His Metamorphosis into a Woman

Author's notes:

This story jumps the shark a bit and makes reference to technology that is more fantasy than science fiction in nature. A word of warning... a bit of gender bending is involved.

This was based in part off from a dream I had. It is unlikely that a sequel will be in the works. This was kind of a one-time thing... nothing more.

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Wade Cole was a nineteen year old (second year) sophomore. He stood 6'2", weighed roughly around 200lbs. As a man, he was lean and compact, with a muscular frame that looked more primal fitness (than that of a serious body builder). To further compliment his figure, he had typical Nordic features of high cheek bones, blond hair and blue eyes.

Looks, however, with Wade were not the whole package. He was smart and athletic as well. In high school he had been an avid scholar, taking his fair share of advanced placement course. Upon graduation, he entered college with sophomore status, at the age of eighteen.

However, like all individuals, Wade lacked something. In his family, that had been emotional security (his father had been a drunk), and the family had suffered greatly after his mother left his father for a new man. His younger sister, Jennifer had followed their mother, but Wade had stayed behind out of loyalty to his father. It was not out of fondness for the man, Wade found the man (his father) to be demeaning and ungrateful (as well as careless). Deep inside of his self, he knew that he did not respect or much care for his father; he actually subconsciously loathed the man. Still, his father needed help and Wade was there to make sure that there was enough food on the table and the rent payments were actually made in a timely fashion.

While in high school, Wade not only excelled at academics, but sports as well. He played varsity baseball, basketball, and football. In baseball he had been on the varsity baseball team (as well as a member of the local legion club). His main position had been that of pitcher, though because of his excellent fielding skills and fair hitting ability, he saw some time at shortstop too.

His career in basketball had been much the same. He was a four year starter. Though, because of his height, he had played most of his four years at the shooting guard position. During his four years on the team, they had been to State all four years, but had failed to win a championship. There best year had been when he was a junior and they lost to the perennial powerhouse in the finals 66 to 61.

The sport he was least successful at was football. He had a love, hate relationship with it. He had not made the varsity team until he was a junior. When he did, he sat the bench for most of that year (though he did get some reps in at the cornerback position). It was not until his senior year that he got a chance to make starts for the varsity. His play at the cornerback position from the year before had made the coaching staff reevaluate their positioning of him. He went from being the third string quarterback to the starting tailback (of which there were two).

Playing a full season at the position he ran for well over two thousand yards and scored sixteen touchdowns. Neither were state records at any division, but he was selected for all conference honors, and his achievements were noted because of the team being predominately a running and gunning offense that scored through the air. With his introduction, the team became more balanced and won their first state championship in five years.

What was more shocking to Wade was the lack of interest that many large division I programs showed in him. He did have offers, but they were mostly for his academic ability. This was not, however, going to pay for four years at a major state institution. Further, his chances of getting into an Ivy League school were crushed when his father, ever reliable, filed for bankruptcy over a gambling debt. Using all of his cash reserves, some forty thousand, he paid off much of the court cost. This, however, left the two of them broke.

With little options left, he took the one opportunity that was left to him. It was an athletic scholarship in football to a school somewhere in the Midwest (the name is being withheld). This surprised him somewhat because it was both his least favorite sport and the one that he had the least experience at. Still, the university had big plans for him. He was going to be their leading back.

This, however, was not to be. Entering training camp, the university ended up by red-shirting him his freshman year (he simply was not fast enough). He would have been their third string back. Instead, the university coaching staff decided to move him to another position. The plan was originally to move him back to corner. Here, however, the university had two starters (that were both all Americans). The only position that was left that he had some familiarity with was quarterback. Again, however, an all-American (likely future professional) was seated above him. Out of options, he worked out in the off season and to the surprise of many managed to convince the coaching staff to give him a look at tailback after all. However, just four games into the season he tore a major ligament in his right left and on the very same play broke his toe. Out for the season, he was now only interested in keeping his athletic scholarship so that he could finish his undergraduate degree in business.

