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This story may not be re-posted without the permission of the author. REFORMATION By Lana B. PROLOGUE Commander George Hathaway entered the basement room and closed the door behind him. He walked to the head of the long table and sat down. He placed the leather file on the table. The meeting wasn't scheduled to start for another hour but Hathaway arrived early to review the file. He'd had too many interruptions while he worked in his office upstairs and he knew that he wouldn't be disturbed here. He'd soon be advancing a novel solution to a troublesome problem and he wanted to be prepared. He needed the privacy which this room afforded him. Hathaway leaned back in the chair and reflected on the special assignment he'd been given. Six months ago the Director of the CIA, Don Fielder, had summoned him to his office to discuss the establishment of the Covert Strategic Council (CSC). Director Fielder envisioned the CSC as a clandestine adjunct and advisory board to the Executive Staff of the CIA. Its purpose would be to address the agency's critical failures and assess the underlying reasons. And, most significantly, to formulate corrective action. Hathaway was a senior operational supervisor in the CIA's complicated command structure and he'd amassed a well-deserved reputation for efficiency and effectiveness over his 22-year tenure with the agency. He was a man who'd achieved results in all the tasks and projects his superiors had assigned him and now Director Fielder wanted Hathaway to assume command of the CSC. Fielder had said, "I'd like you to head-up the CSC George. We've got some difficult and thorny operational problems and I believe that you're the man who can fix them. What do you say?" George had replied, "I'm honored sir. Of course I'll do it." "Good. You'll have substantial autonomy. And you can pick your own team. You'll receive your assignments from the Executive Staff but you'll report directly to me. By the way your new title is Commander. Congratulations George," Fielder had said. Hathaway's first assignment was to come up with a plan to improve the information gathering techniques of the agency's field operatives in order to enhance the quality of the intelligence they collected. This was the year 2021 and it was recognized by the agency's hierarchy that the old-school methods of acquiring intelligence were seriously outdated in the context of the ever-changing world scene. Over the past five years the CIA had failed to acquire critical intelligence on several occasions which had led to some serious setbacks in a number of foreign policy initiatives. Things were broke and needed fixing. The intelligence community had recognized for decades that while information gathered by technological means such as the use of spy satellites played an important role in acquiring critical intelligence it was no substitute for the operative in the field. But in recent years the quality of the information acquired by field operatives left much to be desired. The information they'd obtained was often superficial and inaccurate. And many times critical information had not been collected at all. Hathaway had immediately put together a small team of three trusted associates to help him tackle the task at hand. And he'd consulted with a number of experts in the area of operational field intelligence gathering. With their help he formulated a draft plan which he'd submitted to Director Fielder last week. And this morning he'd gotten the green light to proceed. Hathaway looked at the wall clock and saw that it was 1:45pm. "Shit," he exclaimed. He'd wasted 45 minutes ruminating. The meeting was scheduled to start in 15 minutes and he hadn't even looked at the file. He opened it and began to read. *** Howie Filson was the first one to arrive for the meeting. Filson had been one of the agency's top field operatives until he sustained a compound fracture of his right leg during a mission in Afghanistan five years ago. The mission was a success but Filson had been relegated to walking with a cane. He'd consequently been reassigned to an internal management position. "Hi Howie. How've you been?" "Fine. And you Commander?" "Can't complain. No one listens anyway." Two minutes later Archie Rosen entered the room. Rosen too had been one of the CIA's best field operatives but he was now 65 years old. Three years ago the agency had reassigned him to an internal administrative position in conformance with its policy of mandatory retirement from the field at age 62. "Hi Archie. Nice to see you." "You too Commander." A minute later Frankie Dominick joined them. At age 32 Dominick was considered one of the agency's top three field agents. Hathaway had to do some considerable arm-twisting to pry him loose from his superiors in the field. "Hi Frankie. Have a seat." "Sure thing Commander." A few minutes later Dr. Henry Kruger made his entrance. Before Hathaway tapped him for a seat on the CSC Kruger had worked in the CIA's Science Division. He was one of only three physicians in the country with doctorates in biology and genetics. "Good afternoon gentlemen," he announced in his slight German accent as he walked to the table and took a seat. Hathaway arose and he walked to the door and closed it. He returned to his seat at the head of the table. "We might as well get started gentlemen. As you know our mission is to improve the agency's information gathering techniques. We need to refine the way we've been going about collecting intelligence. In recent years we've failed to collect critical information. And some of the intelligence we've managed to gather turned out to be imprecise or inaccurate. I've come to the conclusion that we need to place more women in the field." "What's the relevancy of the field operative's gender Commander?" Dominick asked. "First of all, a woman is less likely to arouse suspicion. The target most likely won't suspect her of being a spy. Secondly, a woman operative has a better opportunity to gather intelligence from the wife, girlfriend or consort of the target. She can get closer to them than a man can. In a beauty parlor or shopping mall perhaps. That sort of thing. And last but not least, a woman can conceivably get close to the target himself because she's the opposite sex. You know, the whole 'use sex as a weapon' scenario." "But Commander, the agency's tried to recruit women as field operatives with dismal results," Rosen noted. He added, "Women are just not willing to place themselves at risk. The few we've recruited were abject failures. They decompensated when placed in perilous situations. Women simply don't handle danger as well as men." "I know Archie. That's where Dr. Kruger comes in." All eyes turned to Kruger. He smiled at being placed in the spotlight. "I don't understand Commander. Kruger works in the Science Division. How can he help us recruit female field operatives?" Filson asked as his associates' attention shifted to him. "Well Howie, simply put Dr. Kruger has developed a serum that can convert a man into a woman." They all had looks of disbelief and astonishment on their faces. Hathaway announced, "I'll turn the floor over to Dr. Kruger now. Would you like to explain how this serum works Doctor?" "It would be my pleasure Commander."Genetically speaking men and women are distinguished by their sex chromosomes. A male has an X chromosome and a Y chromosome while a female has two X chromosomes. I've devised a compound that attaches itself to the Y chromosome in a male and converts it into a second X chromosome. And as the Y chromosome progressively alters to an X chromosome the subject's gender progressively changes from male to female. In essence the subject becomes the woman he would have been if he'd been born female." Dr. Kruger eagerly awaited his associates' reactions. "Incredible. And just what is this serum of yours made of