew what I'd felt, but went back to work. And it happened again. And then again. And then again. I wanted to tell her to stop because I couldn't stand the pleasure, but I couldn't make myself speak. In fact, I couldn't even stay in my chair. My bones melted. That's what it felt like. I never lost consciousness, but I oozed right out of the chair and onto the floor. Connie finally took her mouth off me, and sat back watching in wonder.

"What was THAT?"

I couldn't answer. The nerves were still firing sporadically all over my body. "Nggg!" I finally managed.

"Was it good?"

I managed a nod, bringing my eyes back into focus with Herculean effort.

"I guess I win the bet."

I nodded again.

"Still hate that 'damned experiment?' I think you must have come at least three times."

"Four," I managed to gasp out. My penis was only slowly losing its erection. "Maybe," I said weakly, "maybe science does have its place."

She helped me up to the bed, where she slowly undressed me down to the boxers I wear to sleep. "Well, you'd better sleep on it. I'm sure you'll be better tomorrow. Maybe you're right. If you're really upset about this, I'll help you convince Jean to put things back to normal. She seemed to think that would be no problem."

"Oddly enough, I'm still not tired," I said. "I feel almost... almost like I could do another go."

Connie frowned at me in concern. "How's your stomach? Should I bring in some dinner?"

"No. When I think about it, I've got this killer stomach ache. It kind of comes and goes. I don't really notice when we were... you know." I felt oddly reluctant to use the vulgar terms. "When we're making love."

"Well, you get some rest. I promise to stop by to check up on you before school tomorrow, okay?"


She leaned over to give me a kiss. "Now sleep well, lover, and get all better."


And I did fall into a deep sleep, deeper than I've had in years.

I was still groggy when I woke in the morning. I remembered the Jean's experiment almost immediately. Whatever she'd done to me left me feeling really weird. I got up for my morning pee and was on my way to the bathroom when I passed my mirror.

Holy shit, I had tits! Really good looking ones, too. In fact, I was a babe! What had she done to me? I was about to reach into my boxers in utter terror, when I felt myself rising to the occasion. It was kind of a relief, and kind of frightening at the same time. I mean, it was really great to know that I was still a man, but I was getting turned on by my own body! I wanted to laugh, cry, and pee, all at the same time.

Peeing won. I opened the door and looked quickly down the hall. Good, no one was up yet. I sprinted in to the bathroom to relieve myself. The relief was good, but do you know what it's like to run with really big tits? Those things must weigh about forty pounds apiece! And my new hips were so wide it felt like my legs were three feet away from each other. There was more than enough room for my manhood to dangle, which was *really* weird. I sprinted back to my bedroom, grabbing myself to keep from jiggling. I could hear Dad getting up in his room. Shit! What if someone saw me like this? I slammed the door and ducked under the covers. What the hell was going on?

I tried to go back to sleep. This had to be a dream. I'd go back to sleep, then I could wake up, and it would all be a dream. But I couldn't stop groping myself. Actually, I hate to admit it, but it felt really good. I'm not sure how women keep from constantly feeling themselves up. And every time I touched one of my gigantic new nipples, my dick would turn stiff as a board. What was I going to do?

And then things got worse. I heard Dad's voice from downstairs. "Yeah, I think he's up," Dad said. "It's time for school anyway. Go kick him out of bed, Connie."

Oh, no! I hid under the covers.

There was a knock at my door.

"Come in," I said in a soft and musical voice. It was a voice of passion. It was a sultry, sexy voice. A girl's voice. Mine. I tried to speak low, deep, back in my throat. "Come in."

Connie stepped in and closed the door. "You all better now?"

I shook my head violently, holding up the covers.

"Your voice sounded a little odd. What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?"

Connie's eyes bugged out when she heard my voice.

"What's wrong? How about this?" I dropped the covers.

Her jaw dropped. "Oh, my God! You've got TITS!"

"Oh, is *that* was you call them?" I asked, dryly. My voice was starting to turn me on.

Connie leaned close, fascinated. "Wow, you're busting out all over."

"Very funny."

"Do they work and everything?"

"What the HELL are you talking about?"

"I mean, can you *feel* them? Do they feel good." Without even asking permission, she reached out and grabbed me, rubbing a finger across a nipple.

"Hey!" I said, snatching the covers back, "don't DO that!"

She noticed my growing erection. "Oo, I guess they DO work. And it looks like you're still quite the man! Want to try the equipment out like this?"

It was an intriguing idea, but... "No! I want to get changed back to normal, NOW!" I climbed out of bed.

Connie cupped her chin in her hand and studied me. "Okay, but I don't think any of your pants are going to fit those hips. Wow, girl, you're stacked!"

I shucked off my boxers and pointed at the old flagpole. "See? I'm NOT A GIRL!" I dug around for a pair of shorts. "There. I can wear these and a T-shirt."

"Makes sense. A T-shirt for a T-girl."

"A what? Never mind! Let's go!"

"If you say so. But walking around braless like that will get you either arrested or molested."

I grabbed her wrist and started to stomp out of the house. Unfortunately, that took me right past the kitchen where Dad was reading the paper and Mom was preparing breakfast.

"Looks like the Cubs might have a shot at the pennant this year," he said.

"You're running late, dear," Mom told me, not turning around.

"Don't forget," Dad said, "I've got tickets to the game tonight."

"Are you feeling okay, honey?" Mom turned around and got her first glimpse of us. "B-Bob? Is that you? My God, what happened?"

I felt myself blushing. "I... well..."

Mom sounded like she was on the edge of tears. "I knew something like this would happen if you masturbated!"

I'd had about all I could handle. I yanked up my T-shirt.

"Okay, I've got tits! Yes, I'm well aware of that fact, thank you! And it is NOT because I masturbated (which I do relatively infrequently now, anyway). Jeez, Mom, this is the 21st century! This was a perfectly normal science experiment! It just so happens that one of my girlfriends tied me up and used me for a science experiment, and now I'm on my way to school so that she can change me back, so I'm in kind of a hurry, OKAY?" The tirade lost a little of its effectiveness delivered in my new sex-kitten voice.

I saw Dad's hands clench behind the newspaper. Slowly he lowered the paper and stared at me. I quickly pulled my shirt down, in embarrassment. Dad's scowl deepened. Finally, he spoke.

"No son of mine," he said, in a tone that I knew I could never argue with, "No son of mine is EVER going to go the ball game dressed like that! You march into your sister's room and borrow a proper dress, young man!" And with that, he went back to reading the paper.

After Connie and I recovered from our shock, we meekly crept back upstairs to my sister's room. Like always, she was sleeping in. Connie knocked on the door and borrowed a school uniform, but I'm not sure that Betty ever woke up enough to realize what was going on. Connie dragged me back to my room to help me dress.

"You have GOT to be kidding," I was still mumbling.

"Come on, shut up and put on this skirt."

Feeling totally weird, I stepped into the skirt. Connie held out a pair of panties.

"I can't wear those!" I said. "I can't wear my sister's panties!"

"This are *mine!* Remember that pair I left over here last week?"

I smiled sheepishly. "Oh, yeah." I slipped into them. "Kind of snug around the hips," I said. "Don't you have anything bigger?"

She just glared at me. "Here, let's see if you're as good at putting a blouse and vest ON as you are at getting them off."

I fumbled around for a minute, getting the vest on, then working on buttoning the blouse. Some idiot had put all the button on the wrong side. I didn't notice Connie sneaking around behind me until she reached up and grabbed a couple of handfuls of my tender new flesh. God it felt good! I started moaning, then realized what I was doing and turned on her in outrage.

