Bob Part 1 free porn video

Introduction This multipart story was created to put on paper some ideas that have been running through my mind after reading stories like the 'FemCorps' series and a few others. I apologize if it might appear too similar to 'FemCorps' or any other story. There is no direct intent to plagiarism, and I hope that those writers are flattered that anyone would want to use that basic story concept. I think you will see that it is not really a copy or even a continuation of that story. Bob By Evenrude Earth has been beset by a little understood affliction that somehow caused an inordinate number of male children relative to female to be conceived. The ratio disparity started small, almost unnoticeable, but has continued to expand until in many areas there are typically eight males born for every female child. At first, this was considered a "good thing" especially in some cultures where male offspring had always been favored over girls but within a generation the very serious shortage of females of childbearing age first seemed a noticeable "unfortunate" situation, then quickly became a problem for society. This dearth of eligible females soon created an undesirable change in the social life of the average male. No longer was it possible to assume that when puberty arrived for the young man, the hormones began to rage and girls began to become very interesting, that those powerful urges could be satisfied by the normal interaction with the opposite sex. A junior high class, which had traditionally hovered around 50/50 male/female, now may not have even one female in an entire co-ed school class, almost never are there more than ten girls out of a hundred students. Those females that are available have their pick of the litter of all the guys, and that means that some, actually most, guys can only look longingly at the feminine object of their dreams as these young ladies willingly become the 'trophies' of the jocks and most popular guys. The average young male simply never has a chance. All these frustrated males soon made the rather charmed lives of the few available females both hazardous and difficult. Young men, frustrated by their powerful, but almost hopeless desire for female companionship often became involved in illegal activities like stalking, rape and abduction. It was hard to blame them. There was little chance that most of them would ever even go on a date with a girl, much less experience intimate relations with one. In a desperate attempt to reduce the instances of rape, prostitution was made legal throughout the USA, but it didn't change the fact that there were very few women who would choose to participate. Since so many options were available, for even the plainest of women, there was simply no need to engage in a degrading activity like that when there were plenty of wealthy men needing and wanting wives. The distinct lack of women soon became a problem all over the world. The USA first attempted to correct the crisis by using the same technology that probably caused it. They put the best scientists and genetics experts on the problem and using a derivative of the same gene-altering chemical, they soon created a concoction that, if successful when injected directly into the testicles of a normal male, would change chromosomes to encourage more and stronger XX spermatozoa to be created. It is the chromosomes of the male sperm that fertilized the mother's egg determine the gender of a human fetus. The egg of course, has the unique ability to develop either way. Research had determined that the gender ratio problem was somehow the result of an abnormal number of XY chromosomes in most male sperm. The intent was to modify that ratio back to a more reasonable level. This was the plan, but the result was not as expected. Instead of just altering the DNA of the subject's sperm composition, the testicular injection caused the subjected male to become feminized, eventually attaining almost complete feminine physical characteristics and appearance. This change didn't happen overnight however. That wasn't the original intent of the injection, of course. Remember, the expected result was that it would cause the treated male to produce chromosomally altered spermatozoa that hopefully would result in more females being conceived. The original chemical compositions were rather crude when compared to what has been learned since, and the first injection experiment that displayed any noticeable results at all caused an almost immediate reduction or elimination of the injected male subject's primary masculine sexual characteristics, specifically the penis and scrotum. Within just a few hours of the testicular injection of the chemical, those body parts began whither and withdraw into the body, leaving the unfortunate male subject with a groin more closely resembling that of a pre-pubescent female. Fortunately, there was apparently no significant pain involved in this complex transformation, but the psychological trauma it initially caused was difficult to address. The first subject who "volunteered" to inject the 'chemical' soon became withdrawn and moody after the body altering changes began. Who would even 'volunteer' for such an experiment you ask? Actually, getting the first volunteer was easy. Bob Our nations federal and state prisons were becoming over- crowded with young men convicted of sex crimes. Men who in other times would have just been normal law abiding citizens found themselves incarcerated for many years after forcing themselves on a woman in a desperate attempt at a chance to experience heterosexual intercourse. Rape had become so commonplace that state laws were changed to remove the death penalty where it existed, but it was still considered a serious crime, usually incurring years of incarceration. In an attempt to relieve the prison over-population and also provide useful activities for these men, non-violent inmates were frequently offered reductions of their sentence if they voluntarily participated in various types of medical experiments or commercial tests. Most of these tests were very routine experiments