Doctor?" Rosen asked. "Well, the serum is to a large extent comprised of harvested and refined genetic material from the umbilical cords of new-born girls. There are various related components as well including hormones and other biological and chemical compounds." "And this serum actually works? You've tried it on a human subject?" Filson asked. "Well, not exactly. The serum's worked on laboratory animals. Guinea pigs and mice. I'm ready to expand the trials to human beings." Dominick asked, "What field operative would be willing to be a human guinea pig in this experiment? I don't see any of our male operatives volunteering for this." Hathaway broke in. "We took an interesting survey of 50 of our field operatives last month. We asked them to assume that we had a serum that could change a man into a woman. And then we asked them if they'd be willing to take the serum in order to carry out an important undercover mission." "And how did they respond?" Dominick asked. "To a man they all said no." "I'm not surprised Commander." "But we posed an interesting follow-up question. We asked them if they'd be willing to take the serum if there were an antidote. One that would change them back into a man after the mission was accomplished. And do you know what? Eleven respondents answered they'd be willing to take the serum under those circumstances." "But is there an antidote Commander?" Rosen asked. "No. Not yet. The agency won't authorize funding to research development of an antidote until we can prove that the serum works on a human subject. Development of the serum blew a big hole in the agency's budget and researching an antidote would be just as costly. We first must establish that the serum works on a human." "Okay Commander. Just where do we find this human guinea pig?" Filson inquired. It was the question they'd all wanted to ask. "I'm glad you asked that question. I have a few ideas I'd like to bounce around gentlemen." Hathaway smiled and they all waited for him to continue. PART ONE - CORNERED Paul Jameson stood in line and waited. He eventually reached the machine and inserted his time card into it. "Finally!" Paul thought as he pulled the card out and placed it into the tray on the table. Paul was more than a little happy that the weekend had arrived. He'd put in a long week at McPhael's Machine Company building the large wooden boxes in which the company shipped its heavy machine parts. He knew he wasn't at the same level as a master carpenter but he was nonetheless proud of the craftsmanship he employed as he built the wooden crates. Paul reached the parking lot and spotted his car. He walked to it and unlocked the door. "Hey Paul!" He turned to his left and saw his friend and co-worker Lenny Baumgarten approach. Another man walked behind Lenny. "Where you off to Paul?" Lenny asked. "I'm going to McShane's for a few beers Lenny. Want to come along?" "Sure. But first I'd like you to meet a friend. This is Lew Dalton. He just started working here this week. I've been showing him the ropes on the receiving dock." Lew stepped up and he and Paul shook hands. All three men entered the car. Twenty minutes later Paul pulled his car into the empty space in the parking lot of McShane's, a quaint pub in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn. The three men exited the car and entered the pub. Over the next hour they went through three pitchers of beer as they talked about work, sports and girls. "Hey, I got an idea," Lenny announced. "Let's pick up a bottle of Wild Turkey and head over to my place. We can watch the Yankees game on my new 52" television. What do you say?" Paul and Lew assented and they made their way to the parking lot. Paul felt a bit light-headed from the beer and knew that he probably shouldn't drive but as he saw it there was no alternative. Lenny and Lew had consumed just as much beer as he had. Paul carefully drove for a few blocks and parked across the street from Kovac's Liquors. Lew said, "This is on me boys," and he left the car and walked toward the liquor store. Paul and Lenny sat in the car and discussed tonight's upcoming baseball game when they heard two sharp popping sounds. They looked to their left and saw Lew running toward the car. He had a liquor bottle in one hand and a gun in the other. Lew jumped into the car and screamed, "Step on it Paul! Let's get the fuck out of here!" Paul swung the car out and onto the street and drove off. Lenny asked, "What the fuck happened in there Lew? What are you doing with a gun?" "Well, all I wanted was a bottle of booze. So I pulled my gun. I didn't even ask him to open the cash register. I just wanted the bottle, that's all." Lew stopped talking and Lenny urged him. "And?" "I turned my head away for a second and the dumb bastard reached for his shotgun under the counter. That's when I shot him. I think I may have killed him. One of the shots got him in the head." "Oh fuck," Paul said. "Why didn't I just go straight the fuck home tonight?" And that's when he heard the siren and saw the flashing red lights in his rear view mirror. Ironically it wasn't the shooting that led to Paul's arrest. It was his erratic driving from having had a few too many beers. But when the police recovered the gun from Paul's car he, Lenny and Lew were tied to the liquor store shooting. And they were all charged with murder when the store owner died two days later. *** Paul was escorted to the small conference room by a correction officer. His legal aid attorney, Andy Bottoms, was waiting for him. They shook hands. "Give me some good news Andy." "I wish I could Paul. The judge denied your bail application an hour ago." "Shit. Where do we go from here?" "Well, you have to remain in custody until the trial. They'll probably keep you right here in the Brooklyn Detention Center. And the trial won't begin for six months to a year. There's a huge backlog in the criminal calendar in Brooklyn." "Shit. I still can't believe I'm being charged with murder Andy. I told you I had no idea that asshole Dalton intended to rob that liquor store. I didn't even know he had a gun. I'd just met him two hours before the shooting. Why doesn't the district attorney believe me?" "The prosecution thinks you're lying. Your story is one they've heard countless times. No one ever knows the shooter had a gun or intended to commit a crime." "But it's true in my case." "I know that and you know that but can you prove it? Especially when Dalton claims that all three of you planned the robbery together?" "He's a lying bastard. But I still don't understand how they can charge me with murder. Dalton killed the store owner. I was in the car across the street with Lenny." "It's the felony-murder rule of law Paul. The prosecution will argue that you were the getaway driver. And under the felony-murder rule anyone involved in the commission of a felony where the victim is murdered is considered responsible for the victim's death to the same extent as the person who directly caused the death. Here they intend to charge you with aiding and abetting in the commission of a robbery, which is a felony. And since the shopkeeper was killed during the robbery you're considered responsible for his death in the eyes of the law." "I can't believe this. What are my chances at trial?" "I'll be honest with you Paul. This is a difficult charge to defend. You really can't prove you didn't know that Dalton intended to hold up that store. You can't even prove you didn't know he had a gun. It'll be your word against his. And the jury will be sympathetic toward the victim. He was married and had eight kids. Who are now fatherless." "Fuck me." "Tell me something Paul. Have you ever been convicted of a felony before?" "Yeah. Five years ago I copped a plea to selling two ounces of pot. I spent a year in jail and was paroled." "That's not good. I can't even put you on the stand now. If I do the prosecution will bring up