"Forget the bra, didn't you?" She was smiling, as she dangled it from a finger.

"Jeez, is there no end to the indignities I have to put up with?"


"What now?"

"If you're dressed up like this, we'll need a girl name for you."

I sighed. "Not 'Bobbi.' I hate that. I've hated it ever since I was a kid."

"Hmm, how about Barbara. We could call you 'Barb.' That's pretty close."

I thought about it. "You have to promise to never ever call me Barbie."

"You've got the figure for it."

"Swear a solemn oath!"

She raised her right hand. "I do solemnly swear to never ever call my new girlfriend / boyfriend 'Barbie,' no matter how perky her breasts are, even if, God forbid, she someday dyes her hair blonde."

I scowled at her. "Thanks, I think. And for the record, it's still 'boyfriend.' I still have the proof." I pointed to my erect member, ruining the lines of my skirt.

"No problem, we'll just tuck it away." She lifted my skirt and grabbed my shaft, trying to tuck it back between my legs.

"Careful!" I said. "I think it's cocked! It might go off!"

"I just need to force it in!"

"Ah," I sighed in fond remembrance, "how familiar those words sound." Connie put a hand on my breast to brace herself and grabbed my dick to shove into my panties. My eyes crossed at the strange medley of stimuli passing through me, and I came. I hadn't squirted off during Connie's fabulous blowjob last night, but now I came in my own panties. Go figure.

"Ew, now you're going to have to borrow your sister's panties."

After bowing to this final indignity, I was ready to go. We walked to the bus together. The weird thing was, no one seemed to realize that I wasn't a girl. Sure, people were looking at me. Some of the guys were watching me with an almost hungry look. But I could tell it was a look of desire, not disgust. This was just freaky.

And on the bus, someone pinched my butt. I was never sure who. Every time I looked behind me, Mr. Briefcase, in front of me ended up bumping into me and rubbing suggestively against my thigh. I was half outraged, and half turned on. And that made me afraid that I'd get stiff again and bust loose from the panties that were none-too-effective at holding me in. It was terrible.

We finally reached school and Connie left me. "Sorry," she said. "Math test today -- can't miss it. You should be okay from here on. Jean's advisor is here consulting today, so they have exclusive use of the lab."

At least that should go okay. "Okay. See you at lunch?"

"Uh huh."

I leaned forward to kiss her.

"Barb! Do you want people to think we're lesbians?"

"Oh yeah."

Glumly, I shuffled upstairs to the lab. Fortunately, Jean was the first person I met.

"Do I know you? You look familiar."

I closed the door behind us. "It's me, Bob! Well, 'Barb' for the time being. Look what your stupid experiment did to me! You have to turn me back to normal!"

"Bob? Are you serious?"

I stripped, then pointed to my dangling member. "Recognize this? It's all that's left of the old me!"

Jean was so surprised that she almost dropped her test tube. "Oh my goodness," she said, deeply troubled. "This isn't what I planned at all! Still, on the bright side, I've still got an excellent chance of getting a publication out of it."

She put down her work and took off her lab coat before moving over to examine me. "Gosh, it really *is* you, isn't it Bob?"

"It's 'Barb' for the time being, thanks to your lunatic potion!"

She reached out to examine my manhood.

"Careful with that," I almost sobbed. "It's all that's left of my once-blissful existence! Why did I ever agree to your stupid experiment? How many girls will sleep with a guy that looks like this?"

She smiled up at me. "Well, *I* would. Strictly for science you understand."

I wailed. "Even my own girlfriend sees me as just another research subject! Life can't get any worse!"

"Hey, cool!" she said, pulling my dick up. "You know your testicles are gone, too? You have the cutest little indentation down here."

"What?" I shrieked. "You gotta fix me! I want to go back to normal RIGHT NOW!"

"Well, okay I guess. Seems a shame though. We're missing a unique opportunity here. And where am I going to get another human volunteer, especially now that we know the side-effects?"

I glared at her, so she shut up.

"I just need to get my thesis advisor, Dr. Crafter. She's right next door. I already filled her in on my work yesterday, and she said she thought she could fix some errors in my formula."

"Just hurry, okay?"

"Sure thing! Why don't you lie down on the examination bed?"

Dr. Crafter was a real babe. By which I mean that she was nearly as cute as I was now. I'd expected some aging matron, but she was in a tight purple demi-shirt which left her midriff bare under her lab coat. My traitorous dick started to rise, but part of my mind was looking at her clothes, wondering how *I* would look in them, and my faithful shaft began to wane again, until I really noticed what a fox the Doctor was, which started me rising again, until I became totally embarrassed and deflated. In short, I was hopelessly confused.

"How do you do," she said, in a deep rich contralto, not unlike my own. "I'm Dr. Crafter, Miss Twist's advisor." She placed a feminine hand on my leg, starting confused stirrings again. "Oh, my. I see what you mean. This *is* a problem."

I couldn't stop the tears forming in my eyes. "Can you help me Doctor? I feel like a freak! Tell me you can make me normal again!"

"Please, call me Regina. And your name again?"

"Barb," I almost laughed. "Barb Hitt. Please hurry!"

The doctor turned to Jean. "Congratulations, dear. You're showing quite an aptitude for the so-called 'mad' sciences. Based on this work, I'm willing to recommend you for a full scholarship!"

Jean laughed and clapped her hands, jumping up and down in the air. "Oh, thank you Doctor! Thank you, thank you!" She came over and kissed me.

I looked at the doctor in sudden alarm. "You're a mad scientist?"

She held her hand up modestly. "Oh, hardly. My degree is in bio-genetics. I did minor in the mad sciences, however, which should be plenty to take care of this little problem. Let's take a look at things, shall we?" She lifted my dick up, making a close examination. "Ah, yes, I see. Well, the good news is that I should be able to fix you up in a jiffy!"

I almost cried again. "Oh thank God!"

She stepped into the other room for a minute and returned with a huge horse pill and a beaker filled with a whitish goo.

"First, I want you to swallow this pill."

She handed me a beaker of water and I downed the pill, feeling the huge thing slowly sliding down my throat. When it hit my stomach, it seemed to explode. I could feel a tingling that seemed to rush through my entire blood system.

"That was my metabolic accelerator. I noticed that Jean hadn't used enough in her formulation. Your transformation must have taken most of the night."


"Don't worry. The reverse transformation should take less than a half hour, and the main portion can be done almost immediately. However..."

I looked up in sudden worry. "What is it?"

"Well," she frowned, "I'm afraid I need to be a bit... intimate. I'm going to have to stimulate both your male and female hormonal systems before I apply the cream to reverse your unfortunate conditions."

"What do you mean: stimulate?"

She had the grace to blush. "Well, I mean, physically. I hope you don't mind."

Normally I'd have been happy to have this babe pawing me. Right now I was just feeling weird. "Whatever it takes, go to it."

"Alright," she said. "You may want to grab hold of the bar above the bed. Try to concentrate on holding on while I stimulate you. This is going to feel extremely odd."

"I'll do my best, Doctor. Go ahead." I reached over my head for the bar.

Placing the beaker on the floor, Dr. Crafter bent down and began to lick and suck at my nipple. My eyes practically jumped out of their sockets. I had never, NEVER felt anything like the sensation that was now flowing through me. My member instantly snapped up to attention.

That was what the doctor had been waiting for. She reached into the beaker and grabbed a handful of the goo, then slopped it on my dick and began to masturbate me!

