The Fishing Trip free porn video

The Fishing Trip by Ellie Dauber, 1999 "You know, people only use fifteen percent of their brain capacity," Andy said. "Speak for yourself, Andy," Phil replied. "No, I'm serious." We can test for brain activity with EEGs, positron emission systems, and the like; never seems to be more than about fifteen percent. It's like there's blocks to keep us from using more." "So?" "So! Phil, you're a fairly smart guy; partner in that big law firm within a couple years." "Junior partner." "Even so, that's pretty good from what you tell me. That's with only fifteen percent of your brain working. Imagine if you were able to work with your entire brain capacity." "Ha! I'd rule the world." He laughed good naturedly at the joke, and Andy joined him. The two men were an odd pair. Andy was Dr. Andrew Hoffmann, M.D., Ph.D., professor of psychology at Whitmere University. He was a tall, slender man with thinning sandy color hair worn long. He was dressed, as usual, in a sweater over a work shirt and tie and a pair of faded jeans. His hands were in constant, expressive motion as he spoke. Phil was Philip J. McNierney, junior partner at Chase, Allen, and Rice, one of the most prestigious law firms in the city. He was a handsome man of average height, wearing a three piece suit and tie that made him look as if a GQ ad had come to life. His wavy black hair was cut in the short, conservative style favored by his firm's managing partner. The two men had met in high school and surprised themselves as much as everyone else by becoming best friends, even though they came from entirely different backgrounds. Andy's father worked on the docks and his mother waited tables. Phil's father had turned the small manufacturing company he had inherited into a multi-million dollar corporation with interests across the U.S. Both boys were top students, though, and among the best athletes in their school. But even when they had been rivals for the same sports trophy, the same academic honor, even for the same girl, they had never let it interfere with their friendship. Phil once joked that they even competed to see who had the best explanation for why they remained friends. Both men claimed to have come up with the answer that they usually gave, "Being able to compete against him makes me look good." They even had a joke worked out. If they were together when some one asked, one of them (they kept track and took turns) would give the answer. Then they would say "Besides, _I_ usually win." in perfect unison and glare at each other until somebody got the joke. Now they were in The Legal Eagle, a bar near Phil's office to celebrate. Phil had just won a major civil case with a settlement of close to $20 million the day before. Andy's research grant was being renewed for another two years at a substantial increase in funding. "Tell me again what this big grant of yours is for," Phil said. "Okay, if we didn't need all that extra capacity for something, I don't think we'd have it. I'm trying to find out what we _do_ use it for." "Makes sense. But if you can't track it with any of those fancy gadgets, how do you even know that it's being used?" "That's what I'm trying to find out. I have a hunch that it gets used -- some of it, at least -- at the subconscious level." "Doing what?" "Running all those things we need to keep living but never think about; keeping our hearts beating, remembering to breathe, stuff like that. I think I can use this new drug that I've been working on to tell it to do something else." "Make somebody's heart stop beating or make them forget to breathe? The Law takes a dim view of that, Andy." "No, look -- suppose I could give my stuff to somebody who lost his hand in an accident and tell him that it was going to grow back. His brain believes it, and _it_ tells the stump to grow a new hand. Would that be useful?" "Your stuff can do that? Tell me, you did incorporate last year, didn't you?" "C'mon, you did the papers. In fact, I think you're one of the officers in the corporation, you, my Dad, and me." "I know. I just wanted to remember how it happened that I got to be so rich so young." "You're not rich yet. I haven't proved that it works yet. All my test subjects to date have been animals. I can show that it doesn't do any harm, and that it seems to activate some sections of the brain that we've never seen working before. But you can't tell a wounded dog to grow a paw back. You can, but it won't understand." "So you need a human subject?" "Yeah, and the paperwork to get approval for human experimentation is frightening. The application must be a good thousand pages, and it needs to be done in quintuplicate. It'll take me the rest of this grant period just to get the thing filled out and approved." "What if somebody filed a waiver stating that they were fully aware of all the risks, taking full responsibility on themselves, and absolving you or the university of any possible blame or fault?" "Maybe, if it was absolutely airtight -- wait a minute, what exactly are you saying?" "I'll take the stuff." "No way am I going to do that! You're crazy." "No, I'm perfectly sane. I'll toss in a statement to that effect from the psychiatrist my firm keeps on retainer. Look, you need a human subject. Despite everything you may have heard about lawyers, we _are_ human. And I trust you. More to the point, I trust your judgement. If you think it'll work, then I do, too. And, if I'm willing to get filthy rich from the profits off this drug, then I should be willing to take some of the risk to prove that it works." "I need a test subject, but I don't want to risk my best friend. Look, we were supposed to go away for that two week fishing trip next month; that lodge your firm owns on Lake Cody. There's a pretty good hospital, Frazier General, about ten minutes from there. They can transfer to the University Medical Center, if we need that. I'll bring the drug, plus some equipment up with me. If you're still willing, we'll do it. I'll do it." "Fine. I'll start on the paperwork tomorrow. Drop a copy of that federal application off at my office. I'll probably want to crib some language." "Don't get too caught up in this. I want you to spend some of the time thinking about what you're getting yourself into." ***** A rather nervous grad student brought the application to firm the next afternoon. "Dr. Hoffmann asked me to drop this off," he said fidgeting back and forth in Phil's office, feeling out of place in the rich surroundings. "He said to tell you he couldn't get out of some faculty meeting, and you should call him after you read it." Phil took the papers and gave the student $10 for his trouble. The kid looked like he could use it. After a quick read, Phil could see that the forms were as bad as Andy had said they were. "I never saw a government form that didn't take six paragraphs to say what it could say in one," he thought. Still, it did ask -- and answer -- a lot of very specific questions about possible risks the subjects would face -- _he_ would face; safeguards that would be in place; ways of finding out as early as possible if anything had gone wrong; and what might be done about it. Andy was right. It was serious reading and a lot to think about. ***** Andy came by Phil's office the next day with another form. "More reading?" Phil asked. "Not much, just a standard medical release form from Doug Reilly. By the way, you have an appointment with him the day after tomorrow. Your secretary set it up." "Why, and what do you need the form for?" Doug Reilly had been doctor to both men since he'd taken over his father's practice, when the pair were in high school. "If I'm going to change your body, I need baseline data, need to know what I'm changing it from. This form gets me access to all your records, so I can chart your health for the last couple