to verify the safety and effectiveness of new patent or prescription medications and personal hygiene products like soaps, shampoos and toothpaste. There were other, more hazardous programs though, for substances as diverse as hypertension control medications and weight loss remedies. These higher risk studies also came with the promise of much more significant reductions of prison time. Prisoners with long sentences often selected these higher-risk tests. These men often had little to lose. Inmate 'volunteers' who signed up for any of the experiments or studies were intentionally given very little information about the nature of the test or even any specific details about the risks involved. A boilerplate agreement, stating that any person who volunteered as a willing test subject would be "doing so with the understanding that the experiment or study was of a medical or commercial nature and that it could involve unknown and significant long-term risk to the health and well being of the test participant". That same ominous wording was part of all agreements that were required to be signed by all participants, whether it was a test to evaluate a new face cream or a potential cure for cancer. Many inmates soon became repeat test participants. Regardless of what the test was, an inmate was only permitted to be involved with one program at a time. Most began their testing "careers" with the more simple tests that offered just a few weeks or months off their sentence in exchange for their cooperation. As time went on, and with a few test programs under his belt, the inmate became less wary of the scientists and/or medical personnel. It became easier and easier to justify the tests that were "worth big-time" as the higher risk tests were called. The first inmate to be sedated and then injected (for his privacy, we'll just call him Bob) with the chromosome altering solution awoke in a couple hours, surrounded by excited doctors and scientists, to discover to his total shock that he no longer possessed a penis. Although for a short time Bob retained his male pattern pubic hair, it soon (within just a couple days or so) fell out painlessly. When that occurred, the (at that time) still very masculine looking inmate could view his new shape completely unobstructed. Instead of seeing his penis and testicles, Bob was left with smooth, soft and somewhat puffy looking genitalia very much like that of a pre-pubescent female. As Bob carefully examined the unfamiliar flesh that had only hours before been his male reproductive organs, he soon discovered that all the same nerves were still there, but in a very different, much more concealed configuration. The doctors obviously could no longer allow Bob to rejoin the rest of the prison population, since he had suddenly become much more interesting to his former peers. Often, test participants were withdrawn from the general prison population for the duration of some tests, both for the protection of the subject and also to avoid contamination of the test environment. At the conclusion of those tests, the inmate always rejoined the regular inmate population. But this was very different. It was not anticipated that the injection of chemical might result in what did in fact occur. It was a strange problem to deal with. Strange for the researchers perhaps, but not nearly as weird as it had become for Bob. In any case, the changes looked as if they might be permanent. Out of necessity, Bob was provided with semi-permanent living quarters. He was considered a non-flight risk and a small apartment, located in the short-term housing for clinic staff, within the research facility itself was made available. Bob wasn't made aware of it, but while in those quarters, he was subject to 24-hour observation using concealed video cameras. This surveillance was sometimes done for some types of experiments, for both the protection of the inmate test subject and also to record his reaction to the completely unexpected result of the experiment. It was thought highly possible that the experiment might have continuing effects on Bob. It did. Although Bob initially exhibited a strong "masculine curiosity" about the changed shape of his genitalia, within weeks he reported (or complained of) a complete lack of any sexual feelings at all. Unknown to Bob, for the first three or four days, he was often observed actively masturbating. First by rubbing his still somewhat unfamiliar groin with the flat palm of his hand. Later, he began to focus more directly on what had become apparently a very sensitive clitoris. Within a week or so, Bob's almost constant genital rubbing, touching and examination had diminished to just a short period immediately upon his retiring to bed. In perhaps another week, even that almost completely stopped. It was becoming apparent that the lack of testosterone or other hormones were having a powerful effect on Bob's libido, though he obviously still enjoyed the pleasure of touching his own privates, much as a child might. Soon after this, Bob became very withdrawn and moody. He had already been provided with psychiatric help to deal with his new "condition", but it didn't seem to have any positive effect. At this point, Bob was still considered by everyone, including himself, to be male. His body, with the very obvious exception of his genitalia, still appeared quite masculine. It soon became obvious, both to Bob and the examining physicians, that all was not as it appeared. As Bob struggled to adjust to being male except where it counted most, he soon began to notice and experience other changes. Within a few weeks, during one of the almost daily physical examinations, an observant Dermatologist noticed that Bob's skin was now becoming much softer and smoother. It was as if the young man was becoming younger too. Within a month, almost all the rest of Bob's body hair, except for that on his head, had gone down the shower drain or ended up on the bed linens. Bob's body wasn't exactly devoid of hair, however. The new hair growing back on his legs, arms and chest that immediately replaced the coarse dark masculine hair was