Routine Procedure

When Nicole stepped out of the shower her dick was no longer hard, but I could see the obvious plumpness of it, a definite sign that she did jack off. She took one glance at me and started laughing. I had my boxers pulled up past my belly button in an attempt to get the crotch area tight enough against my pussy so the pad would stay in place. When she finally stopped laughing and I explained the situation, she started giggling again and said.

"Sweetie, I don't think that's going to work, hang on a sec."

She walked out of the bathroom and into our bedroom while I continued to adjust my boxers. When she came back, she said.

"Here, try these. I bought them for you just in case."

She tossed me a little unopened package that contained three new pair of panties. One was light pink in color, one was light purple, and the other was a light shade of baby blue.

"Panties? You want me to wear panties?"

"It's either panties or the plug. You decide."

I released a long breath in frustration, rolled my eyes, and pulled the baby blue pair out. Panties and a maxi pad were definitely another hit to my masculinity, but at least they were soft and comfortable. The flushness against my pussy gave me the confidence that the pad would stay in place.

My blue jeans didn't seem to fit the same as they used to. They were too big in some places and too small in others. Seeing as my hips were growing wider, I had to pull my pants over my hips and higher on my waist to get them to button. It resulted in looking like I was wearing some nut huggers or something. I know, ironic right? Nut huggers with no nuts. Dicklessness and nutlessness. They were also tighter around my ass but felt baggier everywhere else.

Nicole tried to convince me that my new moobs weren't that noticable under my t-shirt, but I still decided to wrap my chest up in an ace bandage just in case. I also wore a shirt under one of my thicker polo shirts to be sure they wouldn't be noticed.

Throughout all of our changes, one thing certainly stayed the same. It took Nicole longer to get ready than it took me, even with the added time of wrapping my moobs up and trying to get my clothes to fit properly. She usually didn't wear a ton of makeup, but this time she had it caked on in an attempt to hide her shadow. She complained about her hair being too stringy and not having any bounce. She also had the same problem I had with her clothes not fitting right. Her biggest complaint was her bra. She was down a cup size and the band and straps were getting too tight.

When she finally declared herself ready to go, I was a little shocked at her appearance. She wasn't wearing her usual pantsuit or business attire. She wore a pretty floral dress that I couldn't remember ever seeing her in. Her shoulders looked a little broad and her arms looked a little more muscular and veiny, but she still looked beautiful to me. She managed to do something right with her hair because it looked nice. Her makeup was painted on fairly thick with bright colors, unlike the natural look she usually goes with.

I didn't question her about her makeover, I completely understood it. She was a woman who wanted to look pretty. I just felt bad that she felt the need to go through those extra steps to fight her growing insecurities. She even wore more accessories than normal. Earrings, bracelets, a necklace, a blingy belt, matching purse, and high heels that she could barely cram her feet in.

Unfortunately for me, guys didn't have accessories to make them appear more masculine. We just had clothes and that was pretty much it. I guess you could include facial hair as an accessory but at this point mine was getting thin and patchy like a teenager going through puberty. I wore a ball cap but that was a needed accessory to hide my hair that was almost long enough to put into a man bun. My thick leather belt was hidden under my untucked shirt in an attempt to cover my ass and hips. My only other manly accessory was my work boots but even those were a size or two too big.

I wanted to stop by a drive thru for breakfast on the way to Dr. Gallagher's clinic but Nicole reminded me that we were supposed to fast for 12 hours. Then the things they did to me at the clinic made me realize the money they gave me for joining the test group wasn't near enough. That lawsuit settlement couldn't get here fast enough.

Not only was I poked and prodded, I had to strip completely naked for them to take accurate measurements. It was so humiliating, but not as humiliating as the gynaecological tests. That cold metal spectrum... speculate... speculum...or whatever in the hell they called that fucking torture device was horrible. It was so cold, uncomfortable, unpleasant and probably a ton of other words that started with the letters un.

When they finally finished with all of the exams, I was directed to wait in a consultation room for Dr. Gallagher to speak with me. I still wasn't dressed yet, but at least they gave me a hospital gown to wear. As I waited, I wondered what all they put Nicole through? Was her appointment going as badly as mine?

