Skirting The Uncanny Valley free porn video

Skirting the Uncanny Valley I came home to find a beautiful sunset waiting outside on the balcony, and Samantha staring blankly at the barest wall in the flat. She had chewed off half her makeup, I saw little specs of red on her teeth; and though her hair was already shoveled to one side, she continued to run her fingers through it. The bottom dropped out of my stomach. I sat down and stared into that same blank wall. "Did they call you back?" I asked. "She called me back," she said. "Did you get it?" "They don't know yet, she's got to check with the suits for something like this." "But she wants you?" "Yes, she said I was her first choice." Samantha's voice seemed strange, seriously sarcastic. "So I don't know I might give that a twenty percent chance." "Are you sure?... I mean about you." "Sure?... hell no, Adam," she said softly, "but I had to tell her I was serious, in order for her to even bring it up with her producer." "Is it that important to them? Not that you're not great, it just seems like an awful lot of money. And what if it didn't turn out right?" "Well Helen seems pretty sure about it... about me, she said I'm perfect save for one little detail. And they've already got a few hundred million wrapped up in it, so what's one or two more? You know if it weren't for... the thing we'd be out getting drunk and celebrating right now." "Yeah, well one out of two wouldn't be so bad would it? I take it you asked if they couldn't just do it in post?" I tried to say as objectively as possible. "I did, but Helen brushed it aside. Doing it in post would probably cost even more, and then she brought up the uncanny valley. You know how computer generated people just look a little off, a little dead? I mean unless they are cartoons or something? She said she didn't want that for any of the main characters even in a film heavy with cg." "She's pretty adamant about it then?" "Well, what she actually said was 'Mesa want really characters in Mesa film!'" "Ah fuck," I sighed. "Fuck indeed," sighed Samantha. And we sat there staring at that blank wall until the sun went down and the room grew so dark that we could hardly tell if each other was there, save for the whisper of our breath and the heat of our bodies. "So what do you want to do?" I asked. "I want both, I want to go for it, and I don't want anything to change. Actually I've been reading a few articles about it, people who did it for professional reasons." "And?" "They said the world didn't end. It wasn't too bad really, especially if it's just a temporary situation. One person described it as a fun adventure... but another person killed himself." "Yikes..." "Yeah well that's why they passed a law. You need to buy insurance in case you want it undone." There was an uncomfortable pause. "Which in your case you would?" I was suddenly even more worried than I'd been, even if rationally I knew it was for no reason. "Right?" "Of course, you don't have to worry about that, but I was thinking about something else. Something Helen told me." "What is it?" "I don't want to worry you," she said in her nervous though forcefully nonchalant voice. "Now you have me worried," I said matter-of-factly. "Let me ask you something Adam. If I - we could go through with this and two years from now, not have a care in the world except which island we wanted to retire to, everything back to normal, would you be behind it?" "That much money, really?" "I said retire to, not buy." Her voice sounded happy for the first time that night. "Or if you want we could blow it all on that vacation to the moon." "You'd let me blow it all?" "If that's what it took, I guess, though I'd rather be rich." "So you do want to do it?" "Only if you're okay with it, I know that sucks putting it all on you, but that's how I feel. I think it would be an amazing experience, and save for the one little detail, you know it's my dream." "Okay say I was willing to try, knowing full well that it might tear us apart." "Would it?" she asked. "I hope not, but that's the thing about emotions, you don't get to pick them. You know it would be awkward. You'd be there, I'd be there, but not really. It would almost be like a long distance relationship. I might as well go to the moon and write you for two years." "Well that's the thing." She pulled herself away from me, she was unsure of how I was going to take what she had to say. "The thing that Helen told me, was that because I've worked for the studio before, and because I'm in the union. Insurance is required to offer it to my spouse as well." I pulled away from her without thinking and said, "fuck," flatly. "Fuck indeed," sighed Samantha. We sat silently for a minute before she spoke again. "I did a little reading on it, if you are interested." "Yeah..." "It happens a lot when it's... voluntary. I mean when it's one partner that wants the change. Usually it's the man who wants it, and the woman goes through with it as well, those who swamp if you will, they are objectively four times as likely to stay together, and subjectively happier than those who don't." "You mentioned someone did it for professional reasons, what about them?" "There's only been two cases of that, both times it was the woman that initiated the change..." "Like us?" The words hung cold in my mind as soon as I uttered them. "Yeah, in the case where they swapped, they stayed together. When they didn't they didn't." "Not much of a sample set," I scoffed. "No it isn't." Her voice sounded sad, not tense, not desperate, just sad. "It probably won't come up. You said a twenty percent chance." "No, probably not," she whimpered. We sat in silence for the next hour, until I had to get up to go to the bathroom, and then I went to bed. She got up and joined me. We kept our distance from one another, tried to pretend the other person wasn't there, and then we both pretended to sleep until the sun came up. On the way