your prior conviction which will make everything worse." Bottoms noticed the dejected look on Paul's face and said, "Maybe there's a silver lining here Paul. Alex Case, the prosecuting assistant district attorney, asked me to drop by his office at 3:00 this afternoon. Maybe he wants to cut a deal?" *** The next day Andy Bottoms returned to the Brooklyn Detention Center to confer with Paul. He advised, "I received an interesting proposition from Alex Case yesterday Paul." "Yeah? What?" "He said he'd drop the charges if you agreed to participate in a pilot medical program sanctioned by the State Disease Control Board." "Yeah?" Paul felt excited. He saw a light at the end of his dark tunnel. "What kind of medical program Andy?" "Case told me the Board's testing drugs for treatment of Hodgkin's disease. If you agree to the proposition then they'd try one of these drugs on you." "But I don't have Hodgkin's disease Andy. What's the point?" "I brought that up too Paul. Alex Case claimed the Board's only testing for adverse side-effects at this juncture. He said that whether or not you had the disease was irrelevant." "What sort of adverse side-effects are we talking about here Andy?" "I asked that too. Case said diarrhea, indigestion, joint pain, blurred vision and loss of appetite. He claimed the worst case scenario would be the development of a few bodily changes, arthritis and seizures. But he also said there might not be any side-effects at all." "Tell me something Andy. What am I looking at if I'm convicted?" "Probably life imprisonment with no chance of parole." "You're my lawyer. What do you think?" "You really need to answer that question yourself Paul." "Okay. Let me rephrase the question. What would you do if you were in my shoes?" Bottoms thought for a moment. "I'd probably accept Case's proposition. Oh. And I forgot to tell you that Lenny Baumgarten was given the same offer two days ago and he accepted it yesterday. And there's something else too. If you agree to participate the State will pay you $25,000." "Hmm. How long do I have to make a decision?" "Case said he'll keep the offer on the table for 24 hours." *** Paul thought about the proposition all night long as he rested in his cell bunk. He hardly slept at all. And he finally decided that he would agree to it. He simply wasn't willing to risk spending the rest of his life behind bars. Especially for a crime he didn't commit. So the next morning he contacted his lawyer by telephone and communicated his decision. Bottoms asked, "Are you sure you want to do this Paul?" "Yeah. I'm sure." As Paul placed the receiver on the cradle he thought, "Maybe I'll only get a touch of diarrhea. Or maybe nothing at all." *** Two days later Andy Bottoms visited Paul. He was accompanied by a plain-clothes correction officer. Bottoms opened his briefcase and retrieved several forms which he handed to Paul. "They're just medical authorizations and consent forms Paul. They basically say what we've previously discussed. You'll need to sign them." Paul signed all the paperwork. "Okay Paul. That's it. Officer Hardy will now take you to the Board's local medical facility about a mile from here. I've been told you can expect to spend up to a week there and then you'll be discharged. Best of luck Paul," and Bottoms extended his right hand. Paul reached out and grasped his attorney's hand. He shook it hard. "Thanks for everything Andy." *** A half-hour later Officer Hardy pulled the van into a small parking lot adjacent to a one-story brick building. A white plaque over the building's entrance announced they'd arrived at the Westbrook Medical Clinic. As Paul gazed at the building from the van's passenger seat he wondered what he'd gotten himself into. His heart raced and he tried to calm himself down by rationalizing. "It can't be any worse than spending the rest of my life in jail." They entered the building and walked up to the reception desk. Officer Hardy told the pretty young receptionist, "This here is Paul Jameson. I believe you're expecting him." "Yes officer. Please deposit the patient in Room 125 down that corridor to the right," and she pointed her finger to show them the way. Officer Hardy brought Paul to Room 125 and ushered him inside. "Raise your hands Jameson." Paul did as he was told and Hardy unlocked the handcuffs. "Have a nice life Jameson" and he exited the room. Paul heard the soft thump as Hardy engaged the exterior deadbolt locking him in. *** Paul scanned the modest-sized room and saw the large hospital bed with the chrome rails on each side. There was a chair in the corner and a small metal table with some medical implements on it. And there was a small interior bathroom with a shower stall. Paul tried the door and verified it was locked. He sat down on the chair and had almost nodded off when he heard the sliding deadbolt. The door opened and a tall man wearing a white medical coat entered. "Hello Mr. Jameson. I'm Dr. Parker. I know you've just arrived but if you don't mind I'd like to get started." "Okay Doc. What do you want me to do?" "Please disrobe. And put this medical gown on." Dr. Parker handed Paul the plastic bag. "I'll be back in ten minutes." He left the room and locked the door behind him. Paul undressed and he removed the medical gown from the plastic bag and put it on. He sat in the chair and awaited the doctor's return. Five minutes later Dr. Parker returned. He pushed a wheeled metal pole- stand with one hand and carried a black leather bag in his other hand. He looked at Paul. "Would you please get into the bed?" Paul lowered the rail and climbed onto the bed. Dr. Parker walked to its side and raised the rail. He reached into his black bag and removed the plastic pouch which he secured to the metal stand. The doctor then attached a thin plastic tube to the bottom of the pouch and inserted the needled end of the tube into Paul's forearm. Paul felt a slight pinch as the doctor worked on his arm. He noticed the white adhesive tape which secured the tube firmly in place. Paul watched as the doctor adjusted a valve on the pouch and saw the translucent fluid slowly flow into the clear plastic tube. He observed the fluid's trail as it made its way down the tube and just before it reached his arm he flinched in anticipation. But physically he felt nothing. Dr. Parker said, "Please don't touch the apparatus." He then left the room and locked the door behind him. Paul got bored watching the plastic tube. He yawned and closed his eyes. A minute later he was sound asleep. *** Paul awoke. He looked to his side and saw that the metal stand was gone. He glanced at his forearm and saw the small Band-Aid. He heard the door open and looked up to see Dr. Parker enter the room. "Hello Mr. Jameson. You'll be pleased to know that everything worked out just fine. The only side-effect thus far has been a little fatigue. You've been asleep for two days Mr. Jameson." "Two days?" "That's right. You're free to go now." "I am?" "Yes sir." *** Paul showered and dressed in the clothes he'd arrived in. He walked to the door and found it unlocked. He opened it and made his way to the reception desk where he saw the same pretty young attendant who was there when he'd arrived at the clinic. "Hello Mr. Jameson. I hope you've enjoyed your stay here. I have something for you," and she handed him the envelope. Paul opened it and saw the check for $25,000. Paul left the building with a smile on his face. As he walked down the Brooklyn sidewalk putting some distance between himself and the clinic he happily exclaimed, "Piece of cake!" PART TWO - ONSET AND ONWARD Paul walked for a half-hour and saw the Ramada Inn. He got a room there. He then walked to the local branch of his bank a few blocks away and deposited the $25,000 check. Considering his prior life's savings of $8,000 he now had a grand total of $33,000 to his name. Paul then walked to the Honda dealer across the