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DNA II by Stephanie 1. Chapter Cold and discomfort welcomed Paul as he struggled awake. Outside, dawn was breaking. Stiffly, he sat upright and watched the sun clear the hills on the horizon. As he got up he felt an unfamiliar weight on his chest shift. His eyes drifted over his large, firm breasts. He had hoped that it had all been some insane dream. That he still had his own tall, muscular body. Not a half female, half male one. He could still remember vividly how the horror had started. He had woken just two days previously and everything had been right with the world. He had been a successful lawyer, with a big house and a hefty bank balance. And he had just spent the night making love to a stunningly beautiful young woman. Despite the fact that she was not his girlfriend he had hoped to see her again. But not nearly as soon as he did. He saw her face reflected in the car window. He still found it nearly impossible to believe it was now his. He had been in the bathroom preparing to shave when he first noticed the change. He had rubbed his chin and instead of feeling the usual coarse stubble his hand met soft unblemished skin. And then before his eyes his face had been changed into Julies. The strong masculine features slowly replaced by a woman's fragile beauty. And it was a very beautiful face, but there was no comfort in that. He had always considered himself lucky to have the handsome, slightly rugged looking face he had been born with. Now it was lost, maybe forever. I'll get it back! he told himself angrily. I won't let Anne do this to me. Paul opened the door and climbed out of the car. His body ached from the uncomfortable night he had spent on the back seat. A cool breeze whipped his long blonde hair in front of his eyes. He pushed it out of his face with a curse. He was still unused to keeping such a mass under control. Paul shivered as he remembered his hair turning blonde and almost exploding from his head in a blonde wave. He had searched the hall mirror for any sign of his former self and had then punched the hateful image. That was supposed to bring you seven years bad luck. He had lost everything in just one morning. Just how much more could happen to him? Paul looked up and down the road. It was flat and utterly empty. Which was just the way he wanted it. He wanted as little to do with people as possible while stuck in this form. He gave a huge sigh, feeling his large breasts rise and fall on his chest. Then he got into the driving seat and pulled out the map. His tits even got in the way of this simple operation. How the hell could women deal with the wobbling mountains of flesh on their chests? That was perhaps the worst memory Paul had of that terrible morning. Anne had arrived and was going to help him, or so she had said. As she had been preparing a needle he had felt his chest start to shrink and grow at the same time. His torso had been hard and muscled from all the hours he had spent in the gym. But years of work had just flowed away in seconds. As most of his chest had shrunk to a more dainty frame his eyes had watched in horror as his firm pectorals had grown into soft, large white pillows of flesh. Anne had quickly injected him in the thigh. But it had not been the cure he was desperately hoping for. Anne had injected the DNA altering virus based on a fellow male researcher. The two transforming viruses had met just above his hips and as Anne had hoped been unable to change already altered cells. He was still half male, but no part of him was now unaltered. She could have turned him back, Paul had no doubt about that. She must have found out about him playing around and used her latest discovery to punish him. Anne wouldn't have done that unless there was some way to cure him. She had even used her own lab assistant, Jim, to trap him. The girl he had made love to wasn't Julie after all, but Jim! From the few times he had met Jim he seemed to be a normal guy. There was no way he would have taken a part in Anne's crazed scheme without being sure he could regain his male self. Paul studied the map. If he made good time he should make it to Dr Michael Kingston by that afternoon. He knew that if he was ever to be restored to his former maleness he was going to have to find another biologist who could reverse what Anne Chamberlain had done. A few years back he had represented a Dr. Michael Kingston. He had been charged with stealing other researchers results. Paul knew he had done it and had managed to get him acquitted on a technicality of law. Kingston's reputation, however, was shot to pieces and the last Paul had heard the only job he could get was at a fairly seedy establishment out east. But Anne wasn't going to turn him back for months at least. She would want to have her revenge first. The only chance lay with finding Dr. Kingston. He put away the map and started the car. As he pulled away the stearing wheel felt stiff in his hands and seemed to take a greater effort to turn. His new arms were so weak and had none of the power he had spent so long building up over the years. As the hours passed, Paul's mind wandered. What had possessed Anne to do this to him? Well, I should have known better than to get a scientist pissed at me, he thought. In his urgency to reach his salvation Paul wasn't paying full attention to the car's instruments. He only noticed he was doing over eighty miles per hour when the familiar wail of a police motorcycle started up behind him. An almost irresistible urge to put his foot down went through Paul. But he knew that a car as expensive and recognisable as his would get pursued right into town and he couldn't afford that. Paul pulled over to the side of the road and the cop pulled in front of him. The cop took his time getting off his bike. He's showing me that he calls the shots realised Paul. He had done it himself in court, set your own pace and make the guy on the witness stand follow you. Not the other way round. Paul felt fear building in his stomach. He'd been pulled over before but he didn't feel nearly as confident this time. The cop slowly sauntered over to the car and leaned in towards Paul. He could see his worried looking but still beautiful face reflected in the cop's mirror shades. "Good mornin' miss. You know why I pulled you over?" "Ah, I think I accidentally went over the speed limit. I'm sorry officer, it won't happen again." The cop didn't reply immediately, which only increased Paul's nervousness. He knew he could have destroyed the cop on the witness stand. He had done that so many times with solid witnesses. He just thinks I'm some dumb female, he thought. He decided to try a bit of feminine charm and he smiled nervously. The cop didn't react. Paul hated the mirror shades, he couldn't tell where the man's eyes were looking. But he could give a good guess. "Is this your car, miss?" He asked. "Yes, it's mine." The cop nodded, "Can I see your licence." Paul froze. His license was in the glove compartment, but it was absolutely useless. No way would the cop believe the forty year old man on the license was now a teenaged girl. "I...ah...haven't got it...right here." "I see, where is it." He said in a slightly bored voice. "Well, I...uh...lost it." Paul knew how lame it all sounded. As a lawyer he had seen some poor liars on the witness stand and his excuse sounded as bad as the worst of them. The cop obviously didn't believe any of it either. "What would you like to bet that if I ran this car through the computer it would come up stolen." Paul's jaw worked silently. "It isn't, I swear!" He finally exclaimed. The cop was silent for a few moments. "Well, as I see it, you have two choices. Either I call in and see if this car is registered