out the door, I asked, "When will you know?" "Monday," she said. Three days. On Friday, we repeated the same thing over again, minus the talking. And on Saturday, minus getting up when the sun rose, we both tried in vain to sleep in, I on the couch, she in the bed. It was like it had already happened. She was in the living room, pretending to eat cereal. And when I walked up behind her, she pretended not to notice me. Finally I spoke. "Twenty percent?" I asked again. And I could see her pretending not to cry as a tear rushed down her cheek. "Twenty percent." This time I stated it. "That's not so bad, I'm a writer so I guess no one really needs to know where I am." Her shoulders relaxed, and she looked tired. When she got up, I followed her to the bedroom, and we both slept until the sun set. * * * It was odd getting up while it was still dark, in a few hours some of our neighbors would be off at church. Worshipping what I had up until that point considered their imaginary friend in the sky. Their imaginary friend who I now found myself praying to, "Eighty Percent, that's all I ask. Eighty percent." We didn't talk about it at all. Samantha didn't try, and I certainly wasn't going to bring it up. * * * Monday 6:15pm, Samantha gets a phone call. It goes like this (her side only) "Hello." "Yeah it's me. Samantha. Samantha Sterling." "No, nothing's wrong. It's just that other thing." "Yes that. And no, I have to disagree with you there, it really is a big deal." "Come on, don't mock me. You know this is a big deal." "Yes, yes I still want it. I want it more than anything I've ever wanted before." (long pause) "Sorry, fine." And then she hung up. "Twenty percent?" I asked. She shook her head and smiled a crooked smile. "One hundred percent... if we want it, but I need to call back in five minutes." I calmly asked, "Five mother fucking minutes?" "Five bitch cunt minutes," she said raising an eyebrow. "Bitch cunt," I said cooly. "Mother fuck," she responded. "I'm in," she said quite calmly, "but only if you are. You don't have to switch if you don't want to, support is enough, but I want to know if you're going to before I call back." She was really good at lying. She'd say a lie much more calmly then the truth. She does it all the time, and she used to do it with me. I first picked up on this the day before I asked her to marry me, when she told me it didn't matter if two people got married so long as they loved each other. And she hadn't tried it on me for four years, until just then. "I'm in." I sighed. "All the way in. But only as long as we need to, for the production, and then I get to go to the moon... If I want. And you can't say shit about this to the guys. For all they know we're out of the country. And we hate them now. Until the films are in the can and we're stinking rich." I thought about it for a second. "Also you need to get Helen to give me a writing credit, I'll write some dialog or something." At first she seemed apprehensive about that last part, then she picked up the phone. "Helen, it's Samantha. Look we're in but on one additional condition. Adam wants a writing credit." "Yes, I know the script is already done." "No, that'd be a deal breaker." There was a long pause. "Last billing is fine." "Yeah, yeah, fuck you too. Stay classy and see you in a week." She dropped her phone back into her pocket. "Cool, then it's on." "It's on?" I said stunned. "It's on," she said as though she had just kicked the devil in the balls. "Yeah, umm how long do we have?" I asked looking down at my pants. "We're supposed to go in today. Like five minutes ago." "Today? Now?" I felt my feet and my balls slip out from under me. "I know it's a bit sudden isn't it, but hey it's a two hour ride to the facility, so we can still chicken out. Plus then it takes about a week anyway, five days, so it's not like bam." We packed in a hurry, I wasn't too sure what to bring. Hell I didn't know what clothes would fit me in a week, so I packed my favorite shirt and pants, and then a bunch of sweats and a toothbrush. Samantha filled a gym bag, and we hurried down to our car. She had the address on a crumpled piece of paper, and as she entered it, I could see it was a couple hundred miles north, near the bay area. We got into the backseat with a bottle of wine, as we like to do on long trips, and let the car do its thing. "I've been reading up on it, if there's anything you want to know," Sam offered after taking a big swig of wine directly from the bottle. "Yeah, I have a lot of questions, but there is still one little issue I see with all this... Sex." "You mean, the fact that we're... not gay." She put it gently. "I could deal with a lot of the other things... I think, I mean knowing it's only temporary, although it's still a year or two off my life." "Actually that's not so bad. Remember a lot of this tech was first developed for purely medical reasons. So it tends to have a rejuvenating effect on the body." "Could we live forever?" I asked, the possibility suddenly making me feel optomistic. "Given enough treatments no one knows, it hasn't been around that long, ten years I hear. Some people have used it to make themselves look young, I heard someone used it to look ten again. But it can't reverse aging on a cellular level. The best it can do is put you into perfect health for someone of your age. But they aren't sure of the long term health issues either. Most doctors say it could add thirty years to someone's life if they do it really late in life. The earlier you do it... the more time life has to catch up with you." "So what? We might expect to gain at least a year or two?" For the first time I was feeling happy about all this. "At least. Or even more, the longer we wait before using the reversal. Or if we make enough money from this, we could pay for a session or two just for rejuvenation." "That's awesome!" I said, as Samantha handed me the bottle. I took a long pull. "Why don't