street and bought a 2- year old Civic with 18,000 miles on it for $15,000. He'd received notice while incarcerated that his Pontiac had been repossessed for non-payment of the car loan and he needed wheels. Paul left a check for $500 with the car salesman and agreed to return with a cashier's check for the balance tomorrow. He returned to the motel room. For the rest of his day he watched television. He felt fatigued and turned in early. The next day Paul returned to the bank and procured the cashier's check. He also withdrew the balance of his money in cash. He returned to the Honda dealer where he completed all the paperwork and drove away in his Civic an hour later. Paul drove to the storage facility to pick up his clothes and belongings. He'd received word while incarcerated that his apartment had been rented to someone else and his possessions placed in storage. He paid the storage fee and squeezed all seven boxes into his car. Paul stopped at a gas station and filled the car's tank. He got onto the Belt Parkway and headed west. He made his way to the New York Thruway and drove north. He didn't know where he was going. He had no idea where he'd end up. All he knew was that it was time to leave the City and start a new life elsewhere. *** Paul drove for an hour and saw the exit for Tarrytown. Although he'd never been to Tarrytown he'd always liked the name of that city. He took the exit. He drove for two miles and saw the small motel. He slowed down and looked the sign on the roof that bore the name Scottie's Inn. He pulled into the lot and parked. Paul left his car and entered the inn. He immediately noticed the sedate ambience. It was very country-like. It felt cozy. He walked up to the registration desk and smiled at the pretty young girl behind it. He observed the small badge on her dress above her right breast which announced that her name was Doris. "I'd like a room for the night Doris." "Certainly sir. Single or double bed?" "Single will be fine Doris." *** Paul entered the motel room and placed the cardboard box on the floor. He took a shower and he retrieved some fresh clothes from the box and dressed. He then left the room and walked to the inn's restaurant in the main building. He took a seat at a small table and ordered a large steak and baked potato which he washed down with three beers. He managed to quell his hunger. Paul picked up a copy of the Tarrytown Press at the inn's stationery shop and returned to his room. He turned to the classified section and browsed the listings for apartments and job openings. *** Paul liked Scottie's Inn and stayed there for a few more days. On his second day there he opened a checking account at the Tarrytown Savings and Loan. He deposited all of his cash into the account except for $300 which he retained for his everyday expenses. On the third day he found a nice garden apartment about two miles from the inn and rented it. He gave the rental agent a check for $2,500 to cover the security deposit and two months' rent in advance. The agent told him the apartment would be painted tomorrow and that he could move into it the next day. And on the fourth day Paul took a job interview at Michael's Medical Supply, a manufacturing concern in the middle of town that made medical and laboratory implements and supplies like stethoscopes, hypodermic needles, and blood and urine testing devices. Business was good and the supply house was looking to put on 10 new employees to keep up with its orders. The supervisor who interviewed Paul took an instant liking to him and hired him on the spot. Paul was told to report to his new job in the shipping and receiving department next Monday. As Paul rested on his bed in the inn that night he smiled. He was rebuilding his life and things were proceeding nicely. "Life is good," he whispered just before sleep overtook him. A month later... It was Friday night and Paul had just punched his attendance card in the machine and placed it into the wall rack slot that bore his name. He'd worked hard this week and was glad the weekend had finally arrived. He was intercepted by Jerry Dawkins, a co-worker, as he walked to the parking lot. "Hey Paul. A few of us are meeting at The Hidden Pony for a few beers at 8:00 tonight. Want to join us?" "Sure Jerry. Thanks." "See you later Paul." As Paul drove to his apartment he smiled. He'd talked at length to some of his co-workers over the past month but this was the first time any of them had asked him to hang out. He felt he'd reached the point where he should be making some friends. Paul arrived at his apartment and he shed his clothes and stepped into the shower. The warm water felt invigorating as he cleansed himself. He stepped out the tub and toweled himself dry. He was about to toss the towel into the hamper when he noticed that it was covered in hair. "What the fuck?" He turned around and looked down at the tub and saw all the hair caught in the drain. He then looked down at himself and observed that he had much less hair on his body than he was accustomed to seeing. Paul sat down on the toilet lid and closely scrutinized his left arm. He pulled at some hair with his right thumb and forefinger and watched as it gently lifted off his arm. He could actually feel the roots leave his forearm. He gazed in bewilderment at the bare patch of skin. "What the fuck?" he repeated. He shook his head and he got up and walked to the bedroom. He looked at his wristwatch on the dresser and saw that it was 7:45. "I don't have time for this," and he proceeded to dress. *** Paul arrived at The Hidden Pony at 8:15 and found Jerry Dawkins sitting at a table with two other co-workers from the medical supply house. "Hey Paul. Glad you could make it you know Curtis Block and Gary David, right?" "Sure. Hi guys," and Paul sat down at the table. He ordered a beer and chatted with his new friends for the next half hour. A group of four girls settled at the pool table about fifteen feet away and began to play. Paul, Curtis, Jerry and Gary all watched them. Paul paid particular attention to the thin girl with the long dark blond hair. She was about 5'7" tall and wore tight jeans and a halter top. And she was very attractive. Paul instinctively arose and walked to the railing a few feet from the pool table. He watched the girls play as he drank his beer. The blonde banked in a corner shot and Paul said, "Very nice shot." She looked over at Paul. "Thanks." She smiled and he smiled back. The game ended five minutes later and Paul stepped over to the blonde. "Can I buy you a drink?" She looked up and into his eyes and smiled. "Sure." "My name's Paul Jameson." "I'm Laura Tunney." They kept looking into each other's eyes until Paul finally said, "Why don't we get a table Laura?" "Okay Paul." A month later... Things were going very well for Paul. He liked his apartment and he liked his job. And he particularly liked Laura. They'd steadily dated for the past month and last week they'd slept together for the first time. Everything was going just fine for Paul except for one thing. He continued to lose his hair and about ten days ago he'd observed that it was all gone. His skin was completely hairless except for his eyebrows and eyelashes and the hair on his head. His beard was even gone. He couldn't understand how it had happened and he considered seeing a doctor. But he felt fine otherwise and hadn't yet made an appointment. And Laura liked him hairless. She'd noticed his lack of bodily hair when they'd slept together last week and had complimented him on it. She'd said she didn't like the feel of a hairy man. "Some men look like apes. You look nice like that Paul." So he hadn't pressed it. *** Things were heating up between Paul and Laura. They slept together three or four times a week in either Paul's apartment or at Lara's place. She lived about two miles away on the ground floor of a private home which she'd rented about a year