in your name, and we both know it isn't. Or...you can suck me off." "What!!" Paul exclaimed, he couldn't believe what he had just heard. "I'm serious. Suck me off and I'll let you go." The cop watched the pretty girl sweat. She was acting as guilty as hell. Probably stolen the car from some rich idiot she had fucked the night before. It was his casual attitude to regulations that had landed him the post of traffic cop on a near deserted strip of road in the first place. It was so dismal and boring he was entitled to have a little fun now and then. "Well?" Paul was frantic. If he was arrested for theft Anne could easily come after him to bail him. God only knows what she would turn him into for trying to escape. He had to stay away from her at all costs. "Alright," he said quietly. "What was that?" asked the cop playfully. Got her, he thought. "I said alright," Paul answered in a firmer voice. "Say it, tell me what you're going to do." "I-I'm going to suck your c-cock," Paul managed to say. The phrase seemed alien in his mouth. The cop smiled. "Move over to the passenger seat and open the door." Paul shifted over and opened the door. The cop walked around; he was now facing the road and would be able to see anything coming in either direction, long before it arrived. He unbuckled his pants and dropped them to the floor. "Now, missy. Don't try any funny business. If you pull a fast one I'll have you busted for assault. Understand?" Paul gave a small nod. He was watching the bulge in the cop's boxer shorts. In a few moments he was going to have to suck it into his mouth. He was going to have to lick this man to a climax. The cop looked down. "Now pull down my shorts and give me the best blow job of my life." Paul's hands shook as he reached up to the waistband on the shorts. He could feel the heat from the cop's body against his fingers. Trying not to think about what he was about to do he pulled the shorts down. His eyes locked onto the cop's semi-erect cock. Paul started to rebel. I can't do this! he thought. The cop must have seen Paul was ready to bolt and gripped the sides of his head, taking bunches of Paul's golden hair in each fist. Slowly but surely he began to bring Paul's head closer to his cock. Paul felt the strength in the cop's grasp and he knew that his own female frame couldn't resist it. Then his mouth was just an inch from the cop's penis. "Suck it!" commanded the cop. Paul could feel the heat radiating from the cop's engorged organ. Paul moved his mouth over the rapidly growing cock and closed his lips around the bulbous head. The cop pulled Paul's head down and his mouth was suddenly full of hot prick. Paul's mind was full of revulsion and he decided to get it over with as fast as possible. He started moving his head up and down the hard pole, rubbing his tongue around the sensitive head each time he reached it. It was all he could do to stop himself gagging on it. But the fear of being beaten to a pulp managed to stop him throwing up on the cop. The cop started moaning "Yes," over and over. So Paul assumed he was doing something right. The cop's hand dropped to one of Paul's breasts and roughly caressed it through the thin silk of the blouse. "Open your blouse," ordered the cop. Paul fumbled with the buttons and managed to open his blouse enough for the cop's hand to slip inside and around his breast. The feeling of intimate contact that Paul was getting from the mauling caused a reaction in his body. Despite himself, his own cock started to stiffen and his nipples pushed out into the soft bra holding his ample breasts. He was reacting like any slut! Paul was absolutely horrified by his body's reaction. The cop reached inside the bra and rubbed the obvious signs of arousal. He smiled. "You really wanted it, didn't you? To feel my meat in your mouth. I bet your pussy is dripping from all the attention you're getting." Paul felt a fresh surge of panic. If the cop found out that the girl sucking him off had a dick there would be no telling what he would do to Paul. He had to bring him off now. He reached up and grasped the cop's testicles and started to gently squeeze them in time to his pumping. This seemed to do the trick and the cop quickly built to bursting point. Just before he came he released Paul's tit and held on tight to Paul's head. The cop strained and then hot, salty cum exploded into Paul's mouth. Try as he might he couldn't pull away and he knew he had to swallow it. He almost gagged as it went down, mostly because he knew what he was swallowing. At last, the cop let him go and Paul retreated to the far side of the car. The cop took the opportunity to slip into the car next to him. "That was good. You must have licked a lot of cocks in your time." Paul kept quiet. Wasn't he going to leave? The cop continued, "You really are a cute piece of ass. I could tell your pussy was wet while you sucked me off. I could smell it." "I doubt that," Paul said. Please leave me alone! his mind screamed. "You're really turned on. Let me give you what we both want." His hand found its way to Paul's knee. Surely, he couldn't be ready to go again? Paul knew this guy was going to play with him for hours and wasn't going to let up until he had fucked what he thought was a girl. The hand started moving up Paul's leg towards his crotch. He had to get away. Without any warning Paul drove his elbow as hard as he could into the cop's stomach and then scrambled out of the car. If he could hide in the undergrowth he should be safe. The cop recovered much more quickly than Paul had expected. He ran after Paul shouting, "I'll kill you for that, you bitch!" With his old body he could have knocked the guy clean out. In his old body he would never have ended up in a situation like this. The cop quickly covered the ground between them and grabbed Paul from behind. A hand dug deep into one of Paul's soft breasts. The other covered his mouth. "You are going to regret that," said the cop. "Now I won't be so nice with you." His hand left Paul's tit and journeyed downwards. Paul knew where it was going, perhaps he could use this to his advantage. The cop had already regained his erection. He found this young thief a real turn on. He wondered if she was a virgin. His hand disappeared under the waistband of her pants and touched her crotch. For a few seconds he couldn't understand what he felt there. Not a soft pussy, but a cock and balls? She was a he! Paul bit deeply into the cop's hand and drove his elbow into the man's stomach again. The cop howled in pain and Paul ran at full speed for his car. His breasts hurt as they bounced around on his chest, but he ignored the pain. He had to get away! The cop spent several seconds clasping his hand in pain and shock. That couldn't be a man, she looked too good. He looked at his hand, the transvestite had drawn blood with his bite. Anger flared through him and he turned around just in time to see the big breasted man leap into the car. He charged the car and it just missed him as it pulled away. He watched it speed away down the road. Part of him wanted to chase it and arrest the freak. But the rest of him was so disgusted at being sucked off by a man he decided to let it go. Besides if he arrested him now the stories he would tell would probably finish the cop's career for good. He walked slowly back to his bike to get the small first aid kit. At least the bite wasn't that big. A few days and it'd be okay. In the car Paul was anxiously looking back for signs of pursuit. It was over an hour before he managed to convince himself he was free of the cop. He wondered whether he had infected him with the Julie DNA virus. He quite liked the idea. Now I know why the idea appealed to Anne, he thought. His mind kept flicking back to what the