the almost invisible, downy soft, 'peach fuzz' of an adolescent child or a young female. Bob's facial hair (which he had always kept cleanly shaved) was soon replaced by this same downy fuzz. Bob's hairless body looked very different now. This caused considerable excitement among the genetics specialists, who hadn't been expecting much physical reaction from their concoction at all. It was evident from the extensive tests that Bob's body could no longer produce testosterone at typical masculine levels, considering the obvious likelihood that his testicles were either undergoing a strange atrophy in their new location, or just as probable, his male gonads were revising themselves to become functioning ovaries, their feminine equivalent. If the latter was occurring, it was now happening slowly, since the measured hormone levels were well below those of a mature or maturing male or female. It would take more time to know what the eventual result would be. About this time, Bob was diplomatically advised of the nature of the experiment he had unwittingly become so intimately involved with. When informed that the tests he volunteered for were part of extensive research to develop a solution to the world's "female" problem, Bob became very irate. "Why didn't you just say what the experiment was about?" He asked, raising his voice, which was most out of character with his, now typical, very quiet nature. "You signed the contract, Bob." He was told. "Didn't you read it?" "Sure I did." Bob replied. "But I sure didn't read anything about me losing my dick in there. You must have had some idea." Bob went on. "I thought there didn't seem to be that much surprise when I woke up looking like this." "There was a remote possibility of a complete chromosomal revision." The project lead physician admitted. "But this is the first time we have observed actual changes to existing body organs, to this extent." "So you've done this before?" Bob asked. "No human tests with the solution you were injected with." He was bluntly informed. "You could have told me this might happen." Bob responded, a little quieter this time. "We were under no requirement to discuss either the nature of the research or any possible results of the experiment with you." The physician countered. "Since we didn't really know what was going to happen, and you signed the agreement, we were and are keeping our side of the contract. You will have three years of your eight-year sentence forgiven. You will be a free man in only three years as agreed." "Yeah... A free man." The Bob mused. "A free man with a pussy." "I do regret any inconvenience this might create for you." The project leader replied. "You will be provided with as much assistance as you require to adapt to the situation. We will keep our part of the agreement. We do not intend to abandon you." "Adapt?" Bob snorted. "And just how do I adapt to something like this?" "I reviewed your record." The project leader shot back, barely able to hide the sarcasm. "You always wanted some pussy, didn't you? Now you've got it." "That is completely uncalled for, George." The lead physician warned. He turned to the inmate. "We are not suggesting the results of this experiment are in any way punitive. We are greatly concerned about your predicament and we will do whatever we can to help you." "Can you give me something to make my dick come back, doc?" Bob asked the doctor, pleading. "I wouldn't say anything is impossible, eventually." The physician replied. "But right now, I don't actually know when that option will be available for us." "Us?" Bob asked sharply. "Gee Doc; I didn't know you were having a problem writing your name in the snow, too." "I don't think you appreciate the concern we have for you." The doctor countered. "Oh, but you're wrong there, Doc." The inmate barked. "I am made very aware of your concern for me each and every time I need to take a leak." The inmate's clever replies caused them all to chuckle. "We will do all we can to help you cope, Bob." The project leader said, putting his hand on the unfortunate inmates shoulder. "I really do mean that." With that, Bob did something that was unexpected by everyone. Tears welled up in the still broad shouldered, almost six foot tall, inmate's eyes. He began to sob uncontrollably. "What am I going to do?" He asked to no one in particular. "What have I become? What am I going to do?" Weeks went by. At about week four, the examining physician discovered a slight lump under Bob's left nipple. The unfortunate inmate soon discovered that his missing pubic hair was slowly returning. While he welcomed the return of hair to that part of his body, hoping it would help to make his embarrassing genital slit just a bit less obvious. Problem was, the new hair was growing in much lighter brown, and much softer and finer than the course black mat that used to be 'down there'. And, instead of coming back in the previous masculine 'diamond' pattern, it was now just a small, flat-topped triangle of sparse, fine hair, much like a maturing young girl might develop. Just as familiarity and the daily sessions with the physiatrist were making life with his new sex organs seem somewhat tolerable, that changed part of his body began to make itself known at the strangest times. Out of necessity, Bob had quickly become conditioned to the messy wetness he often experienced when urinating, even while seated. When he complained about this the first few days after the change, he was told it was probably normal and typical of his new anatomy. He was soon given an impromptu anatomy lesson; complete with detailed photographs of natal females and even possible changes he might eventually expect if he continued to mature in his apparent new gender. In addition, two of the clinics female nurses, who had already developed a very good rapport with Bob and wanted to help him cope, privately offered their own personal experiences growing up female. After that, Bob soon became quite pragmatic about his unique situation, and even proved to be a quick learner. But he still wasn't prepared for the next surprise. At first, it was just a sort