Selective Patterning Acquisition Mode free porn video

Selective Patterning Acquisition Mode By Bill Hart As I sat in my assigned room, I still wasn't entirely sure why I had answered that particular email. With my perfect 20-20 hindsight, I knew now I'd made a big mistake answering it. Unfortunately, I also knew I'd never be able to voice that unwanted opinion to anyone. I would have been much better off if I'd simply clicked on the 'delete message' of my email program as I generally did with all the spam email I got. That would have simply been the end of that and I certainly wouldn't be in the fix I now found myself in. I'd always wished someone could do something about all the damn spam email I constantly received. But that didn't seem likely. Those damn spammers always seemed several steps beyond wherever the anti-spam programs were. But for some reason, this particular spam message was different. Its subject caught my eye. I opened it. I read it. It made perfect sense. I'd never been overly worried about my baldness before. It was just the way things were. I'd been bald as a cue ball since my early twenties. It's genetics - I come from a very long line of bald men. In addition to not bothering me, it had never bothered her before. At least, that was what she'd told me over and over for the past thirty years. But clearly she'd lied. It was all in the damn note she left me. I simply couldn't understand how she could have left me the way she had. I'd lived with her for better than half my life. Nor did I really want to believe that our whole life together had been nothing but one lie after another. But it had to be true. That one horrible truth was clearly written in black on white in her own unmistakable hand. However, I still loved her. I also wanted her back. I'd do anything to get her to come back to me. In all likelihood, the idea that I might get her back had something to do with me opening and answering that spam email. If she didn't - had never - liked the old me that was bald, then perhaps that miraculous hair-restorer might do what it claimed in the email and inflame her desire for me once again. However, I was still unsure. At the same time its claim to re-ignite the fires of passion in my life was a sound selling point. And that all led to my foolishness. I suppose I should have left well enough alone, but how was I to know what would happen to me. But even had I known, I would have never believed it possible. All that mattered was I had a chance to get her back. In any event, I sent for that promised miracle that was the subject of the spam email. Oddly, it arrived the following Friday. When I looked through my mail after getting home from work, I was surprised by its speedy delivery. At the same time, its delivery on a Friday gave me an entire weekend to see what miracle it might actually perform. I suppose I should have been more concerned that there was no bill in the shipment. Even the cost had never been mentioned. It was strange that they hadn't asked for any payment. But at that point in time, I guess I wasn't thinking straight. Besides, there was an 888 number I could call if I had any questions or problems using the enclosed product. What could possibly be any simpler than that? I remembered thinking what sort of dumb klutz would have any problems using some kind of simple hair restoration product. The instructions for its use - in seven languages - were so simple that someone would have to be more inept than imaginable to screw anything up. Following the packaged instructions to the letter - I was sure that I had - I applied the miracle formula to my bald head. Nothing happened immediately. I was surprised. I had expected something to happen very quickly. In spite of never feeling that way before, I was quite disappointed that I was still bald. Unless I had misread the instructions, which didn't seem all that likely, I was convinced that something should have happened within minutes of the formula's application. But over an hour passed before I began feeling anything. I had almost given up. But then, my head suddenly began tingling. It lasted at least fifteen, possibly even as much as twenty, seconds and then stopped. If that was all there was to it, then it was definitely a major disappointment. I was sure glad I hadn't shelled out any good money for it. It wasn't until I'd walked into the bathroom and seen myself in the mirror that I realized it had actually worked. I had brown hair about a half an inch long covering my head. It was a sight I hadn't seen since I was a teenager. When I grabbed it and pulled, it actually hurt. As unbelievable as it seemed, it really was firmly attached. Even more amazing, my salt and pepper - actually it had been far more salt for the last several years - colored beard was the same brown color as the hair on my head. I hadn't even thought to put any of the formula on my beard. I suddenly felt energized, which, considering the long hard day I'd had at work, seemed very odd. As a result of feeling so energetic, I felt restless. I soon left the house and headed straight for the local bar. I suppose I wanted to celebrate my new good fortune. Girls' heads quickly turned as I entered the bar. It had been a long, long time since any girl had given me the