years. Also, I need to know if there's anything that the drug might react to -- or with. Maybe even find something else that I want to change." "There's nothing wrong with me that needs fixing. If there was, Doc Reilly would have told me as soon as he found it." "Sometimes you don't worry a patient. A man with, say, a high risk for cancer doesn't _have_ cancer. A doctor will just note the higher risk and check the indicators from time to time to see if anything's happened." "Okay, but do I understand that you don't know yet what you're going to do to me?" "I could make it simple. Cut off a few fingers, or even a hand, and tell it to grow back. But I'm not certain that the drug will work. If it didn't, well, I've known you too long to start calling you "Lefty". "Gee, thanks." "No, I'm looking for a change that's showy enough to be dramatic, but shouldn't be a problem if the stuff doesn't work. By the way, can I get a spare key to the lodge? I want to take some equipment up there, set up part of a lab in one of the rooms so I can monitor and record what happens if it does work." "We _are_ going to have time to fish, aren't we?" "We better. But I'll need time each day to do some tests. Relax, you get to just sit there while I do a 'poke and probe'. Then you can read, nap, drink. Whatever you want. I'll be the one stuck in the lab doing the analysis." "Better you than me, pal." He signed the form and handed it back to Phil. "By the way, you can pull out of this, no questions asked and no blame given, up to the moment I inject. You do understand that, don't you?" "Crystal clear, Dr. Frankenstein. I understand the risks and am -- at this moment -- ready to take them. Now get going. My partners won't let me go, if I don't finish my notes on this appeal." ***** A week later, Phil's "beemer" pulled up on the gravel drive next to the lodge. Andy was already there, unloading his fishing gear from the back of his old station wagon. It looked like an old clunker, but it was a classic. The two friends had spent the summer between their junior and senior years of college restoring the car. Phil carried his own suitcases into the lodge, then came back out for his fishing gear. The lodge was an old stone farmhouse and barn with a beautiful view of the lake. Phil's firm had gotten it a few years before as part of a settlement. The previous owner had restored it as an investment, but it had gotten tangled up in the inheritance battle when he died unexpectedly. The firm used it as a retreat twice a year for planning sessions. The rest of the time, it was available to some favored clients and to members of the firm -- including senior clerical staff -- on a basis that was part "first come, first served" and part "rank hath it's privileges". Phil got it for two weeks by bringing in a settlement that netted the firm almost eight million dollars in fees and expenses. The caretaker worked a farm about ten minutes away. His wife doubled as cook if needed. They were a pleasant couple in their sixties. The husband wasn't a bad fishing guide, and, if the wife's cooking wasn't inspired, it was good basic farm food: tasty and filling. Andy had suggested that neither one should be around. They really didn't want anybody to know what they _really_ would be doing. But Mrs. Casey had stocked the refrigerator and fixed up two of the six bedrooms in the lodge before she'd left. "So what's the plan?" Phil asked once both men were unpacked. "Can we get some fishing in, or do we go straight to the 'Twilight Zone' stuff?" Andy looked at his watch. "It's about 6 PM. Too late for fishing, really. I thought we'd nuke some pizza for supper. I could do some quick tests and then give you the stuff." "Just your average afternoon in the country. Why do you need more tests?" "Baseline readings. Nothing fancy: blood pressure, heart rate, and a urine sample. Did you bring the forms?" "Here they are. I signed them and had them notarized them at my office before I left." "So your office knows what you're up to, then?" "No. All they know is that I drew up some papers and had them notarized after I signed them. Relax, the notary didn't get a chance to read them. She just saw me sign. It's standard procedure on really confidential cases, so Mary, our notary, is used to it. Here." He handed a sealed envelop to Andy, who put it in his jacket pocket. ***** They cooked and ate the pizza in silence, washing it down with a couple of sodas. Andy didn't want any alcohol in Phil's system. He also didn't want to talk because he was afraid of giving away his plans to his friend. Phil was nervous about what was going to happen. "Okay," Andy said, handing him a small plastic vial. "Strip down to your shorts and fill this up for me while I set up the equipment." "Equipment?" "Yeah, some medical monitoring gear and a video camera. I want a working record of whatever happens. The monitor works with these tiny radio-sensors that stick to your skin. You'll hardly know they're attached. The camera gives me a visual record. It also can pick up my voice, so I can talk while I'm shooting -- get a 'play-by-play' if you want." "Makes sense." Phil carried his bags -- and the vial -- up to his room. A few minutes later, he was in the bathroom listening to the water run and thinking of Niagara Falls." Andy was just finishing a quick test of the camera, when Phil came back downstairs, in his boxers and carrying a capped vial full of amber liquid. Andy had moved a couple chairs to set up a "stage" area in front of one darkly paneled wall. The monitor was plugged in next to the CD player with a tray holding what looked like nine black peas on a white cloth next to it. There was a small jar of salve next to the tray. Andy wrote something on a white label and attached it to the vial. He put the vial in slotted hole within a small plastic carrying case. Then he walked into a small storage room just off the main room. He'd set this up as a lab the day before with the help of a couple of grad students. He put the sample case in a small mini-fridge. that was sitting in a corner. When he returned, he had his medical bag with him. He did the usual "insurance exam" procedures: took Phil's blood pressure, listened to his heart, shined a light in his eyes and ears, and banged Phil's knee with a rubber hammer. After each procedure, he made notes on a yellow tablet. "Drop your shorts, friend," Andy finally said. "Then do I turn my head and cough?" "It's a thought. Later maybe. Right now I want to attach the sensors." "Attach what and to where?" Andy held up one of the little "peas". and the jar of salve. "These," he said, "are the sensors. The goop in this jar holds them to your skin. It's a little oily, but it's a lot better than the _pins_ we used to use. Here tell me how this feels." Andy took the "pea", smeared some of the salve on it, and tuck it gently to the side of Phil's neck. It stayed in place when he took his hand away. It felt a little oily, but that sensation went away in a minute or two. Phil stretched and twisted his neck. The "pea" stayed in place, but he could barely feel it. "Seems okay, I guess," Phil said. "Where are you going to stick those things, anyway?" "One on each side of your neck -- the carotid arteries; one at the top center of your forehead; one in each armpit; two one your chest, one for your heart, one for your breathing; and one by the femoral artery -- right here --in each leg." As he had spoken, Andy had attached the "peas" at each point he mentioned. Then he entered some codes on a small keypad attached to the monitor. "The little buggers are color coded. I just told the machine where each one was so I can better understand the data." "When do you take them off?" "That stuff hardens into a permanent seal. Don't panic. I've got a solvent in the lab that'll melt the stuff without leaving a mark. In the meantime, they