of 'gooey' feeling "down there" (as Bob now usually described his genital area) at times. He still always wore his relatively loose fitting jockey shorts, though they now tended to fit quite differently around his 'modified' groin area. Now, at the end of the day sometimes, Bob noticed that his underwear had become wet and sticky from whatever the stuff was that 'leaked' from his new genitalia. It wasn't urine he explained to the doctors with considerable embarrassment, and it sure didn't even come out of just the urethra either, but more like from all around the sensitive area of his genital opening. The strange sensation that accompanied it was not all bad either. After a few months of experiencing no sexual urges at all, the new tingly warmth and wetness actually felt rather pleasurable. He was glad to be able to masturbate again, his only form of sexual pleasure, but it was hard to get used to having to sit in wet underwear so much of the time. The whole business itched sometimes too, in a place that wasn't possible to scratch when others were around. Only a shower could provide relief. The physicians noticed the changes in Bob's physiology too. They understood were likely the result of hormonal changes. Bob was apparently indeed going through puberty again. This time as a different gender. The early beginnings of breast development, vaginal discharge... All were typical indications of the start of puberty in the adolescent female. If females had not become such rare creatures, Bob might have recognized some of the symptoms himself. As it was, only medical practitioners and the few fortunate married males and, of course women, had any experience with what he was going through. Perhaps it was time to inform the poor Bob he was truly about to 'become a woman'. The news was not taken well. Even with all the changes, Bob still considered himself to be male, if a male with a 'difference'. On the other hand, it was difficult to deny your body's 'femininity' when you were told you would very likely soon experience menstruation. Bob didn't actually experience his first menses for another eight months after his indoctrination to womanhood in the form of very personal classes in the intricacies of female biology and hygiene. By that time, Bob's budding breasts had become impossible to conceal, even under the loose fitting prison coverall he still insisted on wearing at all times. Only the soreness caused by pert, junior-high breasts and sensitive nipples rubbing against his coarse T-shirts made him reluctantly agree to wear a very plain cotton sports bra under his clothes. He continued to wear men's jockey shorts, although he discovered it was difficult to attach feminine hygiene products to baggy men's underwear. One of the nurses he befriended finally talked him into girl's un-adorned cotton briefs but only after he embarrassed himself by staining his coveralls when a sanitary pad couldn't be held snug enough to his body. His menses were not at all regular and any bloody discharge that occurred was minimal and thin, more like that of an adolescent, but it was still a menstrual period and no 'man' had red stuff running out of his crotch like that. Like it or not, Bob's body was now undeniably developing all the secondary sexual characteristics of a female. Although Bob still tried to maintain a semblance of his masculinity, it was impossible to ignore the fact that he was now getting smaller and curvier every day. His face, while still completely recognizable, had become finer and his previously masculine jaw line had become much less pronounced. His neck became thinner and looked as if it was longer. His chest was already much different than before and continued to change. Bob must have already lost two or three inches in height, mostly from his narrowing waist and upper torso, but his hips were likely at least as large as ever. As his body changed and slowly became smaller, his voice began to change too, acquiring a slightly higher pitch and a more delicate timbre. Sometimes, while preparing for his shower, Bob just stood naked in front of the full-length mirror in his bathroom and stared at his new shape for long periods. That didn't go unnoticed by the security cameras either. The researchers and psychologists studied what was happening to Bob with great interest. Although it was obvious he wasn't always happy with what had happened and was happening to his body, Bob now seemed to be coping fairly well, sometimes even joking with the doctors about his situation. His initial depression about what had occurred didn't appear to be getting worse, in fact, it was quite possible that problem was beginning to go away. This improvement in Bob's mood was not expected. Doctors finally decided that the new hormones secreted by Bob's changed body were beginning to induce a very noticeable sensation of well being. Bob first commented about such feelings around the fifth week. He told the psychologists about it, adding that he was beginning to accept what had happened and even considered maybe it might not be so bad after all. That statement marked a big change in Bob's attitude, which before that change, was either a constant complaint about the loss of his penis (or 'dick' as he called it then) or to gripe about some other issue caused by the on-going changes that were occurring. From then on, Bob's sessions with the physicians were often question and answer sessions, with Bob asking detailed questions about female physiology and other such matters. It was as if Bob had accepted his new gender and decided to learn to live with it. All Bob's many questions were answered in detail, and the physicians often responded by providing medical textbooks that answered in a professional manner any question about the female body that was known to modern medical science. Bob read it all, sometimes having additional, but always reasonable, questions and reactions. Bob proved to be very intelligent and soon became very helpful in describing the changes and sensations he was undergoing using medical terminology and expressions he had recently read about in those textbooks. It was