cop had made him do and eventually he had to stop by the road side to throw up. Several thankfully uneventful hours passed before the first signs of habitation came into view. Soon he was deep into the small city. He dug out his old case notes. Dr. Kingston had moved here after the trial and had told Paul where he was working. It was another hour before he found the address. He was convinced he had gone to the wrong address. You couldn't have a research facility in a rundown office block. But the name above the small reception foyer was correct. Quince Biochemicals. Now all he had to do was find Kingston and he was saved. He tried and failed to get rid of a nagging doubt in his mind. His ex-girlfriend Dr. Anne Chamberlain was a very intelligent woman. What if Dr. Kingston couldn't recreate her research? What if he couldn't find the cure? Then he'd be stuck as a circus freak forever. He couldn't go back. He had to go on and hope Dr. Kingston was able and willing to help. 2. Chapter The reception area was fairly small and occupied by only two other people, a receptionist in her late thirties and an absolute mountain of a man. He was a tall, wide and heavily muscled African-American. Paul guessed he was security, though he wasn't wearing any sort of uniform. Paul stepped nervously up to the receptionist. She looked up from her computer terminal and said, "Welcome to Quince Biochemicals. Can I help you?" "Yes, I'm looking for Doctor Kingston." Paul's feminine voice still sounded way too high to himself and he unconsciously cleared his throat. The receptionist frowned. "I don't recognise the name. Hold on, I'll just check our records." She tapped at her computer for a few moments. "No, I'm sorry. I have no record of a Doctor Kingston." Paul's heart missed a beat. "When did he leave? Did he give a forwarding address?" The receptionist shook her head. "If your friend had worked here he would be in our records. But we have never employed anyone by that name." Paul was certain he had come to the right place and he knew Kingston had at least been here. The receptionist must have got it wrong. "Could I speak to someone in charge." "I am sorry, miss. But everyone is busy right now." Paul was starting to panic by now. Kingston HAD to be there. He was the only one who could help Paul regain his fully male shape. "I know he's here! I have to see him. It's a matter of life and death!" The security guard spoke for the first time. "Look, the lady said he ain't here. Now leave before I throw you out." Paul had dealt with this sort of people before. The trick was to threaten lawsuits, not violence. They wouldn't want to risk a lawsuit and they would usually pass the buck to their superior. "You lay one hand on me and I'll sue you and this company for every cent it's got!" The guard advanced on him. Paul stood his ground and tried to hide the fear he felt. The man was huge; he would have dwarfed even Paul's old body. But he seemed to be twice as tall as Paul's new half-female body. "Are you going to leave?" "No. I demand to speak your boss." "Fair enough," said the guard and without any warning picked Paul up and put him over one broad shoulder. With one arm securely around Paul's waist the guard headed for the door. "Put me down!" he shouted. His voice sounded slightly hysterical to his own ears. This wouldn't have happened if he'd had his commanding male voice. In frustration he beat his hands against the guard's back. Why would no one take him seriously anymore? The guard left the reception and took Paul into an alley next to the building. Paul felt fear building up in him as he remembered his encounter with the cop. What if the guard was going to try the same thing? The guard removed Paul from his shoulder and put him down against the wall. The huge black man towered over Paul, effectively boxing him in. "Now I don't know what that was about. But if I were you I'd stay away from here in future. I don't want a pretty young girl like you getting hurt." That sounded more like a warning than a threat to Paul. "I understand. But I have to find him. It's very important!" The guard sighed. "You are not listening to me. He isn't here." He's lying, thought Paul. "Okay, I hear you. I must have got the wrong address." The guard gave a broad smile. "That must be it. I won't delay you any longer." With that he stepped back and Paul gladly made his way out of the alley. He started the car and drove off before the guard changed his mind. The guard made a mental note of the license plate as Paul left. His superiors were not going to like this new complication. He sighed and re-entered the building. Paul had only gone a couple of blocks before he parked the car again. So near and yet so far. He had to get in that building and find Dr. Kingston. Probably they hadn't wanted to disturb him with some lunatic off the street. Carefully he made his way back to the building. From across the street he could see two entrances to the Quince Biochemicals building. There was the main entrance and a larger side door in the alley which was probably for deliveries. This was pointless. Even if he did get in there he would be stopped long before he could find Kingston. If he couldn't get to Michael Kingston, he was going to have to wait for the doctor to come to him. Hopefully those two doors were the only way in and out of the building. Presumably Michael didn't live there and would be heading home at some point. All Paul had to do was wait. Paul hid round the corner of another building where he could watch for Kingston without been seen by any of the guards. The next few hours were fairly nerve wracking. He could just see some street gang discovering him and deciding to have a little fun. He missed the security his old body used to give him. This new one was just built for looking good. It wasn't practical at all. He even had to be careful not to crush his breasts just looking around the corner. It was close to eight o'clock before Michael Kingston finally appeared. It was starting to get dark and Paul was on the verge of giving up. Paul almost leapt for joy when he saw him. There was his salvation! Paul started following him, his heart in his mouth. How should he approach him? Kingston stopped by a car and rummaged in his pockets for his keys. It was now or never. "Excuse me, Dr. Kingston." Michael Kingston looked up and looked at Paul. "Yes? Can I help you?" he said in a guarded voice. "You probably don't recognise me, but we worked together a few years back." Michael was quiet for a moments. "Are you sure? You barely look old enough to be out of school. Where did you meet me?" "I helped clear your name in your legal case. Look, I really need your help and I think you'll be fascinated in my problem." Michael turned and unlocked the car. "I'm sure we've never met. Now I have to go, I'm late." He doesn't want to know, thought Paul. If he'll only listen for a few minutes! Michael opened the door of his car and climbed in. That car has central locking, noticed Paul. When Michael had unlocked one door he had unlocked them all. Wasting no time, Paul shot round the car and leapt into the passenger seat. "What do you think you're doing? Get out!" shouted Michael. "Shut up, or I'll start screaming rape." This seemed to quiet Michael down as he realised what sort of situation that would put him in. "Okay, now you must have heard about Dr. Anne Chamberlain and the sort of research she is doing." "Um, yeah. So what?" He was obviously confused about the sudden twist in the conversation by Paul. "She's my ex-girlfriend." "Your...ex-girlfriend. I didn't know she was a lesbian." "She isn't." "But you just said..." Started Michael, totally lost by now. "She is doing research into modifying a person's DNA by introducing an