ago. When Laura attained age 21 last year she declared her independence and moved out of her parents' home. This weekend Paul found himself alone because Laura was visiting with her parents in Peekskill. He missed her already. Paul reflected that he was getting very serious about Laura and wondered whether she was the girl he'd end up with. "I think I love her," he decided. He took a shower and slipped into a pair of briefs and a T-shirt. He put on his favorite jeans but something didn't feel right. They felt a little loose around his waist. And when he looked down he saw that the ends of the pants fell a few inches below his ankles and dragged on the ground. "What the...?" He removed the jeans and tried on another pair. Same thing. He tried several others and they were all the same. Every pair was too large. Paul couldn't understand. He'd been a 36" x 30" for as long as he could remember. He'd been wearing the same size pants since he'd graduated from high school 8 years ago. Paul stripped off the jeans and walked to the bathroom. He gazed at his reflection in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. Something was wrong. He didn't look right. He looked what? Shorter? Smaller? Paul stepped onto the bathroom scale and received a shock. He weighed 150 pounds. He'd somehow lost 15 pounds. "I can't believe this." Paul returned to the mirror and studied his reflection. There was no doubt about it. He was smaller. He knew that he'd been 5'11" tall and 165 pounds since his graduation from high school. But not anymore. He put his jeans back on. He found a belt to keep them on his waist and he rolled the edges into cuffs. He then slipped into his sneakers and discovered they were too big too. He had to tie them tightly so that his heels didn't slip out when he walked. "What the hell is going on?" *** Laura returned a few days later and they picked up where they'd left off. But she observed that Paul looked different. "Something's strange Paul." "Strange?" "Yeah. You look different." "Oh, I...uh...lost some weight, that's all." "You didn't need to lose any weight." "I just wanted to shed the love handles Laura." Laura looked at him curiously. She knew Paul didn't have love handles. He was fit and trim. It was one of the things that had attracted her to him in the first place. And then Saturday night arrived and Laura knew that something was wrong. They'd planned on dinner and dancing and Laura wanted to look and feel sexy so she slipped into her favorite 3" heels. And when Paul arrived to pick her up she'd immediately seen that he was a few inches shorter than she was. "Okay Paul, I want you to tell me what's going on." "What do you mean Laura?" "What I mean is why am I taller than you?" Paul looked down and said, "Because you're wearing those high-heels." Laura immediately kicked off her heels and looked into Paul's eyes which were on the same level as hers. "I'm 5'7" tall. You're my height now. How did that happen Paul?" Paul sat on the couch and buried his head in his hands. He muttered, "I don't know Laura. All of a sudden I started...shrinking." "Okay. That settles it. You're seeing a doctor." *** Laura made the appointment and a week later Paul sat in the office of Dr. Lester Asimov, who was a board-certified internist. Paul expressed his concerns about his unexplained loss of body mass. Dr. Asimov gave him a complete physical and he took blood and urine samples. "Return in a week when the laboratory results are in Mr. Jameson. Hopefully we'll get to the bottom of this." When Paul returned a week later Dr. Asimov said, "I have good news Mr. Jameson. Everything came back within normal limits. Nothing's wrong. You're a healthy young man. Congratulations." "That can't be so Doc. Something must be wrong. Are you sure? Maybe you need to take more tests?" "You almost sound as if you want something to be wrong Mr. Jameson." "Not really Doc. I just want to find out why I'm shrinking. I'm telling you Dr. Asimov, I used to be 5'11" tall and 165 pounds. Look at me now." "Hmm. Come with me Mr. Jameson," and Paul followed the doctor into the examining room. At Dr. Asimov's request he stripped to his underwear and the doctor measured his height and weighed him. Dr. Asimov remained silent and Paul finally said, "Well?" "I don't know what your height and weight were before you came to see me Mr. Jameson. But I can definitively say that you're now 5'6" tall and 135 pounds." "Holy shit. I've lost another inch and 15 more pounds!" *** "What did the doctor say Paul?" Laura asked. "He said all the tests came back normal." "But how could that be?" "I don't know. He said if I wanted to pursue it then I'd have to check into the hospital for more extensive testing." "Maybe that's what you should do Paul." "I don't know Laura. I just don't know." *** Paul's co-workers saw the change in his stature and mass. To explain it Paul told them that he'd contracted anemia. They expressed concern but some wondered whether he had something more serious than he admitted to. Stories got around that he had hepatitis or AIDS and his co-workers began to shy away from him. No one was quite sure what he had but many believed that whatever it was may me contagious. So they tended to avoid him. At Laura's urging he took medical leave for two weeks and checked himself into the local hospital. Extensive tests were performed including MRIs and bone scans. A wide array of blood studies was also done. But again the tests all came back within normal limits. He was discharged after a three-day stay. Thankfully his medical insurance covered the entire bill. Medically there was nothing wrong with Paul. Or at least nothing that could be proven. *** Paul rinsed off the soap suds and stepped out of the shower. He toweled himself dry and immediately noticed the irritation on his chest as he rubbed the towel over himself. He looked down and saw the slightly erect nipples sprouting out from his darkened and expanded areoles. And he gaped at the small soft mounds of flesh that supported them. "Holy shit! I've got breasts!" he exclaimed as his voice cracked. He turned to the bathroom mirror and gazed at himself. He ambiguously viewed his tiny breasts in fascination and horror. "What's going on? How can this be happening?" Paul walked to the bedroom dresser and felt the gentle tug of his small breasts as he ambulated. He slipped into a fresh pair of briefs and a T-shirt. He walked back to the bathroom mirror and looked at himself. His breasts could clearly be seen under the T-shirt. "Oh shit. This won't do." He slipped into a pair of jeans and secured the belt using the very last hole. And the pants still felt as if they'd fall off his waist. He rolled up the cuffs and put on three pairs of socks so his sneakers wouldn't slip off his feet. "I've got to get some new clothes." That night Paul drove to Sears and purchased a small wardrobe. To his shock he discovered that the men's sizes were too large and he had to confine himself to the boy's department. But he still had difficulty finding jeans that fit properly. He struggled hoisting them onto his waist because they were all too tight in the seat. He stood before the mirror in the dressing room and closely scrutinized his reflection. And as he examined his newly rounded hips and slightly padded derriere it became obvious to him why he'd had so much difficulty with the jeans. Paul blushed as he thought about what he needed to do. But it had to be done so he took a deep breath and headed toward the ladies' department. He found several pair of jeans there to his liking and took them back to the men's dressing room. Two pair fit well and he bought them. *** It was the Sunday night before Paul was scheduled to return to work and he stood before the full-length mirror and gaped at his reflection in shock and awe. His breasts had continued to grow over the past week. He believed that they'd probably reached A-cup