This was probably the weirdest set of feelings I've ever had in my life. I clung on as hard as I could while the doctor licked and teased my breast. All the while she was stroking me off down below toward the biggest climax I'd ever had. Within seconds, my dick was exploding with a strange orgasm. It seemed to radiate up inward, inside of me. And there was no fluid. I didn't squirt a thing. Some babe was crying out in the throes of passion. After a moment or two, I realized it was me.

"Now this may feel a little strange."

That was the understatement of the year. While the doctor continued to lick my tit, she was also stroking my dick, and now she was squeezing. It almost felt like my flesh was plastic, that I was folding inward. I felt like the doctor was turning me inside out. She was holding my shaft but pressing her fingertips on the glans, pushing the tip of my cock *in*, so that I was being pushed back *into* the skin of my shaft. I would have asked her what was going on, but my voice seemed to be locked into a set of squealing gasps. Another set of orgasms passed through me, this time definitely radiating from inside my body. It was so intense that I felt myself arching off the table. Now it was so strange that it almost felt like the doctor was pushing her fingers *inside* me, where there wasn't actually anywhere for fingers to go. I screamed out in ecstasy as another delightful shudder passed through me, then slumped down in exhaustion as the doctor stepped back and away from me.

"There. There may be some shifting for the next twenty minutes or so, and then you should be completely normal in every way." She rinsed her hands off. "I need to rush across town to double check these findings. I'll be back in an hour or two."

I felt the flesh in my abdomen began to ripple and shift, and almost doubled up in agony. I could feel something growing deep inside me, in the space centered within my hips. There was a hard fist pulsing there -- I could feel it. I reached down to take comfort from my soon-to-be- restored manhood, and got the shock of my life!


I had no dick! Instead, there was only the familiar slit. I could feel it all -- the soft folds of flesh, the sensitive nub of my clitoris, even (dread!) the silken tunnel of my vagina! The doctor had made me normal, but she had made me a normal GIRL!

I sprang up off the bed. "Jean! Come here!"

She skipped into the room. "I'm so happy! What is it?"

"How can you be happy? Look at me!"

She looked at me, then bent down, peering at my crotch. Kind of embarrassing, really.

"Oh, my. Let's see, you've got the labia, nice full lips too, vulva," this is where she stuck her finger into me, "clitoral nub, urethra in the right place, vaginal barrel..."

I slapped her hand away. "I *know* that. How do you explain it?"

"Well, silly, all girls have those parts." She suddenly hugged me. "Now we can be girlfriends! Oh, happy day! You'll be my prize exhibit!"

I glared at her! "I was supposed to be turned back into a GUY! How did this happen?"

Jean giggled. "Silly me. I must have forgot to tell the doctor that you were a guy changed into a girl. She thought you were originally a GIRL who'd grown a dick. And now she's fixed it, see? This is great! If I was going to get a scholarship before, maybe now I'll be able to get my own LAB!"

"NO! No fucking way! You have to change me back!"

"Not until I've got my scholarship!"

In a rage, I grabbed her tit and squeezed!

"Ow! Stop it! That really hurts!"

"Tell me how I can change back!"

Jean started crying. "You're hurting me!"

I wouldn't have done it normally. I feel really bad about hurting her like that, but dammit, this was serious! I let her go and thought for a minute. They say you catch more flies with honey...

"I'm sorry, Jean," I said. I *was* too. I don't like hurting anybody. "Let me kiss it and make it better. Can you forgive me?"

She just moaned.

I continued my talking. "It's just that this has gotten me so upset. Imagine how you'd feel if you woke up as someone different -- or as something different. What if you woke up as a bird, or a snake or something? Or if you woke up as a guy? Wouldn't you be kind of freaked out?"

Her eyes got an odd glimmer. "Sure... changed into a guy!"

I had her clothes off and was stroking her body. I knew how she responded and how to seduce her. I slipped my fingers down to her pussy. Chicks are helpless once you start playing in their slits. It's like their minds go on hold as they succumb to the pleasure god. Jean was moaning and writhing. I had her on the ropes now. Time to go for the kill. This is where I'd normally slip my soldier in, but my noble "John Wayne" had been taken from me -- captured by the enemy. It was time for a rescue mission. But first, I needed to seduce the enemy scientist. I slipped my fingers inside her, teasing the slippery wet folds of her. Jean was helpless. Time for the next step, but how could I consummate this? Looking around, I was struck with sudden inspiration. A test tube! I grabbed it and slid it up into her yawning cavity.

Now I had her really going. I slid the tube in and out of her with increasing speed. She was really gushing moisture by now, it was pretty cool. I think I was starting to get a little turned on myself. I realized that I wasn't feeling my normal stiffness, but a moisture of my own down between my legs. That snapped me back to reality, and I concentrated on my task.

"Oh, Bob, I shouldn't..."

"Don't worry," I whispered in her ear. "It's perfectly safe. Unless you're afraid of test tube babies."

She started laughing. I intensified my efforts, sitting up on the lab bench and pulling her up into my arms so that I could hold her and touch her with my other hand while working the test tube with my right hand. "You have to help me, Jean. You're my only hope. Remember how it was when I was inside you? Wasn't that good? Wouldn't you like to feel that again?" I kept up the sales job while seducing her body with every trick I know. I was finally rewarded when her cries started jumping up in pitch and she began bucking against me. Finally, I just held her while she calmed down, softly stroking her vulva and whispering gently to her.

"Oh, Bob," she said, crying, "you really *are* better this way."


"You're a *much* better lover. That was soooo good."

"But baby, there has to be something you can do for me!"


"ANYTHING! I'll do whatever it takes!"

That perked her up. "Anything?" If I'd had the least glimmer of intelligence, I would have stopped right there. "Well, it's a long shot, but it might work out well. And it would give me a separate publication, in case Plan A works, too."

"What is it, babe? There must be something!"

"Well... I've already perfected this first formula. Let's call it the 'Essence of Babe' formula. You've been transformed using that. As I said yesterday, I should be able to craft an opposite formula, I'll call it my 'Stud Sauce.' I'll get to work on that right away. But in the meantime..."

"Anything!" I pleaded.

She looked as thoughtful as you can look, while in the glow of post-coital bliss. "Well, the Dr. Crafter finished your girl- transformation by stimulating your male hormones while she had applied a hormone antagonist gel to your penis. The result was a combination of elevated male hormones, which bonded with the chemicals in the gel, effectively eradicating any trace of maleness you had left."

"Yeah..." I agreed, in growing depression.

"Well, it's a long shot, but what if some traces of that gel still exist in your system? Then the best thing you could do would be to stimulate your *female* hormones, so that the chemicals could attack them."

My... female hormones? I suddenly found my arms wrapped protectively around my breasts. "You're saying that you should stimulate me... as a girl?"

She bent around and kissed me. "No, silly! I'll be busy creating my Stud Sauce. We need someone else to stimulate you. Except, now that I think about it, you shouldn't touch any penises. The latent hormonal traces would destroy what we're trying to accomplish. So no pokes in your little pussy."

I think the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. Some GUY, poking his tool into ME? No way! No fucking way!

"Which lets out Connie," Jean continued. "She doesn't go for girl-on-girl. Lord knows I've tried often enough. Hey, that's it! I'll call Glory!"

Before I could stop her, she hopped off the bench and ran over to the wall. Her intercom was patched into the school's system. "Gloria Hoal, please report to the biochemistry lab immediately."