engineered, but harmless, virus into their bodies." Michael shrugged. "So are a lot of people. Any breakthrough is still decades away." "No, Anne's done it. And she used me as her guinea pig. In fact she infected me with two different viruses. Below the waist I'm still male." Michael's eyes bulged a little at that statement. "I'm Paul Roberts, the lawyer that saved your ass." "Oh, this is ridiculous. Get out of my car now!" "If that's the way you want it." Paul wound down the window. "Help! Rape!" he screamed out of the car window. "Christ! Okay, okay, I'll listen to you." Paul smiled. "Right, lets go back to your place and I'll give you some more proof. You do live alone?" "Yeah." The rest of the drive was in silence. Paul looked at Michael, was he really going to be able to help him? Anne was near the top of her profession while Kingston was working in some seedy establishment. Of course, that could be because of his poor reputation and it might have nothing to do with his actual ability. But what choice did he have? At least Kingston would help him. Michael's apartment was in a more upmarket part of the city. He didn't say anything until both he and Paul were indoors. "Okay, now what the hell is this all about?" "A few days ago my girlfriend, Anne Chamberlain, found out I was seeing other women. She deliberately infected me with two DNA viruses. So my top half is female and the bottom half is male." "You're mad," whispered Michael. In response Paul started removing his blouse. Michael started to protest but Paul ignored him. He didn't like having to do this at all, but he had to give some proof or Michael was going to consider him a lunatic. He could feel Michael's eyes crawling over his breasts. He hated them. Every slightest movement they made reminded him of what Anne had done to him. She had stripped him of his near perfect male body and replaced it with feminine softness. Next he undid his pants and dropped them to the floor. He was wearing matching panties, which did nothing to disguise the male genitalia he possessed. "My God, you are a man," gasped Michael. "I'd never have guessed." "You haven't been listening," snapped Paul. "My top half IS female now. Based on Anne's niece, I believe. The bottom half is that of some lab assistant of hers. If you ran DNA tests on skin from my arm and my leg you'd get two different results." Michael shook his head. "It's impossible. Technology like that does not exist." Paul sighed and pointed to just below his belly button. "Look here. There's the join." Michael bent closer to get a better look. The skin beneath a certain point had a different texture and was just slightly darker than the skin on Paul's upper body. Maybe there was some truth in this crazy story. He stood up and Paul started to put his clothes back on. "I still can't believe you were Paul Roberts." "I am Paul Roberts! Remember the night before we went to court. You wanted to throw yourself on the mercy of the court and confess all. It took me several hours and a bottle of whisky to convince you to trust me." "So what do you want from me?" "I want you to cure me," said Paul. "I can't go back to Anne, she did this to me in the first place." "Cure you! I haven't the first clue how that virus works." A thought struck him. "Is it contagious?" "You only get it from intimate contact. You're okay, you won't start growing breasts." Michael regarded the unwilling transsexual in front of him. "This is what I'll do. Tomorrow I'll take two samples from you and run a simple gene test on you. If they match you're out of here, okay?" Paul nodded, "Fair enough. And when they don't match you'll start looking for a cure." "It's a deal. Where are you staying? I'll give you a lift." "I haven't got anywhere. I only got here a few hours back." Michael thought for a moment. He still couldn't believe that the beautiful young creature in front of him was male. Despite incontrovertible evidence of his gender. The face seemed so feminine. Surely no man could look so good, so natural. Maybe Paul's outlandish story was true. "Okay, you can sleep on the couch tonight. Tomorrow you look for somewhere permanent to stay." Find a place of his own? Paul had no real idea how long it would take Michael to come up with a cure. Until he did he was going to have to support himself. If he was careful with his money he could probably get a reasonable apartment for a few months. Surely it shouldn't take any longer than that for Michael to undo the damage Anne had done to him. Paul helped Michael make the couch into a makeshift bed. It wasn't long before he was fast asleep. The exertions of the day and the small amount of sleep he had been getting had tired his new body. Michael Kingston was going through stacks of various scientific journals late into the night. During her research Dr. Chamberlain had published many papers and Michael absorbed every one of them. Their tone was extremely cautious but the direction of her research clearly pointed to the DNA-altering virus Paul claimed had affected him. She must have made a huge breakthrough. Then another thought struck him. This research was probably top secret. Chamberlain might not have announced her discovery even to the heads of the research institute she belonged to. Therefore, she almost certainly hadn't registered any patents yet. All he had to do was crack the secret of the virus and file a claim and the untold millions the patent would bring him would allow him to retire in luxury. But he would have to be a hell of a lot cleverer than the last time he had tried to pass someone else's research off as his own. I'll worry about that later, he thought. First I'll have to see how it works. If I can restore Paul he could probably help me with the legal difficulties. He certainly would like to hurt Anne after what she did to him. This could restore his reputation and his fortune. 3. Chapter Paul slept better that night than he had since his transformation. For the first time there was light at the end of the tunnel. It was just after eight in the morning that Paul woke up. It was very quiet in the apartment. Michael wasn't up yet. The small amount of clothes he had lay on a chair in a small pile. He didn't like the idea, but he was going to need new clothes. Female clothes. Well, at least he could choose ones that were less revealing. Normally he started the morning with some simple exercises. He had let them slip but he decided to do them while he waited for Michael to get up. It felt very different than when he did them in his old body. His upper body was far more supple than he was used to and his lower male half was obviously far less fit and had been a stranger to exercise. His breasts bobbed and tugged at his chest with every movement. He had to stop several times just to readjust his bra and stop his breasts escaping. Surely there was a bra designed to stop breasts popping out during strenuous exercise. He took his small bundle of clothes and locked himself in the bathroom. In the shower he methodically cleaned his body. It was still so alien to him. He still jumped every time he saw a young woman in the mirror. He touched his breasts, lifting and holding them. It felt so strange to have such weights on his chest. He felt his nipples start to tingle. They were a hundred times as sensitive as his old male nipples and seemed to have a life of their own. He remembered how they had sprung erect when Jim in Julie's body had sucked him off. He also recalled how they had reacted during their mauling by the cop. He brushed the nipples lightly with his fingers and shivered at the feelings he was getting. Paul got out of the shower and tried to ignore the odd sensations of his body as he towelled himself dry. His long blonde hair seemed to take ages to dry