send an automatic set of readings to the monitor system for thirty seconds every hour." Andy took a small bottle of greenish liquid and a fresh syringe from his bag. "Last chance to back out." "No, let's do it." Are you ready for the shot, then?" "I guess. Do you stick me in the arm, or do I get to drop my shorts?" "The arm is fine. I'll stick it in a vein so it gets moving faster. Here, let me turn on the camera." He flipped a switch. The camera was perched on a tripod and focused on the spot where Phil was standing. Andy stepped in front of the camera for a moment. "I am Andrew Hoffmann of Whitmere University. The date is May 4, 1999; 6:35 PM. I am about to administer 30 ccs of drug BR-397 to this test subject. Based on his weight, age, and medical history this should be sufficient to create the desired psychological and neurological effects." Phil stopped Andy just as he was about to administer the drug. "Just a moment, doctor." He looked straight at the camera and said, "I am Philip J. McNierney of this City. I want to state for the record that I am doing this of my own free will, having been fully appraised of the risks. I absolve Dr. Andrew Hoffmann, Whitmere University, and any other affected parties of any blame or responsibility for the results." Then he turned to Andy and added, "Once a lawyer, always a lawyer." Andy tied a thin piece of rubber around Phil's arm and told him to make a fist. A quick dab of antiseptic, a pinch as the needle went in, and it was over. Andy brought over a folding chair and had Phil sit down. "How long does this stuff take to work?" "I should see something in about five minutes. You may feel a little dizzy." The two men made small talk, mostly about going fishing the next day. Phil was bragging about a new lure he'd bought, when he suddenly shook his head. "I think your stuff is getting to me." Andy looked deeply into Phil's eyes. They were visibly dilated. "Time to begin," he said. He pulled a small light on a chain from his pocket and began twirling it before Phil's eyes while he spoke in a low tone. In a moment, the man was in a deep hypnotic state. Andy got a glass of water from the nearby table. Turning to the camera, he said, "this is ordinary water from the kitchen tap. I'm going to use it as a cue to the brain control functions being tested." He turned to face Phil. "Phil can you hear me? Nod if you can." Phil nodded. "Phil, I'm now going to give you a second drug. You can just drink this one because it's so powerful. Here, take the glass." He handed Phil the glass, and Phil drank the water almost immediately. "Now listen closely, Phil. What you just drank is a very powerful bio-genetic drug. Even now it's penetrating every cell of your body, getting into your DNA. In a very little while, your body is going to begin to change. You're going to change your sex. You're going to become a woman." Phil's expression changed. He looked terrified and began to shake his head "No". Andy had expected this. He put his hand on Phil's shoulder. "You will relax. You will not try to fight these changes, even though you don't want to be a woman. You trust me, and you know that I can reverse the change once it's over. You will accept the fact that you're changing because you know that I can change you back." Phil grew calmer as Andy spoke. He slumped back in the chair and seemed to relax. But Andy could still see the fear in his friend's eyes, and he wondered if he hadn't gone too far. His reasons for saying what he had said still seemed good. Besides, there was no way he could take back what he's said and done. He waited a time and, eventually, Phil did calm down. He sat motionless in the chair, staring of into space. Andy decided to bring him out of it." "Can you hear me, Phil," he said. When Phil nodded his head, Andy continued. "I'm going to start counting down from 10 to 1. As I do, you'll begin to wake up. You'll feel fine, but with no conscious memory of being in the trance or of what was said to you. The potion, though, will continue to work on your body in the way I've described." "When I tell you to go to bed, you'll become very sleepy. You'll go straight up to bed and have a sound night's sleep. In the morning, you'll wake up naturally and feel very good. Okay, 10, you're beginning to wake up; 9, your eyelids feel less heavy..." Andy counted slowly down to 1, repeating his suggestions as he did. Phil's eyes slowly opened. He shook his head and looked at Andy. "Did it work? Did I go under okay?" "You did fine. Look at the clock. You were out for almost an hour." "Then you did it. Hey, I never asked. What did you tell my body to do? Do I get a sixth finger, or am I going to grow horns?" "Why don't you just go to bed now. We'll talk about it in the morning. I want you to have a good night's sleep." Phil yawned. He had to admit that he was suddenly very tired. He said goodnight and headed up to his bedroom. He was asleep in five minutes and didn't wake up until after 9 AM the next morning. Andy stayed up a while listening to CDs. His conscious was bothering him about what he had done. He'd been so caught up in the excitement of getting a human subject to test the drug on that, maybe, he hadn't given as much thought as he should have to what he was going to do to that subject. The drug needed a dramatic result that couldn't be easily faked, and changing Phil's sex had seemed to be the perfect choice. But, dammit, Phil was his best friend. Phil trusted him, and this was certainly _not_ what he'd expecting. Andy just hoped that Phil would eventually forgive him. ***** Andy had been up for over an hour by the time Phil came down. He would have liked to get in some early morning fishing, but he didn't want to go alone, and he didn't want to wake Phil. If the drug was working, it would draw off the body's energy. Phil would need all the sleep he could get. Phil came staggering downstairs, still a little groggy from sleep. Andy poured him some coffee. (They normally took turns cooking on their fishing trips.) He noticed that Phil's arm looked a little thinner as the man took the coffee cup, and -- good grief! -- his arm was hairless. He watched Phil drink the coffee. His arms, his whole body did look a bit thinner. Phil had slept in just his t-shirt and shorts. His body hair, which had been fairly thick, was just about gone. Only a fine down remained. His facial hair was just about gone as well except for his eyebrows. The hair atop his head seemed a little longer, though, as if he'd gone about six weeks without a haircut. Phil saw Andy looking at him. "What?" he said. "I was just about to ask what you wanted for breakfast. How you feeling this morning?" "Toast and eggs -- hard scramble, please. I'm still tired, even if I did sleep almost twelve hours. If your stuff doesn't work, maybe you can sell it as a sleep aid." Andy handed him three slices of toast, previously made and waiting. Phil buttered a slice and took a bite. "So, you didn't tell me last night. What did you tell my brain to do to me?" Andy was at the stove working on Phil's eggs. "Finish your breakfast first. There'll be plenty of time to talk later." "Yes, Mother. I've got to tell you, though. You're getting me very curious. Can we talk about fishing, at least?" "Yeah, why don't you tell me about this miracle lure that's going to empty the lake of bass." Phil repeated what he'd said about the lure, embellishing his story with a couple of successes from a solo trip about two weeks before to a river both men knew. That turned the talk to the subject of different sites and a comparison of fishing rivers and lakes. By the time they began arguing over the best places to fish there at Lake Cody, Phil had finished his eggs. "Good breakfast," he said carrying his dirty plate to the dishwasher. "It'll be hours before I'm ready to make, let alone eat, lunch. Now, what's