rapidly becoming obvious that Bob had become as interested as the researchers in the project that had cost him his manhood. Bob's new acceptance of what had happened to him caused the psychologists to reconsider the acceptability of the results. Physical gender modification had never really been considered as a serious solution to the world's problem, do to the obvious mental anguish virtually everyone suspected it would cause. If it could be determined that Bob wasn't a fluke, perhaps it was possible that a simple injection could perform the double duty of eliminating one frustrated male and at the same time, add another fertile female to the population. Of course, Bob was still not quite ready to be considered a female. He obviously had all the physical attributes; everyone could see that, even hidden under the baggy prison garb. But Bob still preferred to consider himself a man, a man with the body of an adolescent woman perhaps, but a man. Bob only adopted women's things when or if they proved necessary or convenient to solve a specific problem, like the sports bra or cotton panties. He only wore them to solve a problem, not because he wanted to wear them. It was sometimes difficult to tell what Bob was thinking. He could be amazingly open and coldly technical while describing a new sensation he was experiencing or a new physical development but when it came to his current sexual interests or orientation, Bob remained shy and secretive. It was decided that a concerted effort would be undertaken to convince Bob to acknowledge his obvious new gender and accept a legal change of status. In all previous discussion, that issue was never brought up. Surely Bob must have considered the long-term consequences of what happened, but he never brought it up, except perhaps as part of a quip or joke. Would Bob consider a legal change of status? Would he be willing to live as a woman? There was also the issue of the almost three years remaining on Bob's prison sentence. Nothing was ever said about Bob re-entering the general prison population. In fact, hardly anyone even considered Bob to be an inmate anymore. Bob's prison sentence, like that of so many other young men, was for rape of an adult woman. It had been Bob's one and only brush with the law. It was obvious that Bob was no longer physically capable of a crime like that; in fact, as the hormones continued to work their magic, Bob himself (herself) was becoming more and more vulnerable to such a crime. It was perhaps, ironic in a way. It was decided to discuss the possibility of a pardon for Bob, due to the unusual situation he was in and the indescribable inconvenience he had already experienced. Surely no one would consider Bob a threat to anyone, male of female. The prisons were overcrowded enough as it was. The Governor was advised of the problem and immediately signed Bob's pardon papers on the condition that Bob would continue working with the project, for a respectable salary, and also agree to a legal change of his (her) gender. At an informal gathering of all the researchers and doctors, Bob was presented with the proposal, including the Governors conditions for pardon. Bob reviewed the documentation that lay before him and rested his hand on his brow. "Can I have some time to think about this?" Bob asked. "Of course you can, Bob." The project leader responded. "But consider all the options. This is the obvious thing to do." "Obvious?" Bob countered. "Why is it so obvious that I should give up and live like a woman, just because I don't have a penis anymore?" "But you're doing so well." The project leader said. "What choice do you really have? And the pardon... Isn't the reduction of your sentence the reason you signed up for this in the first place?" "Can't you see what you're asking me to do?" Bob almost shouted. "It is the obvious choice." The chief physician broke in. "But to give up... To just sign away my manhood..." Bob was in tears again. "Take some time to think about it." The project leader said softly, putting his hand on Bob's narrowing shoulders. "There's no need to rush on this." He patted Bob on the back. "Look at me." Bob sobbed. "I even cry like a woman." "It's nothing to be ashamed of." The physician comforted. "It's a natural reaction, considering the hormones your gonads are secreting now, it's completely normal." "You're telling me I really have no choice, aren't you, doc." Bob asked, looking the man straight in the eye." "Take your time, Bob." The physician advised. "There really is no need to rush. You might even want to talk this over with some of the therapists, or your friends perhaps." It had become well known that Bob often relied on the advice of some of the female nurses on how to deal with 'female issues' and other things of a personal nature. They had succeeded in convincing him to wear women's underwear instead of his old Jockey shorts. "Okay. I'll think about it." Bob decided. "I'll let you know in a few days." "Excellent." The project leader said. "Until then, its business as usual, I suppose." The next day, a session with the therapist did little to help Bob decide what to do. The psychologist tended to ask more questions than he answered, and Bob came out of the session with mixed feelings. It was plain that he was probably never going to look male again. If anything, it was coming apparent that he would continue down the road to femininity. He was probably already far past the point of no return. Bob imagined what it would be like if he were put back in the general population at the prison. His developing figure was evident, even with the baggy coverall, and it would be impossible to hide the fact that he possessed a vagina. That little difference would go over real big in there. Although he had long ago begun to wonder what sex with a 'normal' man might be like, he never imagined it happening in a prison situation. Bob doubted that he could or would be put back in prison, no matter what he decided. At least not with the men. But where then? Could he be placed in a women's prison, even if he was still legally a male? Maybe he should ask about that. A year