and it took some effort to comb the knots out. Finally he was as satisfied as he could be about his appearance and he headed out looking for breakfast. Michael had appeared at last but still looked tired. "Not much sleep?" asked Paul. "I was up late reading some of Chamberlain's papers. Fascinating stuff. But there isn't any indication that she has developed a fully working virus." "She wants to stay ahead of the competition. Not really surprising, this is the discovery of the century. Fame and fortune are hers if she gets there before anyone else." Paul helped himself to a bowl of breakfast cereal. "So when can we start with testing my DNA?" "Well...there's no time like the present." "Your boss won't mind you dropping whatever you are doing now for this?" "No. Not for something this important. Quince has never really cared for rules and regulations." Michael lapsed into silence as his mind started to fill with questions. How did the virus work? Did it just mask the old DNA or completely rewrite it? Paul could barely wait till Michael was ready. At last his nightmare was approaching its end. Soon he would be restored to full manhood. After a hurried breakfast they were soon on their way to Michael's lab. Paul's good mood was dampened somewhat as they neared Michael's workplace. "Stop the car!" he screamed. Michael slammed on the brakes. "What is it?" He asked. Paul scrambled out of the car and over to the sidewalk. Michael looked around to see what had upset Paul so much. All he could see was an empty street. Paul was looking down at the sidewalk where some broken glass was scattered. "Shit! Shit! Shit! My fucking car's been stolen!" shouted Paul in frustration. He should have known better than to leave his car in an area like this overnight. "They got my fucking credit cards as well!" "How much money have you got left?" Michael asked as Paul climbed back into the car. "Barely enough for a few days with my cards gone." "Paul, I'm not going to be able to support both you and me. My salary is barely enough for me to live on as it is. So you're going to have to think about getting a job." Paul stared at him. "A job?" "Yeah. I could hardly pick and choose my own job after the trial and I haven't got any savings. It may take months to find a cure..." "MONTHS!?" interrupted Paul. "That's just a worst case scenario. It probably won't come to that, but you have to prepare for the worst." The rest of the journey was done in silence. Paul knew that wasn't the worst case scenario. At worst he would be stuck like this forever. When they arrived outside Quince Biochemicals Paul could see the huge black guard was on duty again inside. He recognised Paul as he entered. "It's alright, Jeff," said Michael. "She's with me." "Has Mr. Quince cleared her?" replied the guard. "No, but I'll vouch for her," said Michael, a little uncomfortably. "Well, I'm not sure. You know what Mr. Quince is like about security." "Okay. Look, if you get one of your people to keep an eye on her while she's here today. Then I'll talk to Mr. Quince and clear it with him." The guard thought about it. "Okay. But the first sign of trouble and she's out. Understand?" "No problem. You won't be any trouble, will you, Paula?" Paul was momentarily confused by the feminine version of his name and then shook his head. As they walked down to the lab Paul said, "Paula?" "Sorry. It was all I could think of on the spur of the moment." Paul was rather surprised by the lab. It was nowhere near as well equipped as Anne's. Michael saw the look on Paul's face. "I know, I don't get the latest equipment here. But what I've got should be good enough." Michael started to prepare to take samples from Paul. Despite Michael's assurances, Paul wasn't totally convinced. The lab didn't make sense to Paul, surely the company was too small to support a research and development facility. And the lab didn't seem part of any production line. It just didn't make sense to him. Just then the door opened and another heavily muscled guard entered. This one was white and bald. He eyed Paul's large breasts, making no effort to hide the lust in his eyes. Paul did his best to ignore the guard as Michael took two small samples of skin and some swabs from his mouth. "Right I'll run some tests on these." Michael launched into a series of tests, none of which Paul understood. Paul got bored sitting around and ended up helping Michael in his experiments. For Michael the time flew past. Some simple tests with samples from himself quickly established some change was happening. But he needed something more concrete to convince Quince this was something worth researching. He turned to the guard, "Bill, get one of the test mice." The guard grudgingly did what he was told. Paul looked on as Michael prepared a syringe. "You going to see if it has any effect on the mouse?" "From what I've read, the DNA virus should be able to alter any mammalian DNA. You see, I need proof to take to Mr Quince otherwise he isn't going to let me do the research you need to solve your problem." The door to the lab burst open and in stalked an imposing man in an immaculate suit. "Speak of the devil," muttered Michael. Quince was in his late thirties, his brown hair already going grey. "What the hell is going on, Kingston?" he demanded. Paul noted he wasn't that tall, but he seemed to dominate everyone else in the room. "I thought you knew better than to bring your girlfriend here." "Mr. Quince, I can explain. Look at this." Michael quickly held the mouse down and injected it with the solution. I hope this works, he prayed to himself. Almost instantly the mouse started to writhe and change under his hand. Michael jerked back his hand and stared at the mouse. Its fur receded and its arms and legs began to grow. Its claws grew into impossibly tiny fingers, recognisably human. Then suddenly it stopped and the twisted creature lay still, obviously dead. Paul turned away and fought down the urge to be sick. "What is that?" asked Quince in absolute disbelief. "It's the reason I brought this person here. Here, let me show you my notes," answered Michael. Quince went through the records asking questions at various points as Michael explained Paul's story. Paul's eyes were dragged unwillingly back to the dead mouse. It hadn't completed the change to human, it was still three quarters mouse. He turned to Michael. "W-why didn't it change all the way?" Michael thought for a moment. "Probably the difference in size between a human and a mouse was too great. The mouse didn't have the resources to complete the change and no human that size could live." He turned back to Quince and continued explaining. Quince was lapping it up, his eyes bright with excitement and ideas. Paul was chilled by the look. He tried to shake it off. At least Quince would throw his whole weight behind the project now. He went to the far side of the lab and opened the window. The fresh air helped calm him down. But in his stomach the fear remained. The thing that had killed the mouse and twisted its body was running free and unchecked through every cell in his body. He tried to think about something else. He needed to get a job to support himself. How was he going to do that? He couldn't be a lawyer and he had no identity he could use. When was this nightmare going to end? Paul felt eyes on him and turned around to see Quince staring at him in lust. But not the sexual desire most men had shown since he had become half- female. It was pure greed. Quince didn't see a person, he saw a meal ticket to a personal fortune. Paul shuddered and turned away. 4. Chapter The man was in his early twenties, smelled fairly bad and had greasy hair. But what really filled Paul with disgust was the way that he was drooling over Paul's breasts. Paul