When Dr. Gallagher came into the room, he held a folder that looked to be full of paperwork. Nurse Vicky, from the hospital, was also with him. She directed me to sit on the examination table, where she started taking my vitals. It was like the fourth time they checked my blood pressure, heart rate eyes, ears, and reflexes. As Nurse Vicky examined me. Dr. Gallagher pulled a few pictures from the folder and placed them on the lighted box that hung on the wall. He turned around and said.

"So...we have a patient with the birth name of Kelvin Williams. Is this the name you would like to be called? Or do you have a different preferred name?"

My memory took me back to the hospital when he asked my roommate the same question. I knew it was our names that got mixed up.

"It's Kelvin, I'm still Kelvin."

"Very well Mr. Kelvin. If you change your name or preferred pronouns at any point, please let us know. So I'd like to go over your transition process at this time and I'd be happy to answer any questions."

"Okay, sounds good."

"First, I'd like to go over these images with you. So in this image here, you can clearly see your reproductive organs. They have completely transformed into that of a biological female. These are your ovaries, your fallopian tubes, your uterus, your cervix, your vaginal tunnel...."

Seeing the internal images of my lower abdomen threw me for a fucking loop. I don't know why I was so naive about it, but for some reason it all surprised me. I knew I had a vagina capable of getting wet and having a period, but everything else attached to it? I had a fucking uterus and ovaries! It was fucking crazy! I'd been telling myself I was still a man and that I was still mostly manly, but could I still say that? According to those images I was mostly womanly.

I could feel my emotions welling up inside me as I traced my fingers along my lower abdomen like if I could feel where my ovaries and uterus were at. Unable to stop it, the dam broke and tears poured from my eyes. Nurse Vicky gave me a side hug and ran her hand up and down my back in an attempt to calm me down.

"It's okay sweetie. Let it all out."

"I'm....I'm sorry. I feel like I can't control my emotions anymore and I cry all the time now."

Dr. Gallagher placed his hand on my shoulder and said.

"That's completely understandable and very common with our other Y2X patients. You see, there are a lot more difference between men and women than just their genitalia."

"So is this how it's going to be for the next few months? Crying every day?"

"Oh no, not at all. You need to understand that your hormones are at war with each other right now. Every thing is so new and changing in your body. You are going through a second puberty and your feminine hormones are equivalent to those of a teenaged female. Your natural adult male instincts are overwhelmed with confusion as you try to process your emotions. It's probably worse for you than our other patients because you didn't choose this path like they have. But don't worry too much about it, you will learn how to deal with everything in the coming weeks as you continue your transformation."

"So does all of this mean I'm a real woman now? Can I get the reversal treatment yet?"

"We don't like to categorize people in that manner, real woman or real man. Whatever gender you prefer is who and what you are in our eyes. Medically speaking, yes, you would now be considered female. Unfortunately you are not at the point in your transition to safely receive Y2X. Your transformation isn't even halfway complete. The Y2X virus needs to run it's full course."

"Medically speaking? Does that mean I could get pregnant?"

"Yes, you are now fertile. Which reminds me, I have a prescription for you."

Dr. Gallagher handed me a little box. I read the name of the prescription in confusion.

"Loestrin?"

"Yes, birth control. If you're going to continue being sexually active I would advise you to take this."

I tried to deny it by saying

"Sexually active? What makes you think I'm having sex?"

"Kelvin, we can tell from the examination, but don't worry, we are not judging you in anyway. In fact, we think it's great that you and Nicole are exploring yourselves, but you will need to be careful moving forward. Within the next few days she will be capable of impregnating you. It's important for you to know that we wouldn't be able to administer X2Y until after a pregnancy. Do you understand?"

I nodded my head as I fought back tears once again. I believed it was true, but I couldn't fathom the idea of getting pregnant. It felt so unreal.

Dr. Gallagher went on to explain that I would most likely experience a "heavy flow" for five to seven days during my first period. He even warned me that my cramping could get worse and that I may get even more emotional, which or course made me get emotional again! Fucking teenaged girl hormones!