ago, even a short visit to a women's prison would have been considered a dream come true. Of course, it was a little different now. The idea still held a certain prurient interest for Bob, but there was something about having a vagina that made all that a little less interesting. Still... Nurse Jane Miller knocking on the door of his quarters interrupted his thoughts. Bob walked over to the door and welcomed her in. Just a few years older than Bob, Jane had become his confidant and probably his most trusted friend. She seemed to appreciate more than all the others, the strange quandary he was in. Bob found could talk to Jane with less embarrassment than the doctors, who were all male. Bob sometimes found it difficult to ask them questions about the more intimate female issues. He could always trust Jane to understand. "Have you come to any conclusions yet, Bob?" Jane asked with her usual cheery good nature. "I've been thinking it over." Bob admitted. "But I haven't decided." "I really think you'd love living as a woman." Jane went on. "It has all kinds of advantages over being male." "Oh? Please tell me when you were ever male?" Bob asked, grinning. "Hon, I don't need to have a penis to realize I don't need one." Jane answered, playfully pinching Bob's left nipple lightly. She knew very well that Bob's breasts were tender since he had recently asked her questions about breast and nipple sensitivity and she had also been the one to explain that was one reason women wore bras. "Maybe if you ever had a penis of your own, you wouldn't say that." Bob countered, returning the pinch, but a bit harder. It was the second time he ever touched a woman intimately in any way; the first time resulted in a prison sentence. "Honey, all you need is a little time actually living as a woman on the outside." Jane continued. "Get out of that baggy outfit and maybe grow your hair out a little." "I'm in prison, remember." Bob said. "Tell you what." Jane offered. "I'll see if I can get you out of here for a day and we'll go shopping... Get you some new clothes... Maybe get your hair done, too. I think you should at least get to sample what you've been offered, don't you?" "You really think they would let me do that?" Bob asked; the amazement in his voice plainly evident. "They've already offered you a full pardon, Hon." Jane considered. "And you could have walked right out of here for months, if you tried. The doors here in the clinic aren't locked, you know." "I'd have to go out in the world as a woman?" Bob said, more to himself than a question. "That's what they're asking you to do, isn't it?" Jane reasoned. "It's only fair you should get to try it before you decide. They do sort of owe you that, don't you think?" "Hmmm... I guess that's true... But I don't know if I could." "Hon, if you don't dress as a woman, then you'll really draw stares." Jane said. "I've seen you in your birthday suit." "Don't forget, I didn't look exactly like this on my birthday." Bob said, grinning. "Neither did I Honey, neither did I, but in your case, it's been an improvement if you ask me." Jane teased. "You really think you can get me out for a day." Bob asked. "If I can, will you go?" Jane countered. "Sure. What do I have to lose?" "Okay. I'll go ask right now." Jane said, getting out of her chair. Jane left and Bob went to the sofa and lie back on the pillows. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what it was like the last time he was "out in the world". That was almost three years ago. He had been incarcerated within a day of his ten minutes of 'pleasure' that resulted his prison term. He hadn't been outside the penitentiary walls since. Although living in the clinic apartments was much different than a tiny cell, it was still confinement, even with no visible locks. Bob moved his hand to his crotch and caressed the now familiar flat softness of his changed sex. It no longer felt so unusual not having a penis there. He really didn't miss it either. In fact, it might feel even weirder to have all that extra stuff dangling there now. After months being like this, he could hardly remember being able to urinate standing up and it seemed foolish when he remembered how irritated he was when he first discovered it wasn't so easy to do that anymore. Thinking about it brought a grin to his face. He moved the hand up to his chest, feeling his right breast through the coverall and bra. This felt 'normal' now too. His small breast felt good to his touch, much different than before. It wasn't really large now, for a female breast, but there was no doubt that's what it was. He was becoming a woman. He had a vagina and breasts. He was a woman. Was that really so bad? Sure, he had hated it at first, but did he still? Bob fell asleep dreaming of walking around in a place filled with people. He was awakened by a knock on his door. He opened it to find Jane standing there, grinning from ear to ear. "We've got to find you some clothes." She exclaimed. "I'm allowed to sign you out starting tomorrow and you don't have to come back till Monday." "Three days?" Bob almost shouted. "You got me three days?" "I'm responsible for your actions, Hon, so don't you do anything to get either of us in trouble." "Where can I go?" Bob asked. "Not that I care, but where will I stay? Will I come back here at night?" "You can stay with me, if you like." Jane offered. "You don't have to come back here." "But, I'm... You're... I can't do that." Bob stammered. "You're a woman!" "Take another hard look, Hon." Jane said laughing. "So are you." "Yeah... Maybe..." "We've got to get you something to wear besides that horrid prison outfit." Jane demanded. "I'm not going shopping or anywhere else with you dressed like that." "I don't have anything else." Bob countered. "That's why I'm here." Jane continued. "I'll get your sizes so I can bring something with me in the morning. It won't be much, but something to wear till we can get someplace to do some serious clothes shopping." "I don't have any money." Bob announced. "Maybe thirty dollars in my prison account. That's not enough to do much shopping, even for a guy." "You're