wanted to just pummel the man's face in. Instead he just smiled and said, "Would you like fries with that?" The man smiled. "Yeah. Say, what are you doing when you finish work? Perhaps I could take you out for a drink?" Paul glared at him and the man visibly paled. "Or maybe not." He paid for his burger and fries and retreated to one of the bolted-down tables. "I hate that the most about working here. When the lowlifes try to pick you up. Why do they try?" Mandy asked in an annoyed tone. Paul looked over at Mandy at the other cash register. "Maybe they get turned on by the uniform." Mandy flashed one of her broad smiles. She was one of the bright spots of Paul's day so far. Mandy was shorter than Paul, barely reaching five feet in height. She had a mop of brown hair in a pageboy cut and a slim athletic looking body. Her breasts were small, but seemed the perfect size to Paul. Anything bigger would have left her body looking unbalanced. She looked a little like an elf would, and the first time Paul had met her he had almost checked her for pointed ears. Paul loathed the job itself. It was utterly menial and needed no mental effort whatsoever. All he had to do was listen to the moronic customers telling him what they wanted. Then he had to push the buttons on the till, each marked with pictures of the various pieces of food on offer. And then shout the order back to the kitchen. He had always looked down on the people who worked here as lazy idiots who couldn't be bothered to work for a good job like his. It had quickly become apparent when he had started looking for work that he was qualified for only two jobs. Serving burgers was infinitely preferable to a night-club or strip joint. So here he was, in a dayglow yellow-and-green uniform, bored out of his skull. He had been sleeping in Michael's apartment for over a week and had rarely left it. Michael had become insistent that he find a job and moved out. He said his stretched resources couldn't cover Paul as well. Paul had suggested asking Quince for a loan, but Michael had refused point blank to do anything like that. With the meagre salary from the burger bar he would just be able to afford a dingy one room apartment. This isn't forever, he kept telling himself. Just until Michael could come up with a cure. To give him his due, Michael was working flat-out on the virus. Paul didn't really see why he had to move out. Surely the cure wouldn't take the several months Michael had said it would? He had blown about half his money buying some more underwear, which he had needed. In the lingerie section he had felt like an invader, as if at any moment his true gender would be revealed. If any of the assistants thought he was anything other than a shy girl, they hadn't let on. He had made his purchases with the minimum of embarrassment and left. Paul realised Mandy was talking to him. "Sorry?" "I said it's time for our lunch break. Unless you're enjoying yourself too much." Paul gladly followed her upstairs to a small room with a coffee machine and some chairs. He kicked off his shoes and sat down. Mandy started making some coffee as Paul flicked through some of the papers lying around. "What are you looking for?" asked Mandy. "Somewhere to live. But there's no place cheap enough for me to afford." Mandy sighed and sat down beside Paul. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I'm probably going to have to move out of my apartment because I can't keep up with the rent. It's a great place considering the money I pay for it, but since the girl I shared it with moved back home I'm struggling to meet the rent all the time." She paused and then added, "So how about it, Paula?" "How about what?" Paul asked. "Share the rent with me, silly. The spare bedroom is very nice." Paul looked at Mandy. He belatedly realised she was serious. When Mandy looked at Paul she didn't see a forty-year-old involuntary transsexual. Instead she saw a pretty girl, around her own age, down on her luck. Why not, thought Paul. It was better than any other options he had, and he had gotten along well with Mandy since he had met her the day before. "Thanks, Mandy. I owe you for this." "Nonsense. It's us girls against the world, isn't it?" "Uh...yeah." She is very cute, thought Paul. He clamped down on that feeling. He knew it could only bring him trouble. "So when can you move in? Do you need a hand with your stuff?" Paul laughed. "Slow down. I can move in now if you like, and all my stuff will fit in one bag." Mandy looked concerned. "You've had some bad luck recently, haven't you?" Paul nodded. "Do you want to talk about it?" "Uhh...no, not really." "Okay, no problem. If you do want to talk about it, I'll be there for you." Paul thanked her, glad that she hadn't pressed the issue. He was going to have to come up with a cover story at some point. 5, Chapter "How is your research progressing, Doctor?" Quince asked. Michael rubbed his eyes and looked up. "It's going to take months to work out how Chamberlain did it." "But do you know enough about it to be able to use it? Can you reverse what was done to your friend?" "I have two different DNA viruses here. I've found a way to remove the DNA signatures from the viruses, but that won't cure him. These blank viruses will pick up any DNA they come into contact with and incorporate it into themselves. So they'll immediately pick up the DNA from his altered cells, and we're back where we started." "But you can create viruses with anybody's DNA?" Michael looked up and saw the glint in Quince's eyes. "Theoretically, yes. But I have no idea if, in clearing Paul's DNA from the virus, I've damaged it somehow. It could be fatal." Quince nodded. "We'll wait until you're absolutely sure before we go any further. However, I would like you to produce some viruses using DNA from other people." "Sure," agreed Michael. At the back of his mind he wondered what, if anything, Quince had planned for the other viruses. He knew better than to ask. "I still can't discover how to remove or replace a virus once someone has been changed by it. Paul is convinced Chamberlain knew how, but she designed it. It may take me a while to crack it." "I fully understand," said Quince. "You can't rush these things. Let me know if you make any breakthroughs." He turned and left the lab without waiting for an answer. He smiled as he walked back to his office. He had never seen Kingston so enthusiastic. **************** The blonde, buxom girl said hello as she entered the reception of Quince Biochemicals. Jeff smiled and replied, "Morning, Miss Roberts." His smile slowly faded as she walked past. Where did she fit in all this? She seemed to still be in her teens, but she had a maturity way beyond her years. And there was something about the way she walked that didn't seem quite right to him. Paula Roberts had appeared a week before, in a desperate state demanding to see Dr. Kingston. Eventually, Jeff had had to carry her out of the building to get rid of her. The next day, she had returned with Kingston, and now was the center of some frenetic activity by both the doctor and Quince. He was still trying to fit all the pieces together when one of the other security guards entered reception. "Hey, Bill. Could you look after reception for a bit?" Jeff asked. "Yeah, okay. Don't be too long, alright?" "No problem. Just got to answer a call of nature." Jeff made his way back to the rear of the building. He had been itching to have a look all day to see if the information was correct. But only now, towards evening, was the building empty enough for him to risk it. The door was unmarked and locked, but Jeff had the key. It was the almost total access to every room in the building that had led Jeff to apply for the job of security guard, and