going to happen to me from your damned drug." "Let's go sit in the living room," Andy said. They both knew he was stalling. Much longer and Phil was going to get nervous. Not that he'd be happy when he was told. When the two were seated, Andy said, "There's no way to soften it, so I won't try. I had you drink a glass of water, and told you that it was a second drug. One that was going to turn you into a woman." "What! Why you son of a bitch. Is this your idea of a joke?" "No. Now think for a minute. The effect had to be dramatic and hard to fake. And I couldn't go for anything silly like those horns you mentioned last night. Can you think of anything that fits that better than a sex change? Unless, you wanted me to cut off a finger, and then tell it to grow back." Phil sat and thought about what Andy had said. Rational thinking and knowing how people -- how juries -- reacted to different kinds of evidence was a big part of what he did for a living. Finally, he asked in as calm a voice as he could manage, "if it works, can you change me back?" "As far as I can tell, yes. We couldn't create any physical changes from the drug in our animal tests, but they were as physiologically susceptible to it the fifth time we administered it as they were the first time. It should work on you a second time." "Is it working? Can you tell yet?" "Yes, it is. Look at your arms and chest. That mat of hair you used to brag about is just about gone. You don't need a shave either." Phil looked at his arms, and his eyes widened in surprise. He rubbed his chin. "No shaving. Well, that, at least, is a bright spot." Then he absentmindedly scratched his chest. "I guess that's why my chest's been feeling funny all morning. I'm not used to feeling the shirt against bare skin." "It may be something else," Andy said. "Take off your shirt." Phil pulled his shirt off over his head. Andy saw that he had not only lost most of his body hair but was actually a bit thinner. His nipples, though, were bigger. They were the size of pencil erasers, and the aureoles around them had gotten darker. Andy gently touched one with a finger tip. "Hey," Phil yelled, pulling away. "Those things are tender." "Tits generally are." "Tits! I can't have tits. I'm a guy." "I'm not too sure any more. Tenderness like that is typical for a young girl whose breasts are starting to grow." "So, I -- I am turning into a woman?" "Yeah, come on over to the camera. I want to get this on film." Phil walked over and stood where he had the night before. Andy started the camera and began to talk. "Subject at -- at about roughly 14 hours, 30 minutes after administering of the drug and the subsequent hypnotic suggestion. There is a degradation of muscle mass and a loss of almost all body hair. There is a -- hold still for a close-up -- a tenderness and darkening of the nipples comparable with a young female at the onset of puberty." He clicked off the mike. "Now, drop your shorts." "What!" "Drop them. I want to see if anything's happened down -- well, down there." Phil pulled his shorts down past his hips -- did they seem a little wider? -- and let them fall to the floor. He stood still for the camera, but he was looking down, trying to see if there was any change. Andy panned the camera down. Since he didn't want to give any hint of what he was going to do, he hadn't taken any measurements of Phil's genitals. It seemed now that he hadn't needed to; the difference would be obvious on the video. Last night, Phil had the sexual equipment of a grown man. Now they were much smaller. They looked like they belonged on a ten year old, and they were nested in the only visible hair on Phil's body, a triangular patch growing in the familiar -- and female -- pattern of an inverted triangle. Phil spoke again into the small microphone attached to the camera. "A simple visual comparison of the subject's genitals reveals an obvious reduction in size. They are now the size of those more properly found on a pre-pubescent male. Moreover, pubic hair has assumed a female growth pattern. Following this recording session, we will determine if the subject is still able to ejaculate." He clicked off the camera. "What! Are you asking me to jack off for you? Or do you want to do give me a hand job, _doctor_?" "You can do yourself, thank you, but ten bucks says you can't." "You're on!" Phil reached down and pulled up his shorts. "Wait a minute, and drop the shorts again. I'm not done yet." When Phil was again ready, Andy turned the mike back on. "Overall changes to the frame are quite apparent, as well. Measurements will be taken for comparison with the original." He clicked off the mike. "Turn around once, so I get a record of how you look from behind," Andy said. When Phil did, Andy said, "Nice butt, thanks." "Thank you, kind sir. What did you mean by 'comparison with the original'?" "I talked to somebody at Mantero's, where you get your suits made. I showed him that release you signed, and he gave me your measurements. Tailors keep records, so a customer won't have to be checked every time he orders a pair of pants." Andy quickly took Phil's new measurements, hips, waist, and chest, width of shoulders, circumference of upper arm and upper leg, and instep. Then he handed Phil another empty vial. "Here. You've got half an hour to jack off. Fill this, then get dressed, so we can go fishing." ***** Phil came back downstairs about forty minutes later with a disgusted look on his face. He was wearing an old sweat shirt and pair of jeans that looked a little baggy on him. He handed Andy the vial. It had about a quarter of an inch of clear fluid inside. "You and your damned drug. First, I could barely hold on; I'd gotten so small. Then, I went through every fantasy I have and most of my real experiences before I even got this much. And now I get to pay you ten bucks for the privilege." "No, I'll pay. I didn't even think you get this much." Andy made some notes on another label, stuck it on the vial, then placed the vial in the holder in the lab fridge. "For changes on the level we're seeing, your whole endocrine system has to have accepted the suggestion. This is absolutely incredible." "You'll excuse me if I don't join in the celebration." "You should. You're going to be as rich as I will. Richer, considering how much money you've al ready got." "What? Oh, of course. I've proven that the damned stuff works." "Not yet, you haven't. But what we've seen so far is a pretty good start. If you make anywhere near to a complete transition to female, we'll have indisputable proof. Proof that can get me all the funding I need to fully develop the stuff. This is one major breakthrough." "How complete a 'transition'? I'm not going to grow a -- a vagina am I? Can I?" "I honestly don't know. The structure of the male an female reproductive systems are very similar, despite the obvious visual differences. I told your mind that you were going to become female. You're a big boy; you know how boys and girls are different. We'll just see what happens." "Swell. Let's go fishing. I need something to take my mind off this." Andy insisted on taking another blood sample first, and Phil still had to pack them a lunch, but they eventually did get out to the lake to fish. ***** By the time the two returned from fishing that evening, the changes were even more visible. Phil's face had become somewhat thinner, and his cheekbones seemed to have lifted higher on his face. His hair was well down over his ears, and he could feel it against his neck when he moved his head. His hands were thinner and more delicate, with long tapering fingers. Two small lumps pushed out from beneath his sweat shirt, and his pants seemed definitely tighter around the hips. They'd talked quietly until mid afternoon, when Phil's voice had cracked. He glowered at Andy for several minutes and