Now desperate to not lose his scholarship he began to explore the possibilities into making a recovery sufficient enough to return to the field. The problem was that everywhere he turned a door was slammed in his face. No one believed that he would return. Opportunity, however, would come in the guise of an illegal study going on. He overheard it, and a friend confirmed the details of the experiment. It was a genetics test for reformulated the DNA sequence (in a mature organism). The idea was to inject a nano-virus into the participant that would create some minor change. There were a number of projects that were working with injuries (not so unrelated to his).

So out of options, late one night he broke into the university medical facility and made his way up to the seventh floor. Here, he, however soon discovered some relational problems. The first was that he had little time, and the second, he did not know what vaccine to select. Browsing them over, however, he quickly made his selection. He took a kit, and then proceeded to fill another to replicate the original with saline fluid. Exiting, he quickly walked back to his residence. Later that night, he would inject himself for the first time. This would be repeated over a twice more for a total of three injections (every other day).

A week quickly passed and he noticed no change. His leg felt no better. Further, he was beginning to have some strange side effects. He was sleeping in a lot. He had missed a number of classes because he simply could not get out of bed. Luckily, so far they had been for the most part lecture notes, which he could easily get from one of his friends.

Over the course of the week, he had noticed some secondary characteristic changes that were also hard to dismiss. He had lost some weight and he actually felt a little shorter (this, however, was not possible, and he knew it was just his overly active imagination). Still, he had noticed that he hadn't needed to shave at all in the past week (though, again, due to native ancestry in the family this was not unheard of). What were more worrisome were his emotional mood swings and an increasing tenderness around his chest.

His dismissed much of this until his date with Jennifer Haynes, his girlfriend, and member of the Songbirds cheerleading squad. Like him, she was of Nordic heritage. She, however, stood only five foot six with 34b-24-36 measurements (and coco brown eyes). That night, after getting a little drunk, the two of them headed back to her dorm room as her roommate was out of town.

Barely making it inside, he gently threw her back onto the bed, and the two of them quickly stripped. Not waiting for her to finish, he came up, and the two of them kissed and touched some. With her sweater still on, and almost forgetting a condom (which she supplied at the last minute), he proceeded to enter her.

She, however, unlike him, was very aggressive. She was by no means gentle on his swollen member. Into the moment or not, the stimulation was too much, and he soon realized that he was almost on the verge of ejaculating.

Strangely, he noticed two differences right away. The first was that his girlfriend was a little more aroused than usually and, therefore, more slippery. Second, his erection was not the usual six inches, but seemed to have maxed out at fewer than five. He wondered if he was going through some kind of testosterone fluxuation. This would explain his erection troubles and noticeable lack of facial hair the past week. At first he worried that this might be an erection issue, but being that they were both pretty liquid up, he dismissed it as the effects of alcohol. He, however, had never had this happen to him before. Trying to stop, he held on as long as he could but it was no use, she simply was too into getting herself off. He became to climax. He felt his balls tighten, and his penis begin to pulsate. He worried now that his erection would die and he would not be able to continue. He concluded that he would have to eat her out while he gave his body a chance to recover.

Strangely, though his erection did not die down. He felt hypersensitive, and he had to slow his movements down for a moment, but within a few minutes had begun to slowly pick up the pace again. With him on his back only minutes later, she rode him for what seemed like a good ten minutes and then they switched positions, and he did her from behind, doggy style. Twice more he climaxed, though he did not lose his erection. Now fearful that something was wrong, he began to work at her from a missionary position. It was obvious by now that she was done, she had little interest in sex, and had climaxed herself out. Figuring that he was just super hard and having a hard time ejaculating, she offered to blow him. He agreed. Some ten minutes later, he had his fourth and then, finally a fifth orgasm of the night. On his fifth try he ejaculated. Afterward, while cuddling in bed he worried about what was happening to him.