territory. And that, unfortunately, was not the only change he witnessed as he continued to view his reflection. He saw that his waist had thinned some more and his hips and butt had continued to swell. And that wasn't all. He looked at his face and saw the small changes there too. His nose looked a bit smaller and his chin now terminated in a soft oval point. His face looked rounder and softer. It was starting to look feminine. And three days ago Paul noticed that he was unable to attain an erection. No matter how hard he'd tried he couldn't get it up. He continued to gape at his image and he finally said aloud what he'd been thinking for the past several days: "I'm slowly turning into a girl." He didn't know how it was happening but there was no doubt about the fact that it was. His body was somehow altering into a woman's body. All the verification he needed was right there in front of him captured in the mirror's image. He dressed in his new jeans and a polo shirt and sat at the kitchen table. He wondered what he was going to do. He didn't have a clue. Paul looked down at his chest and saw that his breasts were obviously discernible under the polo shirt. He wondered whether they'd continue to grow. But he knew that he already needed a bra. He gazed at his hands and noticed that they, too, looked different. They appeared softer and almost delicate-like. And his fingers looked slender and a little longer than he remembered. Even his fingernails looked different now. They no longer looked square. Now they looked oval. "Even my hands look feminine now," he whispered. And in reaction to the outspoken admission he felt his face flush. He thought for awhile and realized that he couldn't return to work tomorrow. Not looking like this. He'd even been too embarrassed to see Laura over the past week. He'd come up with one excuse after the other to avoid seeing her. As if on cue Paul heard the knock on his door. He heard Laura say, "Come on Paul. Open up. I know you're here. I saw your car in the lot." Paul figured he might as well get it over with so he opened the door and let her in. "Hi Laura." He heard his voice crack. "Oh my God. Is it you Paul?" "Yeah. Unfortunately it's me." "I can't believe it. You look like a...a..." "Girl. Yeah. I know." "What's happened to you Paul?" He thought he knew the answer. And he thought he was ready to tell Laura. He felt he needed to tell someone and Laura had been his closest friend since he'd arrived here. Not to mention his lover as well. Paul ushered Laura into the living room and they sat down on the couch. "There's something I haven't told you Laura. Before I got here I ran into a bit of trouble with the law in Brooklyn. I volunteered to participate in an experimental medical program to get the charges dropped. They injected me with something which, I believe, caused these changes. It has to be the reason. It's the only thing I can think of." "Are you serious?" "Yeah. I am. Unfortunately." "Whew." "Yeah. Fucking whew." *** Over the next week the changes continued to overtake Paul. He'd hoped they'd slow down or stop altogether. But contrary to his fervent wishes they'd accelerated. His breasts had continued to grow on a daily basis and he couldn't avoid wearing a brassiere now. Laura had bought him three bras a few days ago and he wore one now. She'd advised Paul that he was a size 36B. And he'd continued to lose body size and mass. At 5'7" tall Laura was now a good two inches taller than he was. And that was in her bare feet. And when he weighed himself yesterday he was down to 115 pounds. He wondered where it would all stop. His facial features had continued to feminize too. His nose had become smaller and had taken on a slightly upturned shape. His chin now ended in a soft point which gave his face an oval form. His cheekbones looked higher and his lips had puffed up. And his eyebrows had thinned out and become two slender arcs over his eyes. His eyelashes had even become lush and long. There was no question about it. Paul had a girl's face now. But his face wasn't the only thing that continued to change. In addition to the breast growth his waist had tapered and his hips had swelled. And his ass had become padded and full. Even his legs had taken on a feminine appearance. They'd become shapely. But this morning he'd encountered the most alarming change yet. When he stood before the toilet and attempted to pee he had difficulty finding his penis. He immediately stripped his shorts off and examined himself. And he found that his penis had withered and shrunk. It couldn't have been more than an inch long. But that wasn't all. He'd felt for his balls and couldn't find them. They were gone. He thought he could feel them inside his body but he wasn't sure. And he noticed that the empty sac had shriveled. It was almost as if it were climbing onto his groin to attach itself there. Paul's head was swimming in anxiety, fear and trepidation. He didn't know what to do so he undressed and climbed into bed and went to sleep. He hoped that slumber would relieve his anguish, at least for a few hours. *** The knock on Paul's door awoke him. He arose and slipped into his bathrobe which was way too large on his diminutive frame. "It'll have to do," he thought as he tightened the belt. He walked to the door and felt his breasts swing and sway without a bra to keep them in place. He also felt the bottom of the bathrobe drag along the floor. It was Laura and he let her in. She looked at him and chuckled. "What's so funny?" "You look ridiculous in that robe. It looks like you're wearing a tent." "It's all I've got." "That's what I want to talk to you about Paul. You need to update your wardrobe. You know, to accommodate your new appearance." Paul saw that Laura had a large suitcase in her hand. "I bought you some of my clothes to wear until you buy some of your own. You may find them a little large but they have to be better than the things you've got." "Uh...thanks." They walked into the living room and Laura set the suitcase down on the coffee table. She opened it and removed a light blue cotton dress which she held out in front of her as if to showcase it. "This is pretty. Don't you think? I bet you'll look nice in it Paul." Paul's face was red as a beet. "No way Laura. I'm not putting that on. Don't you have any pants in there?" "But..." "No buts about it. I'm not going to wear a dress. And that's final." "Okay, okay. You're lucky I brought some nice slacks and blouses too Paul." Laura dug into the suitcase and retrieved a pair of gray wool slacks and a white cotton blouse which she handed him. She then fished out a pair of white cotton panties and a new package of nude pantyhose. She held them out to him. "You're going to need these too Paul." Paul's face was red again. He said, "I'm not going to..." Laura cut him right off. "You've got to wear proper underwear and stockings now Paul. I know your shorts and socks don't fit you anymore. You can't just wear pants with nothing on underneath. It's not hygienic." Laura made sure to avoid the word "lady-like." "But..." "Not a word more Paul. I can understand your reluctance to wear the dress. But underwear is something else altogether. Do you understand what I'm saying?" Paul frowned. He had a defeated look on his face. "Yeah. Okay." "Good. Now why don't you go into your bedroom and dress yourself. And don't forget to put on a bra too. Call me when you're ready for the pantyhose. I'll give you some help." Paul took the garments from Laura and walked into his bedroom with his head down. Laura smiled as Paul walked away. She felt sorry for him but she was also amused by his reactions. He was acting as if being a woman were a disease or something. "Men!" Laura sat down on the couch and waited for Paul to call her. She thought that it would be fun helping him adjust to his new appearance. She was an only child and had been lonely growing up. She'd