refused to say anything that wasn't absolutely necessary for over an hour. Now, he was talking again, but his voice, formally, a rich baritone, was well into the alto range. "Well," Andy said, holding up the string of fish the two men had caught. "How about these for supper?" "Sounds good. Do you mind if I lay down while you fix them? I've been feeling tired all day." It was only too true. Phil was as good a fisherman as Andy was, but most of the fish on the line were Andy's. "No, go ahead. I'm not surprised that you're tired. Your body is using a lot of energy to fuel the changes. After dinner, I'd like to take some more readings. Take some blood, too." "Swell. I was wondering what I'd do this evening to keep busy." He yawned and turned for the stairs. See you later." He waved over his shoulder and headed up to his bedroom. ***** Two hours later, they had finished dinner and were back in the living room. Andy had Phil roll up his sleeve and took a blood sample. "Why don't you strip down to your shorts while I put this away." Phil did. His body was slender and feminine. His chest now sported a pair of A-cup breasts. His waist was a bit higher and much narrower. His hips and butt swelled outward above a pair of long delicately curved legs. He had always been considered a good looking man, and now he was well on his way to becoming a very beautiful woman. Andy was surprised at the extent of the changes in his friend. His first impulse was to make a joke. But Andy realized how upset Phil must be with what was happening to him. He put on his best professional persona and walked over to the camera. "Okay," Andy said. "I'm ready. Drop your shorts so we can get started." "Now there's a straight line." Phil bent down, conscious of the new weight on his chest. He yanked his shorts down passed his hips. Don't look, he thought trying hard not to even glance at his groin. You don't want to see how little they've gotten. Andy looked at his watch and started the camera, speaking into the attached microphone as soon as it was ready. It is now about twenty-five hours since subject was injected with the drum. Female characteristics are noticeable. Breasts have begun to develop, and his waist and hips now conform to the aesthetic standards for that sex. Now he focused the camera for another close-up of Phil's groin. "There is further shrinkage of the subject's genitals. The penis now appears to be the size of a five-year old's, and the scrotal sack seems even smaller. There is no obvious evidence of testicles within them." He clicked off the mike again and walked over to Phil, squatting down next to him. "Now don't move. This shouldn't hurt, but it will feel strange." He placed his hand under Phil's genitals and gently lifted them up, so they were more visible to the camera. "Don't talk either. The mike's back on." "The scrotal sack, as can be seen, is smaller in relationship to the size of the penis. Testicles _are_ still present, but they appear to be withdrawing into the subject's body. Ejaculation and even tumescence would seem unlikely." Andy looked closely at Phil's penis for a minute, then lifted it to show the underside to the camera. "The urethra also appears to be migrating downward. Considering the arrangement of the female analogs that the subject's body are acquiring, this is to be expected." He shut off the mike and gently released Phil's genitals." "What was all that double talk just now," Phil asked. "Your peehole isn't at the end of your prick any more. It's moved about halfway down on the underside. You'll have to sit down to urinate for a while." "What! Oh, I get it. If I'm going to be a girl, then my prick becomes a clitoris, and the urine comes out someplace else." "Exactly." He shut off the camera. He took the same set of physical measurements that he'd taken in the morning. He also checked Phil's new breasts which _were_ almost an A-cup. Once he had entered the new data, he put the notebook down and said, "Now get dressed, while I get a fresh syringe. Time to feed the vampire." As Phil got dressed, he noticed that even his feet were changing, getting smaller. He had a little trouble getting his jeans passed his wider hips, and he had to use the very last loop on his belt. Even so, his pants were loose at the waist. His nipples weren't as tender as they had been that morning, but the coarse material of his cotton undershirt wasn't exactly comfortable when it rubbed against them. Andy took another blood sample. When he came back from putting it in the store room/lab refrigerator, Phil said, "It's a good thing I won't be a girl very long." "Why do you say that?" "My clothes. I haven't a thing to wear." He laughed at the joke and at the stunned expression on Andy's face. "Seriously, though. The way I'm changing, my clothes aren't likely to fit me. I could barely get my pants on, and I'll need to put on two pairs of socks tomorrow, or I'll walk right out of my shoes." "I'm sorry, Phil. I'll need you to stay a girl for at least two days. Now don't get upset. I need to make sure that the changes have stabilized and that the original dose of the drug has washed completely out of your body before I give you another one." "Terrific. Are you this slow at giving the details out to _all_ of your test subjects?" "Can I get by if I say that you never asked? Look, two days to change, two as a girl, and two to change back. We'll have a whole week to fish afterwards. And you get to relax those two days as a girl, while I get to do lab work. I'll probably have to do more from the samples that I take while you're changing back." "Okay, I'm convinced. You're suffering, too. But I'm still going to need stuff to wear while I'm a girl. I can't walk around naked. I'm not that kind of girl." He started to laugh, but it became a high pitched and very feminine giggle. He stopped in surprise and embarrassment. "Or maybe I am." Then he laughed again, and Andy joined him. "Okay, okay. My best guess is that the change should be just about finished by tomorrow afternoon. We'll drive over to Easterbridge Mall and get you some appropriate clothes. My treat." "Oh, goody! Shopping," Phil said mimicking the stereotypical female response. Then he yawned. "Damn, I'm sleepy again, and it's barely 9 PM. See you in the morning." ***** Andy was up well ahead of Phil again the next morning, even though he'd stayed up several hours after his friend went to bed. He had wanted to make certain that he had all the equipment that he'd intended to bring, and he wanted to plan out the specific tests he wanted to do. He was sitting at the work table testing a circuit, when he heard a noise behind him. He turned to look. Phil was standing in the doorway wearing only a t-shirt and shorts. Or, rather, the person Phil had become. The figure in the doorway gave no hint of ever having been male. His hair hung down almost to his shoulders. His eyes seemed bigger; his lashes certainly were. His lips were full and pouty. His figure was a series of female curves: large breasts that tented out the t-shirt, lifting it high to reveal his flat stomach and narrow waist. The shorts were tight against a wide pair of hips, and his legs were long and slender. They'd look fabulous in heels, he thought. "I think I'm done, now." Phil said. He was a soprano now, his voice high and clear, though not high enough to sound childish. "I went to the can when I got up. The equipment's all girl as far as I can tell." Andy swallowed, feeling his own penis stiffen. Phil was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen, and Andy didn't want to embarrass either of them by showing the sexual attraction that he was feeling. "Let's check you out then," he said. As he followed Phil into the living room, Andy noted that Phil's walk had also become much more feminine. Part of that would have been the changes to his body, but