his references seemed perfect for the position. He quietly opened the door, and looked in at the darkened storeroom. If his contact was correct, the box he was looking for would have been delivered that morning. A quick search of the room located the large box tucked away in a corner. Jeff opened the box. It was full near to the brim with little bottles of tablets. He picked up one, and read the serial number. It matched! He pocketed the bottle. It wouldn't be missed out out of a full box. Jeff closed the box and switched off the light. He slipped out of the room and locked it again. Quince was very careful, but at last Jeff had something on him. He returned to the reception, and took over from the bald-headed guard who was almost asleep on his feet. Inside, Jeff was exultant, but he was careful not to allow any of it to show on his face. At last he was getting somewhere. *************** "It's not great, but it's home." Mandy shut the front door and showed Paul into the main room. "You've got a nice place here. Much better than what I could have looked forward to on my own," Paul said. He had been expecting a small, dingy apartment. And it was small, but Mandy had obviously put a lot of thought into how to decorate the place. Mandy showed Paul around. There wasn't that much to see: two small bedrooms, a kitchen and a bathroom. Paul dropped the bag carrying the few belongings he had left and joined Mandy in the kitchen. "Can you cook?" she asked. "Very badly, I'm afraid," Paul replied. "Same here. Oh, well. Let's see what we can come up with." Mandy didn't have that much in the way of food, but together, Mandy and Paul managed to make a reasonable dinner. Mandy suggested they have a bottle of wine as a way to welcome Paul to the apartment. She was far more open and talkative away from the burger bar and Paul couldn't help smiling along with her. Mandy had come to the city a few years before after what was left of her family had fallen apart. She was in fact twenty-one, which was about five years older than she looked to Paul. They finished off the wine almost before they realised it. Paul felt slightly drunk, which was unusual from so little alcohol. Together they sat on the one couch and watched an action film with Harrison Ford in it. About half an hour into the film, Mandy shifted her head over and rested it on Paul's shoulder. His first reaction was that this was a subtle come-on on Mandy's part. Then he had to remember who he now appeared to be. He still thought of himself as a forty-year-old man instead of the young woman he appeared to be. As far as Mandy was concerned, it was a purely innocent action so that she could see the television better. Paul looked down at Mandy. She was so close that he could smell her intoxicating female scent. He might look like a woman, but he was still male where it counted. In his silken panties, he could feel his cock stiffening. Perhaps it was a mixture of the wine and the odd situation, but Paul felt a strong sensation of lust run through him. Even his nipples were reacting to his thoughts. He could imagine lowering Mandy to the floor and opening her blouse to expose her perfectly formed breasts, kissing one, and drawing the excited spike of her nipple into his mouth. Then he'd slowly enter her tight, wet pussy and bring her to several climaxes before powerfully pumping his cum into her. Paul looked down past his aroused breasts to see his erection. It wasn't blatantly obvious in the baggy pants he was wearing, but he had better do something about it before Mandy noticed. "Excuse me. Have to go to the bathroom." Mandy lifted her head off his shoulder, and Paul stumbled out into the hall and across into the bathroom. Thankfully, there was a lock on the door. He virtually ripped his blouse and pants off. His panties were at bursting point, and he gladly slipped them off to expose his raging hard-on. He grasped its hot length in his hand and slowly started to masturbate. His cock, like the rest of him, had been altered by the DNA viruses. It was no longer than his original penis, but it was definitely thicker. All that mattered to him now was relieving himself of the sexual tension that had built up in him. Paul concentrated on an image of Mandy lying naked on a bed, waiting for him to come and fuck her brains out. He imagined her eagerly taking his cock deep into her throat. By now he was pumping hard on his straining cock with one hand while the other had slipped into his bra. As he caressed his own breasts he imagined they belonged to Mandy, despite the fact that they were much bigger than hers. The luxurious sensation from his breasts combined with the pressure in his balls sent him over the edge, and he had an explosive orgasm. White cum splattered across the wall and on the floor. He managed to stop himself from crying out as he came. The intensity of the orgasm left him a little shaky and drained. Slowly, he came back to himself as he stood there, still absentmindedly rubbing his super-sensitive nipples. He quickly wiped himself down with a towel and cleaned the semen off the floor and walls with toilet paper. Paul opened the window to clear the smell from the small room. He quickly dressed and went back to join Mandy. "You took your time. Did you fall in?" she asked as Paul returned. "No, I just don't rush," Paul said a little defensively. "My Dad was like that. Used to take the paper in with him and we never saw him until he had finished it. Are you alright? You look a little flushed." "That's...just the wine. It affects me like that sometimes." Paul was glad to see Mandy accepted his explanation. "Come on. The film's just getting to a good bit. Harrison Ford is really sexy, isn't he." Paul sat back down on the couch. "He's okay, I suppose. If you like that sort of thing." "Oh, come on! Don't tell me you prefer big, muscle-bound Neanderthals. He's far better than Schwartzenegger and those other morons. Say, that wine really does affect you. Your face is bright red, Paula." 6. Chapter "Are you sure about this?" asked Quince. "Enough to know we have a severe security breach." The other man was small and wiry. He wore an ill-fitting suit and was carrying a folder. From the folder he produced several photographs. Quince scanned each one. They clearly showed one of his security guards, Jeff Stockwell, in a bar with another man. "Do we know who this other guy is, Simonds?" "He's a cop. We don't know if Stockwell is a cop as well or just an informant." replied Simonds. "Damn. How much do they know?" "Not enough to move against us yet, obviously. But it's only a matter of time. We should use this time to destroy any evidence and get out while we can." Quince sat down behind his desk. He was quiet for several moments. Simonds knew better than to disturb him. Finally, Quince said, "Maybe we could remove Stockwell from the scene." "The second he disappears, this place will be raided. You know that." Simonds replied in a perplexed voice. "Not if he doesn't disappear." Simonds shook his head. "Now you've lost me." Quince smiled as he got up and headed to the door. "Come on, I'll let you in on a little secret." ************** A sharp, pounding headache drew Jeff back to consciousness. It took him several long minutes to gather his wits. He was lying on a bare concrete floor in a small room. It had no window and only one dim lightbulb. How had he gotten there? He sorted his memories into some kind of order. He had been going back to the cheap room he was living in during this operation. Someone had been there, and had jumped him when he had entered. Had his cover been blown? If it had, the question was what would Quince do with him. He struggled upright, and examined the door. It was a very solid wooden door, and even his strength