I quickly jumped off the bench myself and dressed as fast as possible. By the time Gloria arrived, I was back in my uniform, complete with red vest and its cute little yellow bow tie.

Glory, as befitted her position as class rebel, wasn't wearing a proper uniform. She had a green half tank-top and cut-offs. I studied her well-displayed curves while Jean gave the incredibly embarrassing explanation.

Glory scowled and looked at me. "Wait a minute. You're telling me that this *girl*," she hooked a thumb in my direction, "is Bob Hitt?"

I nodded, feeling my cheeks redden. "I'm going by 'Barbara' for the time being. Uh, hi."

Glory rolled her eyes. "You must be really desperate, Bob. You never did have a chance of making it with me as a guy, you know."

"Well, at least I wasn't obnoxious about it, I hope." I let my eyes linger on her figure. "I hope you don't blame me for trying. You're mighty hot."

She shrugged. "I just never found guys that interesting. But *you* on the other hand, are kind of interesting." She turned to Jean. "There isn't anything... ugly... down below, is there?"

Jean giggled. "Nope! She's a girl all the way up to her ovaries now. But if you want to know for sure, you'll have to check her out yourself. Well, I've got to go. A scientist's work is never done. Why don't you two get 'better acquainted' in the back office? There's a bed in there, and you'll be out of my way."

Blushing scarlet I looked at Glory. She followed me back into the back office. It had been made up for overnight use, for those late night research projects, I guess.

"So let me get this straight," Glory said. "You want me to 'stimulate your female hormones' so that you won't be stuck as a girl."

I was trying to squeeze myself into a teeny tiny dot. God this was embarrassing! "Uh huh."

"And you're still a virgin?"

"No way! I've had lots of girls!"

"*AS* a girl?"

I blinked in momentary confusion. "Well, no. As a guy."

Glory gave an evil little laugh and began to rub her hands together. "Oh, this is too rich! I am going to seriously seduce you, girl. I'll teach you to love that curvy little body of yours!"

I gulped. This wasn't exactly what I'd had in mind. "I... I guess I've got no choice."

"Okay, Barb, just lie back and enjoy."

I lay back on the bed, suddenly afraid. Glory slowly unbuttoned my blouse, and then pushed up my bra.

"Nice tits." She began to stroke my right breast, while using her lips and tongue on my left. The strange new girl-nipples that had been added to my body seemed pretty responsive to this behavior. I mean to say, there's no way that *I* could like it. I'm a guy. A straight guy. But you know how chicks are. Their breasts are these supremely sensitive instruments of pleasure. They feel every touch, respond to the slightest caress. A teasing tongue can turn a nipple rock hard, making it thrust up in erotic excitement. And these breasts that had been somehow stuck onto my guy's body were responding as if they belonged to any other girl. They were sending signals that were trying to drive me wild. I was doing my best to resist. I was a guy, after all. But I have to tell you, if I really had been a girl, Glory would have been driving me nuts.

"Hmmm, I don't think this is quite working," she said. "The problem is, you're still pretending to be a guy down inside of that soft flesh. I've got news for you, babe. You are girl, through and through. But how to get through to you?"

She stopped (damn!) and sat up.

"Stand up for me."

I did, pulling my shirt back down.

Glory walked around me, slowly inspecting. "You know, Barb, I don't think you've quite accepted that you *are* a girl now. When I touch you, I can tell that I'm not quite getting through to you. You have to work with me here. First, I want you to undress." She pointed to the full length mirror on the wall. "Watch yourself undress. And leave your underwear on. That makes things a little less threatening."

I did as she asked. The girl in the mirror was definitely a babe. If I'd been a guy -- I mean, if I'd still been a guy -- I mean, once I had my dick back, I would definitely have wanted to go out with her. Hell, let's be honest. I would have wanted to fuck her. To slam her down on the mattress, spread her legs, and thrust myself up into her steamy cunt. She was really hot.

But the girl in the mirror was *me.* It was really weird, moving my arms, watching her undress. I could see in the mirror, my nipples were still stiff. Not that I needed the mirror to tell me that. I could feel them. Just like I could feel the wetness between my legs. But I was done. I stood there in a bra and panties, staring at myself.

Glory began walking around me, inspecting once more. "Oh, you are one fine piece of work! Reach up to the ceiling for me."

I did.

She sidled up to me, sliding her hands over my sides, around the jut of my hip, caressing the narrow girth of my waist.

"Who do you see in the mirror?"

"Some girl."

Glory continued to stroke my skin. She never touched an erogenous zone. Let me rephrase that. She never touched one of those areas that, as a guy, I had considered "erogenous." Instead, she stroked my shoulders, my back, the ribs below my breasts, my waist and tummy.

"Who do you see in the mirror?"


She began to nibble at my neck. She stooped down and stroked her hands up and down my legs, paying particular attention to the back of my thighs, and my inner thighs. My crotch was starting to feel sopping wet. It would be a relief to strip those panties off.

"Who do you see in the mirror?"

Very quietly, I answered, "Me. That's me."

"And what are you?"

Just as quietly, I admitted, "I'm a girl. A really horny, frustrated girl."

"And what do you want?"

"I want you to fuck me. Please!"

Glory smiled. "A bit crude, but progress of a sort. First I'll let you out of those confining underclothes." She unfastened my bra, then slowly slid off my panties. "Oh, you're a juicy one, aren't you?"

"Yes," I admitted, quietly.

With a toss of her head, Glory pulled off her green top, then shucked off her cutoffs. She had a red bra-and-panty set that matched her hair. "Down on the bed, girl!"

I obeyed, and Glory came down on top of me. As a man, I'd always been on top. Now (I had to admit what I'd become) as a woman, it was being made quite obvious to me that I was now the submissive one, while Glory was dominant.

"Where shall we begin, in teaching you the art of love? Perhaps we'd better acquaint you with your new pussy."

Glory stripped off her underwear, so that we were both naked now. Half in fear, half in anticipation, I watched and waited as she moved around so that she was facing my feet. She reached a delicate hand toward my crotch.

I felt her pull my lower lips wide open. She was staring at me. "Oh, yes, you're completely a girl, aren't you?"

When I didn't answer, I felt her slide a finger INSIDE me! "I said, you're completely a girl, aren't you?"

"Yes," I agreed with a quaver, "I am completely a girl."

"I'm not sure if you really believe that yet. We're going to have to make you really FEEL that."

It was an incredibly weird feeling, having her finger moving around inside me. Not exactly exciting, just plain weird. Yesterday, I didn't have an 'inside' down there. These were nerves that I'd never had before. It was as weird as suddenly having breasts. These...things...had suddenly appeared on my chest. I felt them move and jiggle, and wow did I feel it when someone touch me there, but it wasn't *me.* Not yet. In my mind, I was still a man, suddenly living in an oddly deformed body. This was the same. My penis was missing and there was this new opening in my body, but the brain hadn't quite accepted it yet. This wasn't *me.* But Glory began touching me in unspeakably intimate ways. Down in my... feminine recesses. I could feel myself becoming wetter and wetter, so that her fingers slid around me. She began to question me. Actually, I didn't hear her at first, my mind was so overloaded by the sensation.

"I said, I want you to tell me, out loud, what I'm doing to you." She traced a fingernail over my crotch, on the outside. "What's that?"

I shuddered, perhaps in fear, perhaps in ecstasy. "My lips. My labia. You're tracing your fingernail on my labia."