eye. I could even feel the heat behind the stare of that hot-looking babe sitting alone at the bar. She had a great smile. I was convinced she was the right one to inflame my passions. Who needed her to come back, when I had this hot babe so close at hand? But as soon as I sat down, the mood had been broken when she'd called me 'Red'. I wondered why she had called me that until I caught my reflection in the mirror on the wall behind the counter. I was stunned. It was incredible. The hair on my head was about an inch long now. In addition to that, my hair - both on top of my head and in my beard - was somehow red. After excusing myself - the hot babe was clearly disappointed - I bolted from the bar and headed straight home. Once home again, I rushed to the bathroom. The hair on my head was very definitely red. I didn't know how it was possible, but the red appeared as if it might have been its natural color. That was strange, since I'd never in my life had red hair. It was clearly longer than it had been when I'd left the house. It might have also been longer than it had been when I'd seen my reflection in the mirror above the counter in the bar, but I wasn't too sure. If it were longer, it couldn't be that much. My beard was a darker red than the hair on head. That wasn't too unusual. Up until the time the gray had begun appearing in my beard, it had always been a darker color than the hair on my head. Aside from having all the red hair, nothing else really looked any different. But why was my hair red now? There was nothing in the instructions that even remotely hinted at the possibility of a change in hair color. Abruptly, I yawned. All that extra energy I'd been feeling was gone. Maybe it was a good thing I'd come home after all. I yawned again. It was a wider and longer yawn than before. Feeling exhausted, I decided I should go to bed. In the morning, I'd have to call that 888 number. They should be able to tell me why I had red hair now. But as I thought more about it, I wasn't too concerned about having red hair. It was just a small change that really wasn't that significant. And if it kept attracting hot-looking babes like that one at the bar tonight, its red color was a small price to pay for having a full head of hair. As I slid under the covers, I fell quickly asleep. When I woke up again, it was daytime. I doubted that I'd moved a muscle. I also felt achy and kind of strange. If that wasn't enough my mouth was full of hair. I managed to get most of the hair - it was that darker red shade my beard had turned - out of my mouth before getting out of my bed. However, it had left behind an odd residual taste. That was when I noticed I had another problem. There was a lot of hair the same color strewn about my bed. From where had it all come? I had no idea. That is, I didn't have an idea until I raised my hand to my face and discovered my beard was missing. I suppose it wasn't really missing; I knew exactly where it was. Even as I rubbed the soft uncovered flesh of my face, I wondered how and why I had shed my beard during the night. It wasn't all that hard to figure out it must have been the miracle formula I'd put on my head that had caused my beard to fall out. I just didn't understand why it should have done that. I knew I'd have to dial that 888 number that had come in the package. They'd certainly have to know the answer to that question. But before I called the number, I had to see if something else might have changed. I couldn't see calling them first and then checking if it just meant having to call them back again with another complaint. Nervously, I walked toward the bathroom. I had no idea what I was going to find when I finally got there. Once in the bathroom, I stared at my reflection in total disbelief. My beard, as I'd already discovered, was gone. The flesh of my face that hadn't seen the light of day since before I'd graduated from college was now as bare as a baby's behind. Even worse than that, it felt just about as soft. When I looked closer at my reflection, there were no real indications that there had ever been much hair on my face. If I hadn't known better, I could have easily sworn I'd never grown a beard in my life. But I was still recognizably me. At least, once I covered up the now denuded places of my face with my hands, I still looked like the me I sort of remembered being. I hadn't really seen my bare face in so long I was virtually a stranger to myself. Aside from its new red color, I still had all the chest hair I'd had when I went to bed. I thought it a little odd that the formula would cause my full beard to fall out, but leave my hairy chest alone. At that point, I suddenly realized that the hair on my head covered my ears now. I had no idea why I hadn't noticed that one little detail a lot earlier. I couldn't remember ever wearing my hair as long as it was now. What the hell had been in that formula they'd sent me? After wetting a washcloth, I wiped it across my face. Although it was a little chilly, it felt good. However, I was stunned when I ran the same cloth lightly across my chest and it left a wide swath of bared flesh behind. I stared back and forth at the hair-laden washcloth and my image in the mirror. What the hell was happening to me? Once again I lightly