Dr. Gallagher was definitely more pleased with my breast growth than I was. Apparently I was more developed than most of the other Y2X patients. He informed me that I was already entering Tanner Stage 3, which meant I could expect to grow rather large breasts. So yeah,whoopie!!

For the rest of the day, I was basically in a bit of a funk. Everything was just happening so fucking fast. The Midol helped with the cramps and bloating, but I still felt like shit. I cried a few times for no real reason. I had to turn down Nicole's advancements a few times. I just felt gross and in no mood for sex. I almost gave in when she told me it would help with the cramps, but in the end I thought she was just saying that to get into my pants.

You would think after the long, stressful day that I had, I would have went to sleep early. Unfortunately my mind continued to race deep into the night. How was I going to get through the work week? And how much longer could I keep this whole thing a secret?

Chapter 7

Work sucked, especially being on my period all week! I continued to wear the panties Nicole bought me so that I could use a maxi pad. Unfortunately one maxi pad wasn't enough to last through the day. I had to change the damn thing every two or three hours. I knew they weren't supposed to be flushed down the toilet but I was too scared someone would find a bloody pad if I dropped them in the trashcan. I was using the men's restroom so there would have been no explanation for it. I ended up wrapping my soiled pads in a wad of toilet paper to discreetly drop them in the dumpster outside. I was also constantly paranoid one of the fresh pads hidden in my pocket might fall out. Thankfully that never happened. I was also thankful that my peeing funnel never fell out of my cargo pocket either. I didn't even know a contraption like that existed until Nicole brought it home for me. That little device was a life saver and allowed me to pee while standing up.

I ended up biting the bullet and used tampons in the evenings when I got home from work. At first it was an odd experience inserting them and taking them out, but it didn't take long to get used to it. If I'm being honest, I actually preferred the tampons but the pads fit more discreetly in my pocket. Plus I was worried about damaging the cylindrical objects if they were in my pocket while doing manual labor. Without a replacement, I would have been up shit creek...or blood creek...or period creek...

or whatever the creek was called when a woman needed a tampon and didn't have one.

It was also hot as hell working in the warehouse and lumber yard, which I found very annoying. The ace bandage wrapped tightly around my growing moobs was so hot and uncomfortable, but it was a necessary evil. Not only did the wrap hide my moobs, it also gave the illusion that I still had some bulk. By the end of each day it was sweaty and disgusting so I couldn't wait to get home to unwrap myself. God it was such a relief to free them.

The effects that Y2X had on my brute strength was definitely starting to show. Those pressure treated 4x4's along with some of the other heavier building supplies seemed to get heavier every day. The fork lifts helped, but sometimes you just had to throw something up on your shoulder and carry it. It was very frustrating but I was bound and determined to do my job.

As each day passed, my coworkers certainly noticed the change in my appearance. Thankfully they didn't pick up on my feminization, but they still asked questions. "Are you okay? You look sickly". It bothered me to be thought of as sickly. I should have been thrilled that none of them said I looked girly...but sickly? It made me feel self conscious.

The fact that most of my coworkers seemed genuinely worried about my well being gave me hope. Maybe they would still treat me with respect once the truth came out. We were all friends right? I'd like to think I wouldn't treat any of them differently if the roles were reversed, but I was still worried that was only wishful thinking.

Throughout the week, I managed to keep my emotions in check while at work. I just tried to focus on what I had to get done instead of dwelling on my circumstances. I just bottled it all up and let it spew like a shaken up soda bottle when I got into my truck after clocking out. Unfortunately on Friday afternoon I lost my cool. A truck load of windows were delivered to the warehouse and they all had to be hand unloaded. Several of us jumped in to tackle the job, but I struggled with it. I used to be able to heft two at a time like everyone else, but at that point in time I could barely carry one of them. I felt like I was getting in the way more than I was helping. It frustrated me to no end. Why did we continue to carry those heavy windows by hand when hand trucks would have made the job so much easier? As I was about to go grab a set of hand trucks, Clint decided it was a good time to bust my chops.