She stroked up and down, rubbing with her thumb, stroking with a fingertip, making sure that I knew where my labia was and what it felt like. I couldn't help picturing beaver shots I'd seen in skin magazines -- except that this was now *me.*

"And now?"

I gasped. "My... my vulva. You're touching my inner lips!"

I could feel her magnificent fingers. I had flesh there, sensitive flaps of skin, her touch was driving me wild.

"Wow," she said, "you're really pouring out the moisture. I could eat nothing but you and have a full meal, the way you're pumping out the crotch chowder."

I gave a shaky laugh. "H-hey w-waiter -- there's soup in my fly."

"Not bad, Barb. We'll make a real girl out of you yet. Now what am I touching?"

My eyes felt like they'd each grown six inches in diameter. I was clawing the sheets and levitating above the bed. It wasn't a bad sensation, just very intense. "Cccc---" I tried again. "Ccclll--- aaaa!"

"Try again."


"There. That's a girl. I knew you could do it. It's nice, isn't it?"

Now that her hand had moved off, I could answer. "N-nice." I said. "I've never fel-" My throat just closed. That's all I can say. Breathing stopped.

"And where am I now?" she asked sweetly, sliding her middle finger deep inside of me. I felt the finger travel *into* me. All the way in. It was inside of me. And I couldn't help but squeeze it. I was using muscles I hadn't realized that I possessed, but it felt REAL good to be squeezing. I still couldn't breath or speak, but it felt so nice.

The finger wiggled. "Where am I?"

"Vah--- vah--- gina. My vagina. All the way in." I said this in a panting sort of breath.

"Oh, hardly all the way in. My teeny little finger couldn't do that. Now, let's put it all together. You hold on, and I'll show you how it all works."

I was lying on my back by now. She snuck one hand in under my big new butt, and the other hand came in over the top. Between the two of them, they stroked and stretched me, rubbed, poked and penetrated.

"How's that, girl? Is that nice?"

"NnnGG!" I said. I couldn't make myself speak, so I just nodded my head, very hard and fast.

Glory's fiendishly delightful hands worked away at my crotch. At my pussy. I could say it now. With the feelings coursing through me, I had no choice but to accept the reality. I had a cunt, a slash, a beaver. I would be creaming my panties right now if I had any on. As she rubbed me, I could feel echoes all over my body. My skin felt electric, my breasts were jiggling in time to my involuntary hip movements. There was a girl in the room making high-pitched "ah ah ah" panting-type sounds. She sounded pretty turned on, which excited me all the more. I realized that I was pulling my legs farther and farther open, as I pressed myself into Glory's supremely talented hands. My butt clenched, and everything in my body reached a quivering threshold. It was like being on a raft as you pass over a waterfall. Just for a moment, you hang suspended in mid-air. That was where I was... and suddenly, everything changed. I was bucking, I was gasping, I was squeezing with every single muscle from my pussy to my uterus. I was clawing the bed, I was screaming. My entire body was aflame with erotic fire. And it just went on, and on, and on, and on. It had never been like this as a man. It just kept going!

Finally it began to fade. "Oh my God," I whispered. "I have never felt so -- o -- OH!" It was starting again!

I dimly heard Glory's voice. "Oh yeah," she said. "Now that you're a girl, you might have multiple orgasms. For some girls, like me, they're no big deal. For other girls, pillow eaters like you, I've heard they can be pretty mind-blowing."

This time, even my hair was tingling. "That was incredible," I breathed. "How many will I have, and how often do-oo-AHEEE!" You see, she just kept rubbing me, and that sent my new body off again. I think the orgasms were like sonar pings, passing through my body and striking little orgasm echoes off all the oddest parts of girl-flesh they found. Which was now just about everywhere. My neck, my earlobes, my fingertips.

Finally Glory stopped, and a few minutes later, my spasms began to trail off.

"Feel like a girl now?" she asked, quite unnecessarily.

"Oh, yeaaaaaaah." I couldn't help shivering in delight. Strangely enough, I didn't feel the least bit sleepy.

"It's time for stage two, then," Glory announced. "Let's see if you like being eaten out? At the same time, you can practice your technique on me."

Before I could move, she was spread out on top of me, her cunt in my face. Her own mouth was poised over my pussy.

"Here's the game, girl: You lick me, and I'll lick you the same way. That way, you can help show me what you like. And I'm betting that I'll like the same thing."

She was plenty wet herself, by the remaining vestiges of my male mind were turned on by the prospect of this hot girl-flesh that waved in front of me. I stretched out my pointy pink tongue and licked her outer lips, licking off the moisture there.

"Not bad," I said. "Cream of Glory soup."

She did the same to me. I felt her tongue slowly licking up along my labia. It was sending real tingles through me.

"Pretty nice spread you got here," she said.

I circled her inner vulva. "Mmmm, finger lickin' good."

I felt her tongue circling my vulva. "Here comes more of that Crotch Chowder!"

I looked at her clitoris and grinned. Time to go for the prize! "I think," I said, "that I'd better get to work, lickety split!" And with that, I swept my tongue over her clitoris, licked up toward her vagina, and then speared inside her. Her legs clamped on my head.

"Okay, girl, you're asking for it." Her tongue gave a quick lick-lick-lick to my clitoris, causing my legs to uncontrollably clench around her head. Then she licked down, moving toward my vagina. I waited in breathless anticipation... then I felt her hot little tongue spearing inside of me. It was bliss.

Our mutual licking got faster and faster, as I learned exactly how it feels to be a girl when someone licks you out. The answer: completely fantastic. I was writhing uncontrollably feeling my vaginal barrel clench and clench and clench with each orgasm that jolted through me. My only regret was that there was nothing inside of me that I could clench *on.*

But I gave as good as I got, and soon Glory and I were both cuddling together in post-coital bliss.

"Your turn," I said. "That's two you've given me, and only one I've given you. Here, swing around so that you're on top of my face. Let me show you what this girl has learned."

I drove her wild. Now I knew what it feels like to be rough, and when to go in, and when to tease a girl's clit. I *was* a girl. I drove her wild, and soon had her dancing the wild thing on my face. Strangely enough, it felt really good to be doing that for my lover, even if I wasn't getting off at the moment. It was good for me purely because it was good for her.

After that we collapsed and hugged together. We could have snuggled together for hours, but Jean knocked on the door and pulled Glory out to talk to her. I lay in the bed, huddled to myself, missing a lover to wrap myself around. I needed snuggling. I felt lonely for the warm, fuzzy, contact that I needed during my afterglow. I was there for quite a while, thinking warm and happy thoughts.

As I lay there naked, there was a knock on the door. Before I could move, Dr. Crafter stepped in leading two boys!

I brought my arm up, desperately trying to cover my tits. Giving a high-pitched screech I grabbed some of the clothes on the bed and dove behind a screen. "Doctor! I'm NAKED!"

I looked at what I'd grabbed. Great. It was Glory's shocking-red bra and panties. I shrugged, then pulled them on. The bra was a little tight, but at least it covered me.

"Calm down," the doctor said, "these are fellow experimentees."

I peeked from around the corner. "You're going to turn them into girls?" I stepped out in the open. Okay, I was parading around in Glory's lingerie, but I had to see this. Actually, the boys looked familiar somehow. "Uh... do I know you guys from somewhere?"

The redhead pointed at me. "That isn't your underwear!"

The other guy was staring at me with a bit too much lust in his eyes. He elbowed his friend. "Huh, huh. Look! Fresh twat! Huh, huh."

I felt acutely embarrassed. Somewhere deep inside me, my old male self-image was withering in abject humiliation. Once these guys started talking, I'd never be able to show my face in school again.