ran the washcloth across my chest. The result was the same. I had a rather well defined 'X' of bare skin running across my chest. Anxiously, I took a large towel and, as if drying myself after a shower, passed it over my arms, chest, and back. When I looked at myself in the mirror I wasn't too surprised at seeing the only hair I still had above my waist was that on the top of my head. Putting the towel over my shoulders, I headed straight for the phone. Those strange people selling this even stranger hair-restorer had a lot to answer for as far as I was concerned. They were going to get an earful and then some once I got them on the phone. I'd only taken two steps when I had to stop and catch my breath. It felt as if a bolt of lightning had shaken my body. I had no idea what might have caused it or what might be happening now. I took another short step and felt the same jolt once again. I had an idea. Slowly and very carefully, I removed the towel from my shoulders. When I took another cautious step, nothing spectacular happened. On the other hand, I found it totally unnerving when I looked down at my chest and saw that my small nipples were now fully erect. As I touched one of them with the tip of my finger, shivers began coursing through my body. They were certainly a lot more sensitive than I ever remembered them being. Not only that, they seemed bigger somehow. But my nipples weren't the only things that seemed bigger now. The darkened circles of flesh centered about them also seemed larger than I remembered. As impossible as it all seemed, they also seemed a little swollen. They were definitely far more tender to my touch than I remembered them being. But the simple act of touching them just felt so good. At the same time, my manhood stiffened as I continued touching my puffy chest. After a few - or possibly several - minutes had passed, I realized something was very wrong. When I looked down at my chest, I didn't believe what I saw. They weren't very big, but they were definitely noticeable. This simply wasn't possible. Touching or rubbing my chest couldn't make tits grow. However, small tits were clearly protruding from my now naked chest. As I'd leaned over, I suddenly realized the hair on my head had grown another inch or so longer. And even though my dick was still hard, it somehow seemed smaller than before. That was impossible. If touching my chest - I was still somewhat hesitant about referring to them as small tits - caused tits to grow larger and my dick to shrink, then I just wouldn't touch them... it... again. Dropping my hands to my sides, I raced to the phone. Once there, I punched in the 888 number as quickly as I could. I was convinced it was going to ring forever when no one at the other end picked it after the first ring. Supposedly the place had 24-hour customer service. That was on the packing slip with the phone number. I was ready to chew nails when it finished the second ring. When someone finally picked up the phone during the third ring, I screamed my problem into the phone. I wanted help and answers; I wanted them yesterday if not sooner. In all likelihood, I probably sounded more like some crazed madman than merely a simple irate customer. The girl on the other end told me to relax and calm down. How the hell was I supposed to relax and calm down? I didn't feel the least little bit like relaxing or calming down. However, I was kind of surprised she didn't hang up on me when I kept screaming at her. It almost seemed as if she'd been through this all before. I'd never talked to anyone, let alone a girl, like that before. Of course, I'd never been growing a pair of tits and watching my dick shrink before either. She stayed on the line and somehow got me calmed down enough so that she could determine who I was. Once she'd accomplished that she told me someone would be coming out from customer service immediately. All I had to do was wait for their arrival. She also suggested I put some clothes on. I wasn't too sure how she knew I was mostly naked, but that was the least of my concerns at that particular moment. Once I was off the phone, I went back to my room. After slipping into a pair of sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt, I went back to the living room, sat down in my reclining chair, and started waiting for those people from the customer service department. Since I didn't know how long it would be before they arrived - immediately meant different things to different people - I flipped on the television. That was a big mistake. Isn't hindsight great? As I'd watched the television - I don't even remember what I'd been watching - I'd absently begun rubbing my chest. It just felt so good. It wasn't until the doorbell rang that I'd realized what I was doing. At the same time I was stunned by the larger, fleshier mound my hand was now kneading. My other hand flew swiftly to my crotch. It didn't find too much of my cock and balls remaining there. As I rose to my feet, I quickly discovered that my hair draped the tops of my shoulders. The twin mounds of flesh beneath it pushed out the front of sweatshirt. My sweatpants seemed too long now, even though they fit too tightly about my hips. As I headed for the door, my body moved as it had never moved before. And yet, it