wouldn't budge it. All he could do was wait and hope that there was some opportunity he could exploit. Outside the door, three figures were standing. "Okay, let's do it." Simonds said, "I still think we could do with some more men. Stockwell is as strong as an ox." Quince smiled. "I think Bill will be able to handle him. Open the door." Simonds unbolted the door and drew it open. Jeff looked up to see Quince and Simonds standing in the room beyond, but his attention was rapidly drawn to the far larger figure standing between them in front of the door. It was a heavily-muscled, black man with Jeff's face! He was frozen with shock. The other man took the advantage and grabbed Jeff, dragged him out of the room, forced him face down on the floor and twisted Jeff's arm behind him to make sure he couldn't get up. Jeff was in no position to try to get up; he was far too shocked. Where could they have found someone who was absolutely identical to him? It was impossible! Quince almost laughed. He had gotten his tame doctor to make a DNA- altering virus based on Jeff, and injected it into Bill. It had taken the better part of several hours to convince the bald, white guard that it was safe. Now, Bill was an exact copy of Jeff. Quince waved Simonds over, "Quickly, the syringe!" Simonds carefully removed the syringe from the case he had been holding tightly in his hands. The last thing he wanted was to accidentally inject himself with it. He jabbed it inexpertly into Jeff's arm. Quickly, he injected the syringe's clear contents into Jeff. He stood back and nodded to Quince. "Okay, Bill, you can stand back now," Quince said calmly, despite the excitement he felt. The guard released Jeff and stepped away from his twin. Jeff didn't know why he had been released, but he decided to make the best of it. He struggled to his feet, and was about to make a break for it when the strangest feeling overcame him. The arm which had been injected felt different somehow. He held out the arm in front of him and his heart hammered with the shock of what he saw. It was shrinking! The well-defined muscles were just vanishing. What had they injected into him? He brought his new, much smaller hand closer. It hadn't just shrunk. It had been altered. The skin on the arm, while still brown, was a shade or two lighter than it should have been. The hand itself was refined and much smaller than his other hand, as if the bone structure had shrunk as well. The area of strangeness was still spreading. He felt the feeling of alteration enter his left shoulder and start spreading across his upper body. Jeff was near to total panic. Was he dying? Then he felt his neck being rearranged. It, too, was becoming slender and losing most of the muscles around it. "What have you done to me?" cried Jeff, but his voice was no longer his own. Instead of the bass rumble he had been used to since adolescence, he now had a high, feminine pitched voice. He looked back at his changed hand. It hadn't shrivelled. It was a woman's hand. Somehow, whatever they had injected into him was turning him female. The virus worked its way up into his head, and he could feel long, curly hair spilling onto his shoulders. The rate of change was speeding up now. Under his T-shirt appeared two bumps, quickly multiplying in size. He slapped his hands over them in a desperate effort to stop them growing, as if he could push the lumps back into himself. His breasts started to hurt from the pressure of his hands, which were almost enveloped in the soft flesh he was acquiring. His mind struggled to comprehend what was happening. He had tits, huge and heavy. He closed his eyes and tried to make them go away by sheer will power, but he could still feel his large, jiggling breasts hanging from his chest. By now, the virus was reaching his crotch, and Jeff forgot all about the mammaries he had grown. He thrust his hand into his pants but it was already too late. The anatomy that greeted his hand was familiar, but he had never expected to find it on himself. He had a pussy! His cock and balls were gone. As he searched for any sign of his former maleness, his hips widened into a shape designed for childbirth. Jeff started whimpering in absolute shock and slowly collapsed to the floor. Quince had watched Jeff's transformation from a burly guard to a well- stacked slut with quiet fascination. No one would believe that the beautiful girl had ever been anything other than female. Quince had not been convinced that the virus could work on a human without killing him. Now he had seen it in action twice, and he knew it was safe. Dr. Kingston still had no way to reverse the process, and he was unsure if he could ever find one. Quince had had to lie to Bill before the guard had agreed to take Jeff's place. It had also taken a large sum of money that Quince had absolutely no intention of paying. He walked over to the shivering woman. He crouched beside her and grabbed her face. Her eyes were filled with pure terror. "This is what I do to people who betray me," he told her. "You're going back in your room for the night, and tomorrow you'll give me details of exactly what you've been up to. If you don't tell me the whole truth, you're going to be stuck in that bitch's body for the rest of your life." She didn't resist as he helped her up and put her back in the bare room. Quince knew that she was probably in deep shock, and probably wasn't even able to remember her own name at that moment. He hoped that by the morning, she would have recovered enough to be interrogated. In the room, Jeff sat in a corner listening to the sound of her gasps. Even they sounded feminine. A part of her was screaming that this was only a dream, that she was still male. But, deep down, she knew that was no longer true. 7. Chapter Some time had passed. Jeff had no idea how much. The small room had no windows, only a low-powered lightbulb, so she couldn't even tell if night had fallen or if it was already dawn outside. The events of the last few hours played relentlessly through Jeff's mind. Somehow, Quince had turned her from an imposing male cop into a well-endowed woman. For the first time since that impossible event had happened, Jeff managed to calm herself down enough to examine her new body. She looked down at her chest. When she had put the T-shirt on that morning, it had been tight against her muscled torso and thick arms. Now it was as loose as a tent. It was still tight in one area though, where her breasts stretched the material. She closed her eyes and pulled the T-shirt off. The soft curls of her long hair brushed against her bare shoulders, but she ignored the strange sensation as her eyes drank in the incredible sight before her. Two brown globes of feminine flesh sat heavily on her chest. They were beautiful breasts; large but firm, with perfect skin. Gently, she held them in her small hands. They were real, not some prosthetics. She could feel her hands lifting her new breasts. She released them and ran a finger over one nipple. It was huge compared to her old male nipple, and much more sensitive. She ran her finger around it. The nipple tingled and grew. She grasped her teat between her fingers and pulled gently. It felt good. Jeff felt herself get turned on by both the feeling and the sight of her naked feminine flesh. Her crotch became aroused, but it felt so different from what she was used to. It felt a little like an erection, but somehow inside her. She didn't feel the familiar tightness in her pants that she was used to. Then Jeff remembered what she had felt there before Quince had put her back in the room. Her small hands struggled at the belt which was now loose around her impossibly small waist. She pushed her pants and shorts down over her wide hips and gasped in