The brown-haired pervert finally spoke again. "Don't you recognize us, Barb?"

I stared at him. He *did* look familiar. "Uh..."

"I'll give you a hint," he said. "You've had sex with both of us."

"What? I've never slept with a guy! I-" All of a sudden it dawned on me. I stared at them. "Connie? Glory? Is that you?"

The brown-haired guy scuffed his feet. "Uh, I'm going by 'Conner' right now."

"And I'm 'Philip,'" the redhead said.

This was weirder than weird, but all of a sudden it felt like we were all guys together. Without thinking about it, I strode forward and gave them each a friendly punch in the shoulder.

"Guys! Weird but cool! Hey, we should have a few brews together! Watch some games, talk about chicks." I realized that I was still dressed in my underwear. "Uh, I mean, well, you know."

'Conner' scratched his head in embarrassment. "I know what you mean about this being weird. So Barb, I heard you were a complete girl now. How did *that* happen?"

Dr. Crafter gestured for me to hop up on the table, which I did. "When I first saw Barbara she had a functional penis, but as you can see," she grabbed my legs and spread them wide, "she's now fully female. I used a topical version of the formula I gave to you two -- the male-to-female formula, of course."

I pushed the doctor's hand away and tried to assume a more modest pose. "Uh, guys, show's over. You can move back now. Besides, gals, it's nothing you haven't seen before, right?"

'Conner' was leering at me. "Well, yes, but I've suddenly got a whole new perspective on things, if you know what I mean. Things are suddenly looking a *lot* more interesting."

Dr. Crafter headed for the door. "Well, I'll leave you three to discuss things. I'm sure you'll want to compare notes." She closed the door behind her.

I made a pushing motion toward Conner. "Okay, you can drop the 'King Leer' act. We've both seen each other naked before. You can step back a little."

His grin got wider. "I *do* have a little Shakespeare I'd like to show you."

I stuck my tongue out at him. "Yeah, I'll bet. Is that a banana in your pants or are you just happy to see me?"

He looked down at his growing tent pole. "Whoa! This thing has a mind of its own, doesn't it. Down boy!"

Philip started to get into the act. "Since you're already wearing *my* underwear, I guess you aren't wearing your Freudian slip." He assumed a appropriate accent. "Tell me, how long have you dated your mother?"

Conner unzipped his pants. His dick sprung out, and I've got to say, it was HUGE. And stiff. And it was aimed straight at me.

I started backing away. "Uh, guys, enough's enough. I'm on a strict diet right now: no penis. So just put it away, okay?"

Conner had this looked of bemused wonder on his face. "Surely you aren't afraid of ME are you?"

I felt the wall at my back. I dropped into the corner.

"Don't call me Shirley. And I'm not afraid of *you*, I'm afraid of your little friend Peter Pecker there." I pointed a trembling finger.

"Peter Pecker?" Philip asked.

"You know," Conner explained, "as in 'Peter Pecker poked a pink and pretty pussy.'"

"Yeah," I said, finishing. "But IF Peter Pecker poked a pink and pretty pussy, where's the pink and pretty pussy Peter Pecker poked?" About a nanosecond later, I realized what an idiot I was. They were both staring at me, with a suddenly hungry look.

"Uh, guys? Girls? You CAN'T be serious!"

"Betcha can't eat just one," Conner said. His voice was oddly husky.

"No, no, no! Hold on here! I'm not quite ready for the tonsil cream just yet. Besides, you'd never fit in my mouth, much less... down there."

Conner looked down at his baseball bat. "This little thing?"

"Um, that monster isn't 'little.' It's huge. It's moby huge." I chuckled with nervous humor. "It's a moby dick!"

Philip gave a demented little laugh, unzipping his own pants. "Hey, I've got a sperm whale, too!"

"That's really swell, boys, but you can call me 'wish-male,' if you get my drift."

Philip was staring at me and starting to drool. "Maybe that makes you the girl who always gets her man, Melville."

"Huh? Enough joking around. I think you should put those things away. I'm afraid they might go off."

Conner pouted. "Come on, Barb. You did both of us! It's time to return the favor."

"Wait a minute," I said, correcting him. "Glory never did me when I was a guy."

"Okay," Philip said. "How's this for a compromise? We just engage in a little friendly kissing. You don't touch a penis unless you ask for it or tell us that it's okay."

Conner looked at me. "Please? For that time in your room?"

Low blow. "Oh, alright. Just kissing."

They reached down, lifted me up, and set me on the bed. These boys were *strong!* (It was kind of stimulating, actually.) Before I knew what was happening, Conner was kissing me on the lips. It was completely different from when I kissed Connie. For one thing, his tongue was bigger. It felt, I don't know, more "manly" somehow. It was pretty interesting. I felt like melting into his arms. Which was stopped the instant I felt something else. Philip was lifting my bra up (okay, technically it was *his* bra) and suddenly his mouth was on my tit! He was sucking my nipple into his mouth!

My eyes bugged out and I tried to scream, but Conner only took that opportunity to stick his tongue deeper into my mouth. I would have resisted more, but my body kept pressing me harder into the two of them. I felt myself getting wet again, and I knew my traitorous nipples were giving me away to these two, who were well aware of how girls displayed their arousal. I finally forced myself to pull back.

"That -- that wasn't fair!" I sputtered.

"Oh, come on," Conner said. "You've done far worse to both of us."

"Well, yeah..."

"I want my underwear back!"

My heart was trembling now. "Um, okay." I slipped off the bra and panties. I was keenly aware that I was standing naked in front of two visibly aroused men. "Remember, you promised no penis, not a touch, unless I asked for it."

"Sure," Philip agreed. "Just kissing. Now stretch out on the bed so we can get work on appreciating you like the stunningly beautiful girl you are."

I felt a soaring in my heart as I joined him on the bed. "Really? You think I look good?" I'd used that line on a dozen girls. I knew it was a line. But it still did something to my heart when I heard it. I settled toward Philip, but he slid down and fastened his mouth on my breast.

"Babe," Conner said from behind me, "you aren't just beautiful, you are gorgeous!" He began running his hands possessively over my butt and thighs. "Hey, roll her over, Philip. I've got to get some of this action."

I was feeling oddly passive, but the strangest sensations were passing through me. These *boys* found me attractive. They wanted to fuck me. And a part of me wanted ... I can't say it. I was a GUY, dammit! If I was really a GUY, how the hell could I want some other GUY to shove his dick into me? Obviously I didn't. No way. No fucking way. But...

Conner pulled my legs apart and started licking my pussy. He was good. He obviously knew how and where to touch a girl. His technique was incredible. I felt my traitorous legs spring wide for him. Meanwhile, Philip was working on both of my breasts. It really wasn't fair, stimulating a girl like that.

"Try sitting up," Conner urged. "I can do a better job that way. I think we can teach you a few things now that you're part of the cunt-ee club."

Passively, I sat up. My body was such a swirl of sensations and desires that I could barely think. I realized that I was panting. My body was responding to the stimulation, and it was all I could do to hold on for the ride. Then Conner went to work: his thick masculine tongue probing my pink delicates. Philip continued to work on my breasts, while his mouth nuzzled my neck and ears.