all felt so perfectly natural. Anxiously, I opened the door. I wasn't entirely sure what the people outside would do when they got a good look at me. Although I hadn't seen myself in the mirror yet, I had a reasonably good idea what I must look like. I still wasn't all that sure I could trust any of them. However, if there were any answers to be had, then they just had to have them. I was a little surprised when I saw that I had three visitors. I had figured one would have been sufficient. The two guys looked me over very carefully from head to toe. I didn't like the way they'd looked at me, but surprisingly neither of them said anything out of line. The young woman with them was clearly a doctor and was just as clearly in charge. That probably explained the presence of the two men; they were there to protect her from me. She looked in my eyes. The light from her instrument seemed awfully bright. From some reason known only to her, she looked in my ears. She pulled at my hair. She poked and prodded at my new tits. As much as I hated the idea, it was hard not to think of them as tits. If something looked like tits and felt like tits, then in all likelihood they were tits. I wasn't too happy when she wanted me to pull my sweatpants down. A week ago things would have been different. I would have jumped at the chance to pull my pants down for her. But at that moment, I wasn't quite the man I'd always been. I refused to pull my pants down until those guys left the room. I didn't want them leering at me. I was so glad the doctor was on my side. She poked and prodded at my crotch. It was so embarrassing. I sort of remembered calling my dick a 'wee wee' when I'd been little. But my dick had become so minuscule that I really didn't think it rated two wee's now. In fact, I wasn't all that sure it rated even one. Once the doctor finished her examination, I pulled up my sweats. When she had the two guys come back into the room, I figured she had bad news for me and didn't want me beating the crap out of her. It was bad news. But on the other hand, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. This apparently wasn't the first time this had happened, but she seemed surprised that my case was so advanced for having only applied the formula to my head the night before. I wasn't about to tell her how caressing my new tits had apparently sped up the process. With my case as advanced as it was, they couldn't really do anything for me out in the field. I'd have to return with them to their field office. The doctor told me the field offices were better equipped to deal with my advanced situation. That made sense. I agreed to go. When she sat down behind the steering wheel and motioned for me to get in the back seat, I quickly decided I wasn't going anywhere if I had to sit between those two guys. I didn't think either of them had that much self-control. And I sure as hell wasn't about to take any shit from either of them. The doctor smiled at me, then agreed with me. I had this strange feeling she didn't trust those guys either. Even though both of the males grumbled and mumbled about her getting to sit in the back alone with me, they finally agreed. What choice did they have? They sure weren't too happy - I could only imagine what thoughts had been on their minds - but the doctor was still their boss and whatever she wanted she got. I didn't say anything to any of them as we headed for their field office. I just didn't feel like talking. Besides, my voice hadn't changed and I'd already seen how those twin dimwits in the front seat had reacted when they'd heard my deep male voice. It just no longer matched my altered body. It was a good thing we didn't have far to go. Experiencing too much silence just couldn't be very good. When we pulled up in front of their field office, an older officious looking man was standing in front of the building. He smiled at me, as he opened the car door. Immediately, I distrusted the self-important little twit. His bogus smile disappeared when I told him in my still deep bass voice that I was going to sue their collective asses clear into late next week if they didn't fix everything up again. If he couldn't tell I was totally pissed by what had happened, he was an idiot. Of course, having never met the man before, there was always a distinct possibility that he might have been an idiot anyway. He told me not to worry. Why didn't that make me feel better? Once inside the building, the doctor took me to a small examining room. After having me sit in the chair, she proceeded to repeat just about every test she'd already performed at my house. She didn't tell me anything that she'd hadn't already told me. And then, she told me to take my sweatshirt off. Although I wasn't too happy about it, I complied. I didn't really see any harm in removing my sweatshirt. It was just the two of us and she was a doctor. Besides, it wasn't as if she'd never seen a pair of tits before. However, I did sort of wonder how many guys with tits like mine she had examined. Somehow, I doubted I was the first. One thing I noticed immediately was the room being a little chilly. My nipples quickly stiffened. That was the very last thing I needed. I'd already experienced more than enough titillation for one day. However, that