Andy suspected that part of it might also be psychological. Andy also noticed the delightful curves of Phil's reshaped ass as it moved beneath his shorts while he walked. Phil sat in the chair, waiting while Andy readied the camera. Andy saw that he had sat in a feminine manner, one leg crossed over the other above the knee. Andy decided that he'd ask about these new behaviors once he had the new pictures. "Okay, I'm ready to start. Please take off your clothes." Both of them noticed the "please", but neither said anything. Phil smiled a small smile. Andy told himself that it was the natural reaction to an attractive women. Phil stood up and pulled the t-shirt off slowly over his head, not wanting to accidentally injure his new breasts. They were lovely: perfectly formed pale melons with dark nipples in the middle of areolas the size of half dollars, a C-cup at least. He pulled the shorts past his wide hips and simply let them fall to the ground. Then he stood naked in the classic feminine pose, one knee slightly bent, his left hand resting on his hip. "Well, what do you think?" Phil asked. "Am I a girl?" "Look like one to me. Now be quiet, while I do the narration." Andy looked at his watch and clicked on the mike. "At roughly thirty-five hours since the injection, the transformation appears to be complete. The subject, as is readily apparent, now exhibits all of the secondary sexual characteristics of a female. There is also some apparent change in motor behavior, which will be discussed on audio tapes." Andy zoomed the camera in on Phil's breasts. He clicked off the mike. "I'm going to have to touch you in some places. It's necessary as part of the exam. Try not to squirm, please." He turned the mike back on and walked over to Phil continuing to talk. "The nipples are well formed." He touched Phil's breast in several places, gently pushing with his fingers. Then he rubbed the nipple with a finger. Phil shivered slightly but tried not to move. Andy noticed that the nipple seemed to react, moving just a bit. Growing more erect, he wondered. He also noticed that his touch had raised tiny goose bumps in Phil's skin. "THERE appear to be no nodes or malformations within the breast tissue. The nipples also appear normal, albeit still sensitive to the touch." He clicked off the mike and went back to the camera. "Now spread your legs. I want to do a quick genital exam." "Not unless you buy me dinner first." "Cute. Just be glad that I don't have a set of stirrups and a speculum. Now legs apart; Here comes Mr. Camera." He took the camera carefully off its tripod and walked over to where Phil was sitting. Phil glowered at him for a moment, then moved his knees wide apart. Andy moved in close. This time, he put on a pair of rubber gloves before he actually touched Phil. It was all there, labia, vagina, even a hymen. "Believe it or not," Andy said. "You're a virgin." "And I'm going to stay one, thank you. So watch those hands!" "You sure?" Andy smiled and gently touched Phil's clitoris, then rubbed it slowly back and forth. Phil's eyes grew wide. His head tilted back, his mouth open. His breathing began to get heavy. Then he suddenly realized what was happening and pushed Andy away. "You bastard!" he yelled. "If you did that to one of your other patients, you'd lose your license." "I'm sorry, man -- uh, Phil. I only meant it as a joke. I hadn't expected near as strong a reaction. You seem to be a lot more sensitive than most women down There. I think it's because the structures are newly reformed. Anyway, you're right it was totally unfair and unprofessional. I sincerely apologize. Am I forgiven" "I'll think about it. Just finish the damned exam and let me get dressed." "Okay." Andy finished describing Phil's new, totally female genitals. He had him stand and quickly took another set of measurements. He let Phil hold the tape when he measured Phil's breasts. Phil was a 38-C, actually almost a D-cup. Phil put his t-shirt and shorts back on and sat down, while Andy took the blood sample. When Andy came back from putting the sample away, Phil said, "So what am I going to wear? My clothes don't exactly fit any more." "I told you, we'll go shopping. Did you bring a sweat suit?" "Yeah, for that mini-gym in the basement." "Okay, that should do to get us to the mall. Put on two pairs of sox, like you said yesterday." "What about sizes? I can't very well ask a salesgirl what size I am." "I've got that figured. Here" He tossed Phil a mail-order catalog. The order form had a conversion chart next to it. They compared Phil's new measurements to the woman's size chart and soon had a complete list of his new sizes. "Okay," Andy said, "let's go get dressed." ***** Fifteen minutes later, the two were in Andy's car. He wore a pair of jeans, a Whitmere sweat shirt, and a pair of sneakers. Phil wore an anonymous gray sweat shirt, but he'd discovered to his chagrin that he'd brought gym shorts, rather than sweat pants. They were loose at the waist but rather tight against his wide hips and round butt. They also showed his slender legs off to their best advantage. As a courtesy to its guests, the lodge stocked some gym outfits and swim suits in an upstairs closet. There were no long pants among the male gym clothes, and Phil had refused to wear any of the women's spandex. But he had found a pair of low sandals that fit fairly well, and he was wearing those. "Do you mind if I ask you a question," Andy said while he drove. "No, go ahead." "I've noticed that you're moving in a more feminine manner this morning, the way you walk and how you sat in the chair, for instance. Are you doing it consciously?" "Some. But it seems natural to me. It's like, well, sometimes I have to think about it to act in a feminine way, and sometimes, I have to think about it to act like a man." "I guess your mind decided that my suggestion to turn into a woman included your behavior as well as your anatomy." "Suggestion! That's a helluva way to describe it. You owe me big for this." "Ask me about it six months from now when we're both millionaires, and I'm a Nobel Laureate." "You sure that will happen?" "Pretty sure. If I can turn you into a woman, growing a new limb on an amputee should be easy. What I'm wondering is if I can tell somebody that his cancer is going away or that his kidneys work again. Tell them and have _that_ happen." "You figure out how to do that, and you'll deserve all the money they're going to throw at you." Phil saw the mall just ahead. "Hey, we're here." Phil pulled into the mall. It was early enough that there was still good parking. Andy found a spot near the Sears, and the two went in. Andy held the doors as Phil, smiling, walked through. Andy caught himself looking at Phil's long slender legs and watching his ass sway as he walked. Stop that, he thought to himself. He may look like a girl, but there's a man inside that body, your oldest friend. You don't want to screw things -- oh, hell, why had he thought 'screw' -- you don't want to _mess_ things up by getting crazy with him. Andy handed Phil the list of his new sizes. Phil looked at the list. Andy had put a list under it on the sheet: 3 pair bra and panties, 3 blouses, 3 pairs of women's jeans, 3 pair socks, sneakers, nightgown. "Why three," he said. I thought that I was only going to have to be a girl for two days. You pulling a fast one?" "No, I figured that you'd need some of it for the transition day back. Plus, you might want a change of clothes during the day. I'm paying for it, so don't worry about it. Just don't go crazy and buy the most expensive stuff you can find. I'm a poor academic, not a rich lawyer." "We'll both be rich, when the word gets out on your stuff. But I do promise. Don't worry, you'll be there to watch me shop." "The heck I will. Have you ever gone into a ladies' wear department with any of your