not a guy anymore, Hon." Jane corrected. "I have money, and I'll loan you some. I trust you." "You'd do that for me?" Bob asked. "Why?" "I think you've earned it." Jane answered. "And besides, even if I don't get paid back, it would still be worth it, just to see you out of that damn coverall." "I... I don't know how to thank you." Bob stammered, tears welling up in his eyes. "You can start by getting out of that prison garb. Jane ordered. I've got a measuring tape. Let's find your sizes." Bob walked to the bedroom and Jane followed. He turned to see her behind him. She waited for him to remove the coverall. Bob looked embarrassed. "Come on, Hon." She ordered. "I've already seen what you look like. No surprises there." "But..." "Bob, I'm a nurse, remember." She wondered how Bob would feel if he knew cameras were observing him all the time he was in the apartment. Bob reluctantly pulled the coverall zipper down and slipped his arms out of the sleeves. He sat on the bed and removed his prison issue sneakers. Jane watched Bob slip the coverall down his hips and legs. She had seen Bob undressed before, on the videotapes and during physicals, but it was always in a more clinical environment. This was up close and personal. She looked in awe at the changed man's feminine shape. If she hadn't known the facts, there was no way she would have believed Bob had ever been male. That slightly tattered sports bra wasn't at all dainty, and the simple cotton underwear, while obviously tailored for a woman's shape, was anything but sexy. But, there was no denying that the body they covered was female. The bra was designed more for support and protection than shaping, but Bob had enough breast development to make it obvious that wasn't a man's body in there anymore. Even seated, the smooth flat crotch of the panties, the still slightly adolescent flare of the hips and the soft, feminine roundness of his backside was clearly evident. Bob may question if he should become a woman legally, but it would be crystal clear for anyone who could see 'him' like this. Any choice he ever had in the matter was long gone. Bob looked up and began to blush when he realized Jane was staring at his body. "Let's get this over with." Bob demanded. "I'm cold." "Stand up and step forward please." Jane ordered coldly, embarrassed at being caught staring. Bob followed the command and stood, then took one step forward. "Arms straight out to the side." She ordered. Bob stretched his thinning arms out. Jane took the tape and placed it under his bust, found the end and read the number. She wrote it on a pad she had. She then moved the tape slightly higher, were it measured the fullest part of the bust. Jane scribbled down another number. She looked at Bob. "In case you're interested, you're about a 36 or 38 and say... A cup." Jane announced. "Is that good?" Bob asked, seriously. "I don't know if it's good." Jane reasoned. "It's a little on the small side for a grown woman, but rather big for a guy." She winked. "Maybe just about right for a growing young woman though." "What size are you?" Bob asked innocently. "That's not something you ask a lady, Hon." Jane warned. "You know my size." Bob countered. "I thought we had no secrets." "I'm a 34 B if you must know." Jane announced. "No secrets." "You're very attractive, Jane." Bob offered. He wasn't just saying that either. "Well, thank you, Bob." Jane said. "But, I'm afraid if I took my clothes off, you'd see my chest isn't any way near as perky as yours is. I've had these a little longer and gravity long ago started to work its wonders." "Do they feel any different because of that?" Bob questioned. "Come on now, they're not dragging on the ground yet." Jane warned. "I'm serious; do they feel different after a while?" Jane considered the question. "If your asking do my boobs always hurt like yours probably do now, the answer is no. That 'growing' ache goes away eventually." Jane answered; realizing Bob had gone into the 'question mode' again. "So, when will they stop hurting?" Bob continued, rubbing his left breast gently. "You're writing the book on that, I'm afraid." Jane admitted. "I'd guess right now you're about the stage I was at when I was maybe thirteen. In just a while they won't hurt anymore, except maybe before periods. Or, if you bump them against something." Bob was learning about menstrual periods. He'd experienced two so far. They were very light, and they were still not regular enough to predict, but he had them. His chest only felt a little extra sore then... He wasn't really sure. Each time the period happened, he had been too concerned about wearing that damn sanitary pad, which felt more like a diaper wadded up in his still unfamiliar crotch. If you asked Bob, he'd tell you a woman's body could be very messy and surprisingly, even smelly too, in no way as 'clean' and simple as a guy's. Bob never knew a thing about that aspect of a woman's life before had become a feature of his own. Jane moved the tape to Bob's waist. She scribbled another number and moved to his hips. She carefully positioned the tape at the widest part of his widening hips. Another number was quickly scribbled on the pad. "Waist 29, hips 36." Jane declared. "How's that compare?" Bob asked. "With what?" Jane asked, teasingly. "I don't know." Bob said. "With you, I guess." "Let's get something clear, Hon." Jane admonished. "I've been like this for... let's just say, a good while now. You may have been a mature guy before, but now your body is much like that of a thirteen-year-old girl from what we can determine. It's still changing, and it's changing rapidly." "I'm guess I can see that." Bob admitted. "What I'm trying to say is... Don't compare what you look like to other women your age. You're just not there yet. But, from all indications it looks like you will be. Get used to it while you grow into it. That's what I did. That's what all girls do." "So, I look like a little girl?" Bob asked, smiling. "I didn't exactly say that." Jane corrected. "But that's sort of where you are in this second puberty you're getting the chance to experience." "Yeah, I sure am a lucky