didn't keep the doctor from poking and examining my new tits. She lifted them gently and looked them over from every possible angle. I was sure glad she hadn't done that kind of examination back at my house. Those guys would have probably been drooling and wanting a piece of the action. I began wondering if whatever she'd done during her examination of me had caused my new tits to expand further. Even though I couldn't tell with any certainty one way or the other, I was convinced that they probably had. It just made sense. Every other time my tits had been caressed or tickled they'd grown larger. Once she finished her examination, I felt somewhat relieved. With all the information they'd gathered on me, I hoped I'd soon be my old self again. Before I had the time to ask if I should put my sweatshirt back on, the doctor swabbed my arm and emptied a syringe of who knew what through a rather large needle she'd stuck in my arm. I suddenly felt dizzy. That couldn't possibly be good news. Maybe I shouldn't have threatened to sue their asses into next week. Was this their way of getting even with me? I closed my eyes, hoping it would help. It did... but not nearly enough. As I opened my eyes again, the room was spinning wildly. My dizziness intensified. I began feeling nauseous. What had she done to me? I quickly closed my eyes. At least with my eyes closed, the room didn't seem to be spinning quite so wildly. Unfortunately, I still felt dizzy and increasingly nauseous. It was shortly thereafter that any further awareness of my surroundings faded away. Sometime later - just how much exactly I might never know - I woke up. I realized I must have passed out. Now I was in a bed or on a couch lying on my back. In addition to everything else, I felt strangely peculiar. I also found it quite disturbing that I'd been moved from that chair without any conscious knowledge of having been moved. I couldn't begin to imagine that being any sort of good news. I wasn't too sure I wanted to open my eyes again. But I did. And immediately wished I hadn't. Once thing was quickly obvious, I wasn't wearing my baggy sweatshirt. Whatever it was I was wearing - I assumed it must be made of spandex - fit me like a really tight glove that was clearly straining to contain my tits. I didn't want to believe I still had tits. Unfortunately, they were rather hard to miss now. They'd grown somewhat. They were simply nowhere near the size that I remembered having before the doctor had given me that shot. While I'd apparently been off in some kind of drug-induced dreamland, I'd developed a pair of monster-sized boobs. The low cut of the spandex top revealed cleavage that made a deep glacially carved valley look like a mere rut in the road. The next time I saw that doctor, I was going to do her a little bodily harm. Maybe I could suffocate her between my boobs. Nervously, one of my hands drifted to my crotch. I thought I might still be wearing the sweatpants, but I wasn't sure. However, there were other more important considerations. I was quickly convinced that what little had remained of my manhood before was now completely gone. There was now a damp slitted mound in its place. I was pissed. I was going to kill that damn bitch. She'd lied to me. She hadn't changed me back into me at all. As I sat up, all that new weight on my chest almost caused be to keep right on going. Fortunately, even though I wasn't accustomed to them being there, I was somehow able to catch my balance before I could fall flat - flat, what a damn joke - on my face. Only then did I notice that my red hair flowed down over my shoulders to the middle of my back. In the front, my hair tickled the tops of my new massive boobs. I must be some sight to see. Slowly, I walked toward the mirror that hung on the wall. I couldn't believe how fluidly my body moved. It was almost as if - but that was simply impossible - I'd had years and years of practice walking with these oversized twin melons hanging so boldly from my chest. Aside from the totally obvious, what else had they done to me? Even that question readily paled when I arrived in front of the mirror. It just wasn't possible. Staring back at me from the silvered surface was a perfect stranger. And I definitely meant perfect. I had never seen anyone so perfect in my whole life. How could that be me? But who else could it be looking back at me from the mirror. I certainly looked nothing like I'd looked before. I was undeniably a girl - all girl, at that - now. If I had to guess, I'd have to think I was in my early twenties. I was also totally hot. The only real problem I had was this hot sexy babe reflected back at me from the mirror just wasn't the real me. She was some stranger that, under other circumstances, I certainly wouldn't have minded taking straight to my bed. My thoughts of what had transpired were interrupted when that damn doctor entered the room. They'd probably been watching me from the time I'd awakened. I'd make them sorry that they'd done this to me. How could I help but win my billion-dollar lawsuit once I testified about what they'd done to me? But all of that abruptly changed a few seconds later. When the doctor had entered, I'd turned and began yelling at her. But my screams and yells abruptly ceased. I