women friends?" By now, the pair were at the edge of what Phil had always thought of as 'No Man's Land', the women's clothing department. "No, but I'm not a -- oh, hell, I guess I am. Okay, coward, where will you be while I'm buying out the store?" "Looking at the fishing gear, of course." He pointed to a large clock on the wall nearby. There were a number of them all over the store. "It's 10:15. I'll meet you back here in an hour." ***** Andy almost didn't get back in time. There was a demonstration of a new composite pole that he stayed to watch. At the last minute, he looked at his watch And hurried away. to meet Phil. Phil was waiting, but it was a much different Phil. Andy watched in amazement as he walked towards him, smiling and hips swaying. His sweats were in a bag, and he was decked out in a pair of light blue designer jeans that hugged every delicious curve and a matching cotton top with scalloped sleeves and a neckline that was cut low enough in front to show quite a bit of rounded bosom. His hair was tied in a ponytail with a pale blue scarf that seemed like a flag in his long silky black hair. Phil flashed Andy a smile, and Andy noticed that Phil was wearing lipstick, too. "There you are, cousin," Phil said. "Hurry up. I've been waiting for you to pay for all this stuff." Then he whispered, "just play along, Andy." Phil took Andy by the hand and lead him to a nearby counter piled high with boxes. A woman clerk, a plump, rather pleasant looking woman in her forties was standing behind it. "Here's my cousin, at last. Pay the nice lady for my stuff, please." Andy handed his credit card to the clerk. Phil kept talking . "I was so worried when the airline lost all my luggage. It was sweet of you, cousin Andy, to offer to buy me this new stuff. I promise I'll pay you back when I get home." Andy signed for the clothes. He took two bags and Phil took the other, and they walked towards the exit. "What was all that 'cousin' stuff back there?" "Sorry about that. I needed some sort of explanation why you were buying my clothes, and I wasn't gonna say you were my boyfriend." "So you had to gush at me like that. I felt like an idiot." Phil giggled. "I didn't like it either, but it was the easiest way to tell you my -- you should excuse the expression -- cover story. I had to get her to trust me, so I could change out of those sweats." She stopped. "You haven't told me how I look." She stepped back and posed, arms raised and one knee bent. "Very nice. You look very nice. But I'm beginning to wonder just how much your mind's been affected by this?" "I don't know, and I'd worry about it, too, but I'm confident that you can change me back." Andy remembered that part of his suggestion had also been that Phil would trust him. He hoped the trust was justified. "In the meantime," Phil continued, "something else is affecting me." "What --what's the matter?" "I'm hungry. We never did have breakfast, and that pizza smells pretty good. How about an early lunch, cousin Andy?" Andy groaned a little at the joke, but they went in. It was still a bit early, and the place was mostly empty. They took a booth in the corner for privacy. There were menus on the table, and they looked at them for a minute or two. A waitress, a tall, thin brunette who looked like she might still be in high school came over. "Are you ready to order," she said to Andy. "Yes, thanks," Andy said. "We'll have a medium pizza, half extra cheese, half ground beef; two sodas each, one now, one when you bring the food. Coke for me and a diet coke for the lady." Only then did he turn to Phil. "That okay with you?" Phil was so surprised he could only nod his head. The meal was what they probably would have ordered, but Andy hadn't bothered to ask. He'd just taken the lead, as if they were a couple on a date. What surprised Phil even more was that he'd gone along with it, and that it had felt comfortable to do so. Phil realized that his trust in Andy wasn't natural, though he wasn't sure exactly what it was. Whatever it was, it was very strong, maybe too strong. Any worrisome thought went away as soon as he thought of Andy. Phil actually found himself feeling better being around Andy, seeking him for just that reason. He didn't like it. But even as Phil thought about it, he realized that Andy was there with him. He felt his concerns fading away. Why worry when Andy had told him that he could fix things? The waitress brought the cokes. Phil realized that his mouth was very dry and took a long drink. He licked his lips, tasting the lipstick he had bought on an impulse. "What's the matter, um, say, what do I call you?" "How about we stick with 'Phil'? Anybody asks, we can say it's short for 'Phyllis'." "Okay. What's the matter, um, Phil?" "The whole change is getting me down. You messed with my head, I think, as much as you messed with my body. But I can't seem to get worried about it. I'm a lawyer. Worrying about -- planning for -- the possibilities of a situation is what I do." "I'm sorry. I told you not to worry about what was going to happen. I didn't want your conscious and your unconscious minds fighting each other. Is it really that big a deal?" "I'm not sure. Every time I begin to think about what's happened to me, I seem to think of you and get distracted. It just bothers me. That's all." "You seem to be adjusting well enough. I'd say just go with the flow and use this as a chance to see how the other half lives. I'll be giving you the injection to change back tomorrow night, so whatever happens, it'll only be for the next day or so." "Then we go fishing?" "Then we go fishing." The waitress brought the pizza, and they stopped talking for a few minutes. Normally, each would have eaten half the pie, but Phil discovered that his stomach had changed along with everything else. A slice and a half and he couldn't eat any more. Andy only had eaten a couple of slices, too, not wanting to pig out when Phil couldn't. "Don't worry about it," Andy said. He had the extra slices put in a 'doggy bag', and they headed out to the car. On the way back, he asked, "so, what are you going to be doing this afternoon?" "What do you mean?" "I have to go play 'mad scientist' and start the analysis of those samples I took. Some of the tests I want to do take hours to set up and run." "Gee, I don't know. I still feel a little tired, so I may take a nap. Then maybe some fishing; get a leg up on you in trying out my new fishing gear." "Okay, just remember that your upper arm strength is only about thirty percent of normal. You'll have a harder time pulling in big ones or even smaller ones that put up a fight." "I hadn't thought of that. Maybe I'll just read. I spend so much work time reading legal documents, that I don't get a chance to read for pleasure much anymore." "Whatever. I'll set a timer in the lab, so I remember to come out to fix dinner. Hey, here we are." Andy headed for the small lab that he'd set up, and Phil went upstairs. He napped for about an hour, sleeping in his new clothes. When he woke up, he felt more like doing something active than reading. There was an indoor pool set in what had been the barn. It was connected to the house by a tunnel in the basement, so it could be gotten to in the colder weather. Phil took one of the women's swim suits from the storage closet, a shimmering green one piece that looked like it would fit. He couldn't help admire himself in the bedroom mirror once he'd changed. The suit was cut high to show leg. It did. Phil's were long and had just the right curve. The suit itself hugged him narrow waist and wide hips. It was a little small in the chest. Not enough to be uncomfortable, but enough to push his breasts up, making them look even bigger. As he posed in the mirror, he felt his nipples tingling. Phil realized that he was still male enough mentally to get turned on by