always wanted a little sister. "Maybe Paul could be the little sister I never had?" she wondered. "Uh...Laura! I'm ready for the...you know..." She walked into the bedroom and saw Paul standing near the bed in panties and bra. He was holding the package of pantyhose. He looked helpless. She walked to him and she took the package and opened it. She then gave him instructions on how to put the hose on. Laura watched as Paul slipped into the pantyhose. She gave him advice as he proceeded and he finally hoisted the hose onto his waist and over the panties. "See. That wasn't so hard, was it?" she rhetorically asked. "Why don't you walk around a little and see how nice it feels?" Paul took a few steps and immediately felt the pleasant sensations as his legs brushed against each other. He impulsively smiled. Laura noticed. "See. I told you. Doesn't it feel nice Paul?" "Uh...yeah. I guess." His face was red. Laura helped him with the slacks and blouse and Paul was finally dressed. She stood back and looked at him. She concluded that he looked very feminine. "He'll look even better when I get him into a dress," she thought. They walked into the living room and Laura retrieved a pair of black leather shoes from the suitcase. They had 2" heels. She offered them to Paul. "I'm not wearing those shoes. They've got heels." "I'm getting a little tired of this Paul. The heels are low. And they're the only shoes I've got here that match your outfit. You can't walk around without shoes. Now put these on," she demanded. Paul was exhausted from resisting her. He sighed and accepted the shoes. He sat down and slipped them onto his feet. "Now walk around a little and practice Paul." For the next few minutes Paul walked around his apartment until he felt comfortable in the heels. He returned to the living room and saw Laura holding a tape measure in her hand. "What's that for?" "I want to measure you so I can buy you some new clothes." "Oh." *** Paul awoke the next morning and received yet another shock. When he stood before the toilet and attempted to pee he couldn't find his penis at all. As small as it had become it was now completely gone. He sat on the toilet seat and scrutinized himself. He saw the tiny hole that had been left in the wake of his vanished penis. He also saw the formation of his vulva. His testicular sac had risen and mounted his groin where it reconstituted itself into his new labia major and minor. And he looked closely and saw his new clitoris perched at the summit. Paul continued to examine himself in dread and wonder and he spotted his new vaginal opening. He tried to penetrate it with his forefinger but couldn't get the finger in past the first joint. He wondered why. He felt the need to urinate and he pushed. He watched in curious fascination as the stream of urine shout down from the small pee-hole into the toilet below. The stream slowed and dribbled to a halt and Paul observed the small wet spots left behind on his vulva. He tore a piece of tissue off the roll and wiped himself clean. Paul flushed the toilet and stood up. He stepped over to the mirror and gazed at his reflection. He now looked like a woman from head to toe. He felt as if he were trapped. His legs felt rubbery and he became dizzy. He began to breathe heavily. Paul quickly ran to the bedroom chair and sat down right before he passed out. *** Over the next three days Paul's vaginal canal deepened into the pits of his groin. By the third day he was able to insert his entire forefinger into himself with room to spare. And it didn't escape his attention how good it felt when he did it, which made him blush in embarrassment. "Well at least it's over now." Or so he'd thought. *** It was Sunday morning and Paul had just stepped out of the shower. He heard the knock on his door and loudly said, "Come in." He'd been expecting Laura and had left the door unlocked. Laura entered the apartment and lugged in all the boxes and bags. She'd spent a good part of Saturday shopping and had spent over a thousand dollars buying new clothes for Paul. "It's me. Laura." "I'm in the bathroom Laura," Paul called out as his voice cracked. Laura made two more trips to her car before she retrieved all the packages and when she finally closed the apartment door behind her she heard Paul's shriek. She darted into the bathroom and saw him sitting on the toilet gazing at the trail of blood on his thigh. He had a look of shock and horror on his face. Laura smiled. "Relax honey. It's only your first period. I'll get you a tampon." Laura walked into the living room and retrieved her purse. As she fished out the tampon she smiled in amusement at Paul's reaction to his first visit. He'd acted like a 13-year-old girl who'd unexpectedly experienced her first period in high-school gym class. Laura walked back into the bathroom and saw Paul sitting on the toilet lid wiping his thigh clean with a hand towel. He looked up at Laura. His face was red. "I'm...I'm sorry. I didn't know what..." "It's okay honey. Now you know." Laura felt sorry for Paul. He was so embarrassed. He'd just become a 26-year-old virgin who'd experienced his first period. Laura thought back to the time she'd had her first period and knew that Paul would never forget this momentous event. She softly smiled at him. Laura remembered the task at hand. "Spread your legs Paul. I'll help you with the tampon." Paul immediately crossed his thighs and bent over in awkward embarrassment. He looked down at the floor and softly rocked back and forth. He was obviously traumatized. Laura knelt down and grasped the sides of his head. She gently raised it until their eyes met. She softly smiled at him. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about sweetie. Every girl goes through what you've just experienced. It's only your first period. There'll be many more to come. It's really not that big of a deal. Okay honey?" Paul looked at Laura and realized she was right. He'd acted foolishly. But he still couldn't overcome the sense of humiliation that had completely engulfed him. "Okay honey?" Laura repeated. Paul barely managed to respond, "Yeah. Okay." "Good. Now will you do exactly what I say?" "Yeah." Don't even think about it. Just listen to me. Okay?" "Yeah." "Good. Lean back Paul." He complied. "Good. Now spread your legs open." Paul balked and Laura said, "Don't even think about it. Just do it sweetie." Paul slowly spread his legs. "That's fine Paul," and Laura inserted the tampon. Paul softly sighed as the tampon entered his tunnel. *** Paul was in equal parts exhausted and humiliated from his first menstrual encounter. He told Laura he wanted to sleep for a few hours. "I understand honey," Laura said as she tucked Paul under the bed covers. "Would you like me to come back later?" "Okay." Laura softly kissed Paul on the forehead and left. *** Laura returned to Paul's apartment six hours later and found him sitting on the couch watching television. He wore the new pink silk bathrobe Laura had bought him. "I see you've found your new bathrobe." "Yeah. Thanks. How much do I owe you for all of this?" Laura immediately noticed the change in Paul's voice. He now spoke in a woman's voice. He'd obviously made the discovery himself before she returned since he acted as if nothing were out of the ordinary. And Laura noticed that his Adam's apple had disappeared as well. "Not a cent. Consider it a gift for my little sister." Paul wasn't sure what Laura had meant by that reference but he said, "Thanks." "You're welcome Paul." "Listen, I want to apologize for the way I acted this morning Laura. I'm sorry. I feel so foolish. I feel..." "Don't be silly Paul. You've got nothing to be embarrassed about," and she smiled at him. "Well, thanks for putting up with my antics Laura. I appreciate it." They spent the next two hours unpacking and viewing all the clothes, shoes and cosmetics Laura had purchased. And it didn't escape Laura's