should have guessed this would happen; I should have known better. The high-pitched soprano voice coming from my throat simply wasn't mine. My new voice seemed to ooze sex; I could just feel it. This just wasn't fair. I was going to have far more trouble winning my lawsuit looking and sounding like this. I went back and plopped onto the bed. I no longer felt like putting up a fight. I'd been screwed, even if only figuratively for the moment. I doubted a literal screwing could be very far behind. It all me wonder how many other stupid dumb schmucks like me had been suckered in by this spam email nightmare. I asked the doctor for a glass of water. She left the room, but returned a moment later with tall glass. I was somewhat surprised when she held it out to me. I'd half expected her to give me a hard time, while she'd gloated about what she'd done. I didn't like the way she was evilly smiling at me either. Not wanting to give her any chance of taking it away from me again, I took it and chugged its contents before handing the empty glass back to her. I smiled at her this time. But she seemed totally unfazed by my small show of open defiance. I wasn't all that surprised by her apparent indifference. Instead, she peered into my eyes with that little device of hers again. I wondered why she was doing it now. Was she expecting to find something different this time? However, I was surprised that the light didn't seem nearly as bright as it had either time before. As her examination continued, she spoke to me softly, but even now I can't actually remember a single word that she spoke to me. When the doctor finally finished her examination, she stepped back and smiled at me. She handed me a book - a photo album actually - and asked me to look through it. Although I knew I should have been more suspicious of her odd action, I saw no reason not to do what she'd asked. What harm could it possibly do just looking at few pictures? Even as I flipped through the pages of the album, I didn't know why the doctor had wanted me to look at these pictures. I didn't really find any of them overly interesting. I was sure everything would have been totally different if I'd only seen them last week. But now, I just couldn't get that worked up about these pictures of girls in their skimpy bikinis. After all, I just knew that I looked a whole lot better than any of them. However, something didn't seem right about me having that thought. I liked girls. Despite my hot sexy young female body, I was still a man. What I was thinking was wrong. I knew I shouldn't be thinking any of those thoughts of how much better I looked than any of those girls, even if it were the honest truth. I gave the book back to the doctor. She merely smiled. It was at that moment the doctor first called me Brigitte. I didn't know why she'd done it. My name wasn't Brigitte; my name was Barney. Brigitte was a girl's name and in spite of my appearance I was a man not a girl. I started to object, then decided against it after glancing toward the mirror. My eyes were such a nice sexy green. Truthfully, I saw no reason to object to being calling Brigitte. I liked the sound of the name Brigitte. In addition, I thought it fit me just perfectly. Not only that, but I certainly looked a lot more like a Brigitte than any Barney I'd ever known before. Where was the harm in letting people call me Brigitte? Besides, I simply couldn't imagine strolling up to some hot studly hunk and introducing myself as Barney. How totally droll could that be? He'd think I was crazy. He might think my parents had wanted a boy and got stuck with me instead. That just wouldn't do. That settled it all right then and there. For as long as I had this marvelously hot sexy body I had, people could just call me Brigitte. Once I got my old male body back, then I'd let people start calling me Barney again. It all seemed perfectly fair and equitable to me. I was very pleased with myself. I wished all my decisions could be so easily made. But then, it wasn't really that tough of a decision. But I did have one little problem with it. I wasn't all that sure I wanted my old male body back. I liked being Brigitte. I also liked being a totally hot babe. Even though the man in me told me this was all wrong, I'd already realized there were far more advantages in remaining Brigitte than there were in being restored to Barney. I was younger. I was hotter and sexier. I was a total babe. With this body, I could get any man I wanted at any time I wanted him. The old male me certainly couldn't make the equivalent claim. Being a man myself, I knew how well a pretty face and a busty body could turn even the wisest man's mind into Swiss cheese. I liked the sense of power that it gave me. If that wasn't enough, that spam piece of email had claimed the hair-restorer would re-ignite the fires of passion in my life. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out whether Brigitte or Barney's passions would flare hotter... or longer. I turned and asked the doctor if she knew someplace where we could find us a couple of handsome young studs. Although she said nothing, she smiled at me. She still had such a devilishly wicked smile. I liked it now. I was also convinced I now possessed my own devilishly wicked smile. THE END