The buildup was slow. I felt it growing and growing within me. At the same time, there was an emptiness. I'm not sure how else to describe it. I *needed* something inside me. Maybe I shouldn't be coy. I wanted one of them to stuff his dick in me. I admit it. But I wasn't about to ask for it. Even if I had wanted to, I don't think I could have spoken right then. I was being turned into a quivering tangle of super-erotic flesh, but I was utterly unable to communicate about it. I grabbed the sheets as the feelings peaked within me. I screamed and thrashed and bucked like an animal. But the two boys held me safely and gently, and when I came aware of my surroundings again, they only had love in their eyes. I almost cried. They had been there for me. I still felt that emptiness....

"Okay," I said in a weak and trembling voice. "Maybe just one lick."

Conner held me while Philip moved to stand beside me. When had they taken their clothes off? It didn't really matter. I was mesmerized by the penis. It looked really... good. I mean, REALLY good.

"I promise not to come in your mouth," Philip said.

Conner snickered. "I've heard that one before. Like the confused agent who told the actress, 'I swear to God, the check's in your mouth and I won't come in the mail!'"

How can you live your entire life with something, without ever really seeing it? I stared in fascination. It was beautiful. It was huge. I... I wanted it. I reached out to trace it with my delicate finger. It quivered at my touch. I ran my tongue down it and Philip groaned. I made an "O" with my lips and put my mouth over just the head, then withdrew again. He cried out in what sounded almost like agony.

And the realization hit me. I was no longer passive. I could be active. I could be powerful! I remembered what it was like as a man. I knew it very well! Comparing it against my current feelings, I realized that the *sex* was better as a woman, but the *need* was stronger as a man. Assuming that Philip stayed honorable and didn't take me by force, *I* held all the cards now. I grabbed his tool and began to play with it, licking and teasing him. He had a drop of salty, musky pre-cum at the tip. Tasting it caused my nipples to swell up again. It tasted so... masculine.

"Uh, Barb? Barbara?" It was Conner, pleading with me. "Remember the bet we had yesterday? I won, remember? 'When and where I say, you're my fuck toy.' Remember?"

I remembered. I smiled.

"Barb? I want you NOW! Please?"

"Yes, Conner," I agreed. "I want you too."

"I mean, I want to stick my penis in you. In your pussy."

"I know dear." I turned away from Philip for a moment, kissing Conner. "I'm a virgin, Conner. I hope you enjoy taking my virginity as much as I treasured taking yours."

So Conner held me, while he slowly slid into me. I'm glad he came from behind -- he didn't penetrate as deeply. I'm not sure if I could have handled full penetration, that first time. Not that it would have mattered. Once he started sliding into me, I was so overcome by the sensation that I couldn't have uttered a word to stop him.

While Conner held me, I sucked on Philip. I was filled. Happily, lovingly filled. The vaginal penetration wasn't entirely comfortable. I felt a ripping inside me as Conner took my maidenhead. It burned, it hurt. And strangely enough, at the same time, I was happy. It wasn't the thrill of sex, it was more of a womanly fulfillment. This was what I was meant for. This is what I truly wanted. The burning pain turned it into an undeniable right of passage. And slowly, Conner helped massage the pain away, as he helped me become a real woman.

Philip cried out and started to spurt. True to his word, he tried to pull out of my mouth. I wouldn't let him, though. I clamped down with my lips, leaning forward. He quickly gave up and enjoyed it. I discovered that boy-cum isn't as delicious as a chocolate sundae or anything like that, but it had a sensual satisfaction that I found quite pleasant in its own strange way. It made me feel delightfully girlish to suck him and swallow him.

Then Conner began to spurt. Heh, heh. Control is hard, isn't it, boys? They collapsed in a dead heap, but I rolled over Conner and began licking him back erect. His penis had a wonderful mix of his musky sperm and my own female juices. As his eyes regained their focus, his staff regained its erection. Before he knew what was going on, I had climbed on top of him.

I rode him like a horse. This time, *I* was in control. I humped away like an animal, taking my stimulation and pleasure and draining this poor naïve boy. I touched myself wonderingly. Boys had touched me, *had* me everywhere -- my breasts, my mouth, my pussy. And I liked it. I loved it!

This time, I did climax. It was incredible. First my nipples turned super hard. Then my body tensed up, like I'd touched the third rail on the subway. And finally, I felt my cunt gripping him like a vise. I threw myself down on Conner and simply quivered. I felt myself squeezing away at the firm pole inside of me and it was simply indescribably. It was the most fantastic sexual experience I had ever had. I felt his seed responding to my vaginal urging, and he was soon filling me. It was wonderful to feel his hot fountain spraying deep within me. I was every inch a woman, inside and out.

And as that was over and Conner passed away into unconsciousness (I swear, men have no staying power), rough hands rolled me over. It was Philip, erect and awake again. He looked at me, questioning.

"Yes!" I hissed at him. "Hard, fast! Be brutal, lover. USE me!"

Philip's technique was to pull out completely before plunging back in. It was rough, but at the same time, incredibly exciting. I was supremely aware of my lower lips, my pussy, my entrance. He pulled out and I was left in agonized longing. I wanted his firm meat inside me! I needed it! I needed to squeeze against him. But then he'd plunge in again, stuffing me full. I felt like I was being torn wide open. It wasn't painful. It was rough, but GOOD. As he slammed inside me, I would tighten on him, doing my best to hold him in place. Finally, he went cross-eyed and erupted into me, hosing my hungry tunnel with his masculine spray. I couldn't help myself. I started making this strange sort of half-moan / half-cry as the pleasure filled me. I climaxed on him again and again, squeezing for all I was worth against the unyielding mass of that lovely cock filling me.

Then Philip pulled out and rolled over. In seconds, he was snoring, too. The cad! I still wanted him inside of me! I felt their lovely semen dripping out of me, and I wanted more. Didn't they understand? Didn't they know that I needed to hold them, cuddle with them? I wanted him to lay on top of me, so that I could slowly feel his dick as it shrank back down. I wanted to stroke them and kiss them, and all they could do was sleep! A woman's life is hard. Instead, I lay there nestled between these two magnificent men. I ran my fingers down their arms and hard flat chests, making soft little cooing sounds and giving them tiny kisses when the feelings of love overpowered me.

I was startled out of my reverie by a knock on the door. The guys were still passed out on the bed. I sat up, covering myself, as Dr. Crafter looked in.

"Well," she said. "You three certainly didn't waste any time. I hope you all enjoyed yourselves."

Not knowing how else to respond, I simply blushed and looked down.

"You're the one I want to talk to. Follow me."

I grabbed some of the clothes and found one of the guys' T-shirts, which I pulled on. I was searching for panties, but Dr. Crafter stopped me. "Don't bother with that, just follow me." She led me to another room. Inside was a small pile of men's clothes, neatly folded. The doctor handed me a test tube with a rubber stopper in it. The brew inside was a brownish purple that fizzed and bubbled.

"I guess we forgot about you in all the excitement. Sorry I got it wrong this morning, but no harm done. This is the cure. Drink this, and within 30 minutes you'll be completely back to normal. 100% male. And since your friends probably won't be talking about this either, no one need ever know a thing."

With that, she gave me an airy wave and headed out the door. "Well, this is probably the last I'll see of you. We have a mountain of work ahead of us. Why, the Chinese market alone... If we sell them the formula to give them nothing but boy heirs, then we can have a follow-up campaign the next year to go the other way, and after that... I wonder if they'd fall for the old Sneetches gambit?" She closed the door, muttering to herself.

I sat there, lost in thought. This was exactly what I'd been waiting for.