"Damn Kelvin. You're slacking, pull your skirt up and carry your weight. Quit acting like a little girl."

Then the other guys started to mock me. In nasally and whiney voices, they started repeating my complaints.

"They're too heavy..... Why can't we use the hand trucks....It's too hot....My arms are burning... Blah, blah, blah..."

I balled my hands into fists and released an irritated growl in frustration. As I felt my eyes grow watery, I said.

"You know what, fuck it.... If my help isn't good enough, then unload the truck your fucking selves!"

I stormed away, but stopped momentarily when I heard Clint say.

"Damn, what the fuck got his panties in a wad?"

Panties in a wad?? Did he know I was wearing panties? Did he see them? Could he see my panty line or something? I knew it was only a saying that he used all the time when someone was acting like a little bitch, but did he somehow know? Tears started rolling down my face so instead of turning around to confront him with a witty comeback like usual, I ran to the restroom and locked myself in a stall.

As I dried my eyes and calmed myself down, I took my phone out to text Nicole.

Me: I can't keep this charade up. I think it's time to come clean with everything.

Nicole: I understand babe. I'm having a rough day too. I think it's time to spill the beans. Why don't you invite Clint over this weekend. I'll text Emmy to confirm what day works best for them."

As I exited the restroom, Clint had just walked by so I got his attention.

"Hey Clint, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure man, but what in the hell was that little hissy fit about?"

"I'm sorry man, look, I have some......some um....some health issues going on."

"Health issues? So there is something going on with you. What's going on? Is it serious? You look pretty sickly man."

There it was again, sickly. The word everyone had been using to describe my appearance. God why did it make me feel so self conscious. I played it off like it didn't bother me, then replied.

"It's not serious, well maybe it is kinda serious but I'm not going to die or anything. It's just going to take me a little while for things to get back to normal."

"Is that why you've been extra moody all week?"

I snapped back.

"Moody? Are you fucking serious? You think I've been moody?"

"Well.....yeah, like right now. What's up with you man? What's going on?"

"Damn it, yeah sorry but it's been a frustrating few weeks. I don't want to get into it right now, but I'll go over everything this weekend. Nicole and Emmy are making plans for the two of you to come over."

"Alright man. Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

"Yeah, eventually. It's some pretty fucked up shit though."

"Damn, that sucks. Tell you what, why don't you go ahead and call it a day. It looks like you could use some rest. It's only an hour and a half till quitin' time anyway."

I thanked him for letting me leave early, then I almost hugged him. I literally had to stop myself from wrapping my arms around him. Like I completely forgot my natural instincts of a fist bump or hand shake.

It was such a relief to get home and unwrap my boobs. Yes, you read that correctly, BOOBS! That would be the only way to describe them at this point in time. They were no longer moobs or pecs, they were boobs, boobies, tits, titties, breasts,puppies, or any other word used to describe a woman's chest. Other than a couple of long hairs that remained around my areolas, my boobs looked just like a natural woman's. They were soft, yet firm and perky. They bounced and swayed with each step, making it impossible to forget they were there and my pink areolas grew lighter in color and wider in circumference.

On the bright side, my boobs were fucking nice to look at. I mean seriously, I had a great rack. I even started to silently hope they would get bigger, which I blamed on my teenaged female hormones. They had already gotten bigger than Nicole's ever were, and they were still growing so I couldn't even wear one of her bra's! They just poked right out there, always in my peripheral vision and leading the way everywhere I went. They were still fairly sore and tinder and it hurt like hell when I bumped them against something, which was a common occurrence. But other wise, I was starting to get used to having them.

When Nicole came home, she kissed me like usual, then squeezed my boobs like she'd been doing for the whole week. She slipped her panties off from under her dress, which had become her new norm because she said tucking was so uncomfortable for her. Seeing as I was wrapping my tits up on a daily basis I could definitely understand where she was coming from. She no longer wore her dress pants or pencil skirts. She said they were too tight to hide her bulge. It was somewhat odd to see her wearing pretty dresses all the time now. They all flared out around her waist to give the illusion of wider hips. That feature also helped hide her bulge. When I asked how her day went, she replied.