duck, aren't I?" Bob said sarcastically. "Think about it a minute." Jane said. "How many guys get a chance to experience what you already have?" "It would probably be better of it just wasn't so permanent." Bob considered. Jane thought about that. "Would it really?" She asked. "I know the problems out there. When I consider the problems guys have, I always thank God I was born female. Think about it, if this isn't permanent you'll eventually be back where you were when you ended up in prison. Was that really so great? This way, you might get a chance at a better life." "Is it really better?" Bob asked. "That's what you get to decide this weekend." Jane concluded. She moved the tape to Bob's inseam and took another measurement. Bob thought she intentionally pressed against the crotch of his underwear. Her light touches made him feel very tingly 'down there'. Jane straightened up and looked at Bob. "I guess I have enough information to get you something cute to wear tomorrow." She said. "Cute?" Bob snorted. "I'm going to wear something 'cute'." "If you want to go out shopping with me you will." Jane threatened. "Cute? I guess I can handle cute." Bob corrected, grinning. Jane walked over to the door to leave. Bob followed; suddenly realizing he was standing at the door in only his underwear. Jane looked at him and smiled. "I'll be here at around ten. Wear clean underwear." "I always do." Bob answered, not realizing she was teasing. "And don't forget to shave your legs and underarms." "Huh?" Compared to the way he was before, Bob's body hair was now very fine. It was coming back, but much lighter than it was. He only had a few light hairs in his pits and that was the same fine straight hair as his pubic area. "If you're going to experience living as a woman this weekend, you need to start acting like one. Most all American women shave their legs and underarms. You will too, if you want to hang around with me, Hon." Jane insisted. "Okay, Mom." Bob whined. "I'm serious." Jane said. "You will be trying on things all day and I don't want to be seen with a gorilla." "If you think I look like a gorilla now, you should have seen me before." "I sort of wish I could have." Jane said provocatively, winking at him. "I wish you could have too." Bob said truthfully. "Tomorrow, Ten AM. I'll have clothes for you to wear." Jane said abruptly, walking out the door. "I'll be here." Bob went back to the sofa and sat down. He looked at the light down on his legs. They didn't seem very hairy to him. He raised his arm, feeling the sparse light hair that had only recently began to re-grow there. Shave, huh? It's been a while since he touched a razor. And, to these areas of his body, never. Bob decided to see if he could find the electric razor he used to use. It was somewhere in his clothes dresser, with the rest of the stuff they brought over from his cell. He found it in the drawer with his Jockey shorts. Before he took the razor, he picked up a pair of his old underwear and held them up. Bob studied the little angled slit opening in the front, designed to allow access to the penis when urinating. Actually, when he wore these, Bob usually just pulled waistband down for access, since it was easier. That waistband now looked so wide and coarse, even compared to the very plain women's underpants he now wore. He hadn't worn them or even looked at them for a few months, and he forgot just how baggy they actually were. Bob looked down at the underpants he was wearing. Jane brought those for him too, and compared the Jockeys; they apparently had some Lycra or something like that, added to the cotton fabric to make them feel slightly stretchy. Instead of loose, like men's underwear, the women's panties looked and fit snugly. It felt slightly weird putting them the first time, but it was normal now. Bob put the under shorts back in the drawer and grabbed the razor. He walked into the bathroom and plugged it in. He put his left leg up on the sink and began to shave the barely visible down from his legs. The difference in feel surprised him. His legs were so smooth with the fine hair gone. Bob had noticed his skin getting softer and more sensitive, but as he ran his hand along his upper thigh, he just closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation a moment. When Bob finally finished his legs, he turned the razor on his pits. Looking in the mirror, he was pleased at how much better he looked without hair there. He raised his arms over his head. Doing that made his small boobs seem a little bigger. When Bob started wearing the sports bra, it was only because of Jane's suggestion as a way to prevent the painful chafing of his growing nipples. The bra did that, and also served to make his developing chest a bit less obvious. Bob's breasts seemed to bounce around as he walked and the bra prevented that somewhat. But the snug garment also pressed his small developing bosom flat to his body. The sports bra had no hooks in back or front; it had to be pulled over the head to put it on. The shoulder straps were wide too. Bob pulled the bra over his head and looked down his growing breasts. They actually seemed larger than even the last time he checked them out. He held one in his hand. It felt good just to touch the soft tissue. When they started to develop, Bob's changing breasts felt more like a foreign swelling or a growth, but he was familiar with them being there now. They still ached a bit, but not like at first. It was now becoming sort of interesting having them. Bob put his arms straight out again and jiggled his chest. He liked watching his body when he did that, he wasn't sure why, but he did. Bob went to the tub and began drawing water. Although he usually took a shower, he had recently discovered it felt very good to soak in the warm water. He wasn't sure why, maybe because the spray just seemed sharp to his more sensitive skin, and the water was so warm. After a relaxing soak, Bob crawled out of the tub and grabbed a towel and dried off. It was now after eight so Bob decided to go to bed. Tomorrow promised be the most interesting in many years. Stand by for part II