The next day, he woke up very fatigued. This was not at all common. By the midpoint of the day, however, he had recovered most of his faculties. Wade, however, was not interested in sex. His girlfriend had hinted about heading back to her place again (the truth was he likely being around her but was just not interested in doing it so soon). This was unusual because she usually was the one that had multiple orgasms, while he recovered and enjoyed sex more often than she did. This was not the case that day, however.

That night returning to his room (he did not share his residence); he barely could get off his shoes before he collapsed into a deep sleep. He would not awake from this sleep for a period of some five days.

(Five Days later)

When he finally did emerge from the self induced coma, he felt strangely different.

Pulling himself out of bed, he felt lighter on his feet. Walking past his dresser, he did not seem to be as tall. The room was dark though. Entering his private bathroom, he began to relieve himself and was horrified to find the urine splashing all over the place. Most of it was running down his leg and onto the floor. Looking down, he could not seem to find his penis. Numb, he moved over to his sink and took a glimpse at himself in the mirror.

Starring back at him was the face of a stranger. It was a girl of Hispanic origin. He was no longer six foot two. She was at most around five-seven. Naked, her skin was lightly accented with a mild tan. Her hair was a dark shade of brunet, her eyes deeply brown. She did retain his high cheek bones, but her lips were much fuller and her eyes were rounder. If he had to guess, he would say that his body mirrored that of his girlfriend's, with one exception, he actually had a bigger bust. He had to be at least a c-cup (though likely 34, again a guess, and not a very good one).

Cleaning himself (herself) up, he tried to get a hold of himself. This, however, was no small task given the gravity of the situation. Still, with some deep breathing and a drink or two, he convinced himself that he was not dreaming. Returning to his room, this was only confirmed by the stained sheets that covered his bed. Horrified, he quickly removed the flesh and blood filled substance into a trash bag. The stench was almost unbearable, but strangely, did not cover great distances. It seemed to be his; it was as if he had emerged from some sort of cocoon. This was very creepy.

Scared, he gathered some clothes, and proceeded to try and remove the evidence from his residence. It took two trash bags, and a disguise. He wore a pair of gray sweats, a matching hoddie, and a black pair of shades.

The walk to the dumpster was less than two floors and an exit. He, however, wanted the stuff as far away as remotely possible. He, therefore, walked a three blocks to an all female residence. Dumping his crash, he turned and made his way quickly back to his residence. On the way he could not help but notice that his fellow male students seemed to be looking at him differently. In sports, he had gotten used to the occasional gay athlete. This was different. They were actively checking him out, without fear of a reprisal. Somewhat scared, he made it inside after only a sexist comment or two. Sneaking upstairs, he made his way back into his room. Shutting and locking the door behind him, he found himself profoundly tired again. Taking a seat on his bed, within minutes he was asleep again.

Waking up early the next morning, he rose from bed believing the experience from the night before to have been a dream (or a nightmare). To his utter surprise, it was not. He was a girl, a Latina at that. A real hottie, strangely though, he did not get aroused from watching himself (or herself). Further, the disconnected feeling between his new body and his consciousness was now gone. It felt like it was his body.

It suddenly became apparent that he had injected himself with the wrong virus. The prototype formulating substance had reconstructed his body into that of a young female (and from his brief observations, he believed he was fully female). This was clearly a transgender person's dream. He did not share there deep disconnect with their original body. He liked being a male. Wade enjoyed being six foot two and being very muscular. This was now all gone.

The figure that he now possessed was still trim and tone, but was much curvier. Further, he was much shorter. Finally, the balance of his body had been shifted from his upper body to his hips. His top was weighted with what were unmistakably 34c(s) but the balk of his body seemed to be in his thighs and buttocks. Finally, the hair was somewhat bothersome. He had liked buzz cuts. This girl (now him) had long, straight hair that was silky soft and hung just above her curved buttocks.