his new body, even if the physical reaction was a female one. Phil walked over to the barn through the tunnel, since it was a little cool to go outside in jut a swim suit. The pool was heated by a timer that the caretaker had turned on the day before the two friends had arrived. Phil found a white swim cap and put it on. Then he dove in. He swam laps for about forty minutes. His arms weren't as strong, but his body seemed lighter. It was an even enough swap for a man who normally tried to swim at least once a week. He climbed out and found robes and towels in the lockers by the pool. He put on one of the robes and wrapped a towel in a turban over his wet hair. Somebody had left a Tom Clancy novel on a previous visit, and it was on a shelf in the same locker. Phil liked Clancy, and this was one he hadn't read yet. He curled up on a deck chair and read for a good part of the afternoon. Just before 5 PM, he stopped and swam another set of laps, partly to work the kinks out and partly to try to work up more of an appetite for the supper he knew Andy was fixing. Coming back up from the basement Phil could smell dinner cooking. Both he and Andy had learned to cook while they were in college, but Andy was the better of the two. Phil's mouth began to water at the smells. He decided to stay downstairs and read till supper was ready. He sat on the couch and continued reading Clancy. Supper was almost ready, so Andy went in to set the table. He saw Phil on the couch. "Hey, lazybones," he said. "How about helping out by setting the table. We're having baked chicken and veggies. Get some beer out, too." He went back into the kitchen without waiting for an answer. Phil put the book down and got dishes, napkins, and silverware from a sideboard. The table was set a few minutes later. She took a four cans of beer from the refrigerator, putting in a fresh six-pack for later. He brought the cans in to the table. "Ready when you are, Andy," he called. Andy came in a few minutes later carrying a dish full of chicken. He then brought in vegetables while Phil carried in the salad. They sat down and began serving themselves. "Why so fancy," Phil asked. "I half expected you to heat up the pizza from lunch; or maybe make a couple burgers." "I don't know. I haven't cooked in a while, so I thought I'd do something more than just 'nuke' a quick meal in the microwave." Andy knew that Phil was something of a gourmet, and he thought Phil deserved some extra effort for what he was going through. But sitting there watching, it was hard to remember that this gorgeous woman sitting across from him was his old friend. Her voice, her mannerisms seemed to be totally female. After the meal, they went into the living room, taking more beer in with them. The house had cable and they channel surfed looking for a good movie. They settled on an old movie about Paul Newman as a broken down lawyer. Phil had seen it before and enjoyed the court room scenes and the way the actors gotten the life of a lawyer fairly right. But this time, though, he found himself noticing the love story a lot more. What he didn't notice was the way he and Andy were gradually moving closer together on the couch. By the middle of the movie, Phil was leaning against Andy's chest, and he had his arm around Phil. Towards the end, when Newman's case seems lost, and he discovers that the woman he's been attracted to works for the opposing lawyer, Phil found himself sniffling. Andy pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and daubed at Phil's eyes. It's okay, man. You know how the movie ends. Without thinking, he leaned over slightly and touched Phil's cheek. Phil turned his head. They were only inches apart. New feminine instincts took over. Phil's arm reached up to pull Andy's head closer, and they kissed. Phil felt his nipples beginning to tingle. He'd never realized Andy was such a good kisser. Andy! He was kissing Andy! Phil broke the kiss and leapt from the couch. "What -- what's the matter," Andy said. "What's the matter? We were kissing. And you were enjoying it, you perverted SOB" "I guess I was. Dammit, Phil. I know you're a man. But right now, you're a girl. A damned attractive one who gave in to the movie and the mood and the beer for a minute. Don't let it spook you." "Don't let it '_spook_' me." But even as Phil said it, he felt the hypnotic suggestion beginning to take effect. Sure, it was scary to be reacting as a women, but Andy said that it was okay. He trusted Andy, trusted him completely. "I'm -- I'm okay. But I think that I need to go up to bed now. I'll see you in the morning." He turned and tried to _calmly_ walk to the stairs, when every instinct was telling him to run. ****** Andy turned off the TV. Damn! He hadn't meant to do that. What he said about the beer was as true for him as it was for Phil. He just hoped that he hadn't destroyed the friendship between the two of them. And why did Phil have to be such an attractive woman? Upstairs, Phil had slammed the door behind him and thrown himself on the bed. He was crying again. What was happening to him? Even now he was acting like a female, and he didn't like it. He was used to being in more control of himself. It was the beer, but it was him, too. He and Andy had been friends for almost half their lives, but this change -- it added a whole new dimension to the friendship. And it was a dimension that part of him, at least, was curious to explore. He wiped his eyes and decided to get ready for bed. Besides, the swim suit was beginning to feel a little clammy. He peeled it off and hung it over the shower rod in the bathroom. Turning around, he caught a glimpse of himself in the large mirror above the sink. It was the first time that he'd _really_ seen himself since the change. Lord, but he was beautiful. he saw breasts, firm and high, well more than a handful with nipples that begged to be touched; a narrow waist that flared out to a pair of hips that were made for bearing babies; and long slender legs with just the right amount of curve. He turned and looked back over his shoulder at the mirror. The ass wasn't bad either. The face, well, he looked a lot like his cute cousin, Joanie, only -- he hated to even think it -- a lot prettier. His eyes had never been that big, had they? And his lips, what was with that pout? He stopped staring and walked back into the bedroom, conscious of the extra weight on his chest and the way his hips swayed as he walked. Do women get this turned on every time they walk, he thought. No, they must get used to it in time. He sat on the bed and absentmindedly touched his left nipple. A jolt of pleasure shot through his body. He touched it again, this time deliberately. He had years of experience at arousing women, and he applied it to his own body. He cupped his breasts, running a nail along the sensitive flesh, tweaking at the nipples. The sensations were incredible. His head tilted back, his mouth open but unable to speak. He wanted more. One hand had left his breast, and he felt his fingers sliding gently along his labia. One finger slipped within to find his clitoris, while another moved in to his vagina. He began to move his hand back and forth. Phil fell back onto the bed, no longer able to sit upright. His head rocked back and forth, and he began to moan. Pleasure was shooting out from his breasts and his groin to every part of his body. His hips began to move, matching the movements of his hand. His groin felt very warm and very, very wet. The feelings grew stronger and stronger. He was frantic. Suddenly a great bolt of sexual energy exploded throughout his body. Surprised by its intensity, he stopped moving and just enjoyed the thrill of his first female orgasm. As the edge of pleasure began to fade, the remnants of his masculine ego asserted itself. He forced himself to stop, even though his body was