attention that Paul hadn't objected to any of the dresses and skirts she'd bought him. *** Paul spent the next few days relaxing and thinking about his new circumstances. And doing a little research on the Internet at the public library. As impossible as it may seem he realized that he was now a physiological woman. And he decided that he wanted to learn how this most improbable conversion had been inflicted on him. And why. Paul knew that if he found the answers to those questions then it may lead him to a solution. One that might reverse the changes that had overtaken him. Maybe it was a longshot but he didn't think it was an impossibility. And Paul knew that to find his answers he'd have to return to Brooklyn. He'd have to revisit the Westbrook Medical Clinic. And perhaps touch base with his lawyer and the district attorney's office too. But there were other reasons for him to return to the New York metropolitan area as well. He'd researched the medical phenomenon transsexualism on a number of websites and he felt that it was in his best interests to be examined at a sexual dysphoria clinic by a specialist in the field of gender transition. Maybe that would give Paul a clue as to how and why he'd suffered this indignity. And he also wanted to look up Lenny Baumgarten. Paul remembered that his lawyer had told him that Lenny had taken the same deal that he had. Paul was curious to see what, if anything, had happened to Lenny. And if Lenny had suffered the same result then they could compare notes. They could work together. Maybe it would lead Paul to a cure. Paul didn't know whether he could change what had happened to him but he did know that he'd never forgive himself if he didn't at least make the effort to find some answers. So he made a few plans and advised Laura that he'd be leaving for Brooklyn next Monday. Laura was surprised. "Do you need my help Paul? Do you want me to go along with you?" "No thanks Laura. I need to do this alone." "Are you coming back?" "I hope so. But I'm not sure." Laura looked misty-eyed. Paul said, "Thanks for all your help Laura. I couldn't have survived with my sanity intact without your help." And Paul stood on his tippy-toes and kissed Laura on the cheek. PART THREE - OEDIPUS LENNY Sophie Baumgarten knocked on Lenny's bedroom door. "Come on Lenny. Aren't you ready yet?" Sophie was excited. Lenny was starting in the new job at Sophie's beauty parlor in Canarsie, Brooklyn today and she wanted everything to go smoothly. Lenny finally opened the door. "Mornin' Ma." "Let me get a good look at you Lenny," Sophie said and she grabbed Lenny's hands and looked up and down. "You look so pretty! I'm so proud of you!" "Yeah Ma," Lenny casually said. "Don't be so indifferent Lenny. I know how hard you've worked to look so nice. You're talking to me now." And she stared at Lenny and smiled in pleasure at how pretty her young daughter looked. Sophie gazed at Lenny's face and observed her smooth complexion and full red lips. She noticed that Lenny had such a pretty oval face and luxuriously long black hair which framed it like an elegant picture. And she'd applied her makeup to bring out the best in her looks. "Can we go now Ma?" "Don't rush me Lenny. I haven't finished admiring my lovely young daughter yet." Sophie gazed at the attractive blue silk floral print dress that hugged her daughter's body and made her look so shapely. And she gazed down and felt proud of Lenny's shapely nylon-sheathed legs that ended in the sexy 3 1/2" blue leather pumps. "Are we ready to go yet Ma?" "In a minute Lenny." Sophie gazed at her daughter's soft hands which she still clutched. "You have such pretty hands Lenny. And such beautiful nails." Sophie stared in admiration at her daughter's long red nails which she'd manicured so expertly. "I'm so proud of the way you've done your nails. You'll make such a good nail attendant at the beauty parlor. You were born for this job Lenny." "Yeah Ma. Can we go now?" "Okay Lenny," and Sophie leaned down and kissed her pretty young daughter on the cheek. As Sophie and Lenny left the fashionable brownhouse and walked toward Sophie's car across the street Lenny couldn't help but reflect on the events which had led up to this day. Lenny had accepted the deal to escape incarceration by volunteering to participate in the medical pilot program. He'd been told that the Disease Control Board wanted to test an experimental drug for leukemia to see whether there'd be any harmful side-effects. He was also advised that the Board would pay him $25,000 to try the drug. Lenny was willing to risk most anything to escape the life imprisonment he faced. So he became a human guinea pig. After spending only three days in the clinic he was discharged home $25,000 richer. And his home was a room in his mother's brownstone on Remsen Street in Canarsie. Lenny was 25 years old and he'd never moved out of his parents' house. Even his father had fled the coop. He'd grown sick and tired of Sophie's monkey business and two years ago he walked out one night to pick up the evening newspaper and never returned. But Lenny had returned to the Canarsie brownhouse upon his discharge from the Westbrook Medical Clinic because he had nowhere else to go. And in an attempt to make peace with his mother he'd given her the $25,000 which she'd used to pay off the mortgage on the beauty shop and update some of the shop's equipment. Sophie was appreciative at first but it didn't take long for her to start in. She'd asked Lenny, "How could you have gotten mixed up with those people? Murder Lenny? What were you thinking?" "I told you Ma. It wasn't my fault." "You've been nothing but trouble since the day you were born. Why couldn't you have been born a girl? Boys are nothing but trouble." But Sophie knew that she'd never bear the daughter she so desperately wanted because shortly after Lenny was born she'd developed a cancerous tumor in one of her Fallopian tubes necessitating a full hysterectomy. She'd managed to blame that as well as her varicose veins on Lenny's difficult childbirth. Lenny tried to make the best of living in his mother's house. But he had difficulty finding a job. The adverse publicity of the liquor store shooting made employers unwilling to hire him. All the local news channels and newspapers continued to cover the tragic event, especially in the light of Lenny's return to his boyhood home. So Lenny stayed in his room all day and watched television. And after a month he noticed that some bizarre things were happening to him. He lost all of his bodily hair and he shrunk considerably in size and mass. He visited his local medical clinic where the doctors ran many tests and assured him that he was a picture of health. So Lenny didn't worry about it too much. "So what. I'm hairless and smaller now. Things could've turned out a lot worse. It's better than bending over in the prison shower to pick up my soap," he rationalized. But then some other changes ensued that truly frightened him. He started to grow breasts and develop curves at the waist and hips. His facial features softened. He looked like a girl. Lenny became alarmed but his mother's reaction was something altogether different. "It's a sign from above Lenny. It's God's will. He's displeased with your life as a man and he's giving you a second chance as a woman!" "But Ma, I really think I should see a doctor and..." "Nonsense! Don't fight it Lenny! God's giving me the daughter I've always wanted! It's your destiny to be my daughter! It was meant to be!" Lenny grew tired of arguing with his mother so he relented. And much to his dismay he watched as he slowly became female. For over the next two months Lenny's breasts continued to grow and his penis and testicles shrunk and disappeared. He developed a vagina and vulva. His Adam's apple disappeared and his voice became that of a girl's. And in the final and most horrific phase of the proces