Now the only question remaining was how he was going to real with this situation. He had two problems. The first was that he had missed over a week of school. The second, his identity as Wade Cole had basically been uprooted, and he was now an anonymous girl (without a history). It was obvious that his football career was over, now the only thing left for him to do was to figure a way to stay in school (and maybe see if the procedure could be reverse, though he doubted it).

Not at all sure who he could trust, his mind kept on returning to the one person that he did not want to call, his girlfriend, Jennifer Haynes. She was the only one that could possible understand his situation, she, however, was unlikely to believe him without some significant convincing. He was unsure of this.

(later that day)

Not at all sure how to contact him, he decided that it would be better for his first contact to come from a manner that was as impersonal as possible. He left a text message on her cell-phone. It was a simple message. It had simply requested that the two of them meet up in the library after her psychology class. He had originally planned to claim a family emergency (to explain his absence), but had decided that maybe the truth was the best option.

So he waited and waited. It soon became obvious that she was either not going to show or she was long delayed. Either way, it became obvious with each passing moment that she was likely very pissed at him. She likely thought he had blown her off for the better part of a week. One he was just about to get up and leave she appeared in the doorway. Taking a look at the girl, who was still in sweats and a hoddie, she mumbled, "Sorry, I guess I must have gotten something wrong."

"Wait," he said in a uniquely feminine voice.

Turning around, his girlfriend had a puzzled look on her face. "Yes?"

Pause. "I think we need to talk, J'i ," he replied.

She was a little taken back. It was obvious that she was puzzled by this girl, someone very foreign to her situation was using her pet name. This was a name that only Wade knew and used. Well, in truth, a couple of her girl friends knew it as well, but they never called her by it. They always referred to her as Jen, Jenna, or simply J.

Pause. "Who the hell are you and where is Wade?"

Looking down, he blushed. "I think the more appropriate question might be, who am I, J'i?"

Pause. "Huh?" She looked at me, obviously seeing a girl she had never seen before. "Look, I just going to ask, are you some kind of stalker or something." It was obvious that Jennifer was scared, puzzled, and wondering where her boyfriend had disappeared to.

A moment of silence passed between the two of them. Having enough, Jenna began to turn her back to leave. He stopped her cold. "It's me J'I, it's Wade."

Turning around to face him, it was obvious that she was pissed. She had to be thinking that this girl had some connections to me, and that she was playing her.

"Look this isn't funny anymore, I am going to walk out of her, and report this to the campus police. Where is Wade...you bitch, if you've hurt him, I will..." She came closer and this surprised Wade. She was very intense.

Eying her back, Jennifer back away again, and that is when he remarked again, "I swear baby, it is me. Do you remember when we did it after getting back from a night out drinking?"

Stopping again, she braced herself against the door. "You are one sick bitch, how'd you get a hold of that, has Wade been seeing you too or something? You would like that wouldn't you. Or have you just been stalking us? What type of sick twisted game are you playing, girl?"

Pause. "I am serious, I am Wade."

"Sure."

He was at a loss for what to say. It was obvious that he did not want her to leave though. Thinking quickly he came to the sudden realization that he would have to give her something of deep historical significance or upon walking out of here she was likely to report him to campus security.

"Remember, when we first got together. You used to talk about your family a lot. You seemed to be so found of your father who died in the gulf war (this was her biological father and not her step-father)?"

Stunned, her eyes remained fixed on him (who was now a female). Taking a seat, she looked up, tears flowing, she lightly whispered, "What is going on?" At this point, almost out of a ritualistic need, he proceeded to spill the details of his last week. At first, she seemed to not believe him at all. She was more interested in where a girl like this got her information from. However, with each passing moment, he filled her with too many details to be ignored. It became apparent that he (now a she) was telling the truth. She still, however, was very perplexed at how it was scientifically possible. That is when he produced the schematics that showed the DNA reformulation process. Based on the university logo and genuine bond paper it was obvious that this was no forgery. The girl (formerly Wade) was telling the truth.