All I had to do was drink it down. No more struggling with bras or being pinched on the butt. No more sissy fashions. Never again would I have to wear lacy lingerie or a pretty dress. I'd never have to learn the complex art of makeup, or have to cook or clean or do any of the thousands of domestic chores that women are heir to. I'd never suffer a period. I'd never have to worry about getting pregnant, waddling around in the last month of pregnancy, or going through the pain of childbirth. I would never have to hold my precious little baby or sing to him or nurse him to sleep.

Huh? Where had THAT thought come from?

I *had* to change back. The opportunity had been quite literally handed to me. What kind of man turns his back on manhood? What kind of man voluntarily throws away his penis for the soft, weak body of a woman? What kind of man would deliberately choose to dress in lace and lingerie, dresses and bikinis? Only a pathetic sissy. Only a weakling. What kind of man deliberately sucks a cock? What kind of man eagerly impales himself on another man's dick? I had to be honest. Only a homosexual. A queer. A faggot. Maybe, after changing back, I could blame it on my hormones. That sounded plausible. "It wasn't me -- it was all those girl hormones suddenly rushing through my system. *I* never did that stuff. Not really. Not the *male* me."

I might be able to make myself believe it. Because I had a choice. If I drank this down, if I changed back now, my male intellect was triumphing over the hysterical passions that girls are so obviously prone to. But if I refused to drink it, I'd be a sissy, a weakling, a queer, a pathetic, panty-wearing freak. That would only be true if I deliberately remained a girl.

There really wasn't any choice at all.


Based on her discoveries, Jean Twist left school in her junior year to attend the Modern Prometheus Institute of Mad, Deranged, and Diabolical Sciences. Although she has a full scholarship, she explained in her letters (we still correspond often) that she maintains an outside job as well, catering to "the many private disciplinary institutions which require my unique capabilities." In the photo she sent she is dressed in the "typical uniform."

I'm not entirely sure what sort of "disciplinary institution" dresses its staff as French maids, but Jean assures me that there are many. She even gave me a web site where their curriculums and techniques are discussed in "frank detail." She sounded like she was having great fun.

She even asked me for suggestions when she finally decided to market her formula publicly. She originally wanted to label it simply "Essence of Babe." I told her instead that she'd better slap on a huge warning that said, "For growing FEMALE REPRODUCTIVE ORGANS! Use EXTREME CAUTION." She went with that, but toned it down to the less alarming "To womb; it may concern."

Connie Lingus went back to being a girl. She was glad she'd had a chance to see things from the other side, but wouldn't stay that way for anything in the world. She, Philip, and I still see each other frequently, but she's going after college guys, now. I heard her new boyfriend is pursing a Labia Major at Oral Roberts University. Connie often likes to go down to give him a head start on his studies.

Philip Hoal, oddly enough, stayed a guy. After graduating cum laude, he become something of a jack off all trades, filling a wide variety of openings. He spent some time as a seaman in the Navy, before getting his honorable discharge. He briefly worked as a dentist, filling cavities. But he finally seems to have found his niche running for public orifice, where he's able to engage in the social intercourse that he enjoys so much. And even though he's risen to great heights, he still has time to get together with me for the occasional tête-à-tête.

And as for me...

I smashed that stupid test tube and made sure that every single drop of that damned formula was washed down the drain forever. I'm never going back!

I did have to deal with some strong reactions back home. Dad was deeply upset. Not about my change, but about the fact that the Cubs lost that night. It looks like they won't be in the series, either. I'm not sure that he really noticed anything different about me. Mom was happy that she'd be able to give me Betty's hand-me-downs and save on our clothing budget. Not to mention that she'd have a daughter to share the load of cooking and cleaning, a companion to take shopping, another daughter to join her in makeup, shopping for formals and prom dresses, and a deciding vote at the movie-rental counter when we all wanted a film about relationships and emotions, but Dad just wanted some stupid action flick. Mom was also happy that we finally had the votes to enforce a permanent "seat down" policy throughout the house.

My sister Betty woke up long enough to hear the news. "Is that all?" she said, and went back to sleep.

I decided that I wasn't gay for liking men, but I *was* gay because I still liked women. Then I decided that it really didn't matter after all.

School was a bit harder to adjust to. It would be a gross understatement to say that everyone was shocked. The girls only accepted me after that first gym class, when I showered with them. I was having my period then (ick) which probably helped tip the scales. What a pain in the -- uh, let's just say, it was bloody awful. The only good thing about my period was that it convinced the girls in school that, whatever I'd been before, I was obviously a real girl now. Of course, it didn't hurt that I had the inside scoop on how boys really thought. (If you can call that thinking.) After a while, the boys realized that I was "all girl" and my popularity soared. And just when I thought I'd learned all there was to know about being a girl, my dates taught me something new. Do you know that girls can climax purely through breast stimulation? Well, some girls can. I can. Wow! I've decided that sex is like cards. Two tits beats one penis. A pussy beats two tits. And a "full house" (the whole wonderful, magnificent female package) beats *everything.* When a boy gets me off, I *want* to return the favor (and I've found *plenty* of methods without going all the way -- a girl is only limited by her imagination). And afterward, when he's snoring, I can hold him and snuggle and nuzzle, and bask in the afterglow for hours.

Best of all, is the band. Five of us got together to form an all-girl band we call "The Tease-Girls." I'm the lead singer, because they say I've got the lungs for it. For a while we were just doing dances and the high-school circuit, but all that changed with our top-of-the chart hits. Hot on the heels of "I'm ape for undies (Chimpanties)" we had "Don't give me that Sisy-phus! (A Tartarus SOS)." Once we followed on with our ballad, "How I feel inside," things really started to move. We landed cameo roles on "Busty Beach Babes," and were guest-stars in the summer's big-budget sex-comedy "Feds, Beds, and Co-eds."

It was there in Hollywood that Jerri (our drummer) gave me the lifetime answer to all my sexual frustrations (should I ever have that problem again). It was the same technique her music teacher gave her for keeping a regular rhythm. (No, that's *not* what they mean by 'the rhythm method!') The secret is: rechargeable batteries.

At first I was reluctant to try out Jerri's pink little bullet-buddy. (Do you know where that thing has been?) And it didn't exactly slide right in, you know? I tend to be a little on the tight side. But a fresh set of "C" cells to rev it up, and a little close contact to rev me up, and soon the evidence was hidden away - the only clue was an ever-dampening set of panties. "Pinky" really gets the juices flowing, you know? And I was grinning like an idiot for *hours*. God I love being a girl!

So if you see me and I'm acting a little ditzy but have a big smile, you can guess what secret I'm hiding. Our manager says our image has really improved, but maybe that's because (when I finally bought Jerri a replacement) I splurged and picked up a little something for all the girls in the band.

Well, time to practice on our new songs. We've got a concert tour next month, and we want to be ready with our new hip-hop tune, "Your ho' moans." The other girls sing melody, while I need to synchronize to a tape-loop of my own voice. You know? The whole "she's singing a chorus with herself" bit? We're still trying to work it out for use in a live concert, and I can't get it quite right. I've got the timing okay, but something's off. I think... I blame my harmonies.

Gotta go!

The End

COPYRIGHT: I Blame My Hormones (Version 1.1) I'm sure the images are copyright to someone, I just have no idea who (that's the problem with free stuff on the web, isn't it?). Everything else is Copyright © 2000, 2003 by Babs Yerunkle (babs_yerunkle -at- hotmail -dot- com). This file may be freely archived, copied, transmitted, and redistributed, provide that it remains in its original form with all warnings, copyright, author credit, and other info intact. It may NOT be distributed for profit or sold for profit.