I hear more about it then? And why do we still have people in wheelchairs if this could cure them?" "Well, 'a' it's really expensive, and 'b' it doesn't work so well on nerve tissue, which more or less limits it to people who want to change cosmetically, or people who want to regenerate soft tissue. It works wonderfully for people with heart issues, and certain types of cancer, so I hear." "And it takes about a week? What do they do exactly?" "Five days, and it's a trade secret. From the accounts of other patients, the put you under each night, and that's when they do whatever they do to you." "And the government lets them? Couldn't they be body snatchers or something?" "They run under strict government regulation, but you need top secret clearance to know exactly what they do. I get the impression the government had been using it for a long time before it went public. Some senator got sick or something and needed it, so they let it out for medical slash making-a-boat-load-of-money reasons." "And also so Helen Cadwell can have the actor she wants, in a part that doesn't quite fit her?" "Lucky for us hunh?" "Yeah lucky." I found my hand covering my crotch protectively. "You were worried about sex right?" "Yep." Gulp. "Well, that might be an issue, but it might not be. Let's just take it really slowly." "How could it not be an issue? I mean even if it's you, I can't imagine it feeling right... Not that I'm not willing to try... eventually." "They say it tends to flip a switch in your brain. Hetro people usually stay... well hetro. And gay people usually stay gay." "Usually?" I asked. "Around seventy-five percent yes. And one doctor thought the other twenty five percent were liars." "So I'm probably going to enjoy it?" "Yeah, probably." She grabbed the bottle back from me. "That's a mind fuck and a half, isn't it." "From what I gather," she agreed. "Ehhh..." I sighed. "What is it?" "I just realized, if we're in the car now. I'm probably not going to get a chance to use Mr. Lucky again, for a very long time." "They say that should continue to work until sometime during day two..." She was trying to cheer me up. "But..." "but what?" "But it's not quite the same, but... we still have an hour and a half left in the car." She shrugged. I took the bottle from her and closed it. "Well then, let's get to it." * * * We got to "the facility" late that first night. It wasn't nearly as intimidating as it sounded, they called themselves a "cosmetic rejuvenation spa", and were located in a building adjoining a five star hotel, which was itself adjoining a shopping mall. And although we'd spend our nights in the spa, for treatment, Helen had booked us a small junior suite in the hotel as well. The staff there didn't ask a whole lot of questions, they just took a blood sample. I took Samantha aside at one point and asked if we wouldn't get some choice in our appearance. She said that Helen had already done projections on her, and was quite pleased with the results, though she didn't have a photo, and that they'd only cover the basic service on spouses anyway, but not to worry, as the results put people into perfect physical condition. Then before I knew it, I was sitting in a chair with a doctor asking me to count back from ten. Day 1 I woke up laid out in a hospital gown on the bed in the junior sweet, with Samantha laying down next to me. She still looked like herself, though it looked like she had been working out heavily for the last month and a half. She opened her eyes and smiled at me, then got up and stretched her arms out. I got up to, noticing that I felt well rested, and just a bit skinny. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and began carefully examining my body. Basically, I looked younger. Everything about me looked slightly slimmer, slightly softer, but I still looked like me. The best way I can describe it, is that I looked like a fully grown fifteen year old version of myself. I still had my beard, still had everything in my pants, though maybe it seemed a bit shy today. The most startling change was when Samantha came up behind me, and gave me a friendly hug. I had been almost three inches taller than her at 5'10" and 5'7" respectively. But now, my height advantage was down to an inch, if that, with no idea how tall either of us actually was. Her shoulders were a litter wider too, but not unfeminine. I suppose now would be a good time for physical descriptions of ourselves, before last night anyway. We're both 27 years old, Caucasian. I'm been mistaken for a hipster from time to time, because I?m a skinny fuck, I weigh around 150 pounds, and like I said before I am, or I was 5?10?. Other than that, brown bushy hair, blue eyes, and usually a light beard. Samantha is, or was 5?7?, 108 pounds, long brown hair (bleached light blonde) and just about the most attractive person I?ve ever met, which helped immensely with her acting career. But she didn?t just fall into it, she started as a drama geek in high school, back when she looked like a dweeb, and just kept going. I put on my favorite shirt, and noticed it was loose. My favorite pants still fit, though I had to tighten my belt a notch. And I had to pull my shoe laces tight to get my shoes to feel right. There was a note on the door that read, ?Do whatever you like, eat whatever you want, avoid strenuous exercise and outdoor activity. We strongly recommend being back to the hotel area no later than eight as your treatment starts at ten each night. Come see me in room 308 if you have any questions. Otherwise I?ll check in with you around 4pm. All hotel services (including the buffet!!) and spa treatments are complimentary. Try to enjoy yourselves and have fun!! -Leslie? ?Do you remember a Leslie?? I asked. ?Adam, she was the one who greeted us last night, took us in to see the doctors. We only saw her for a minute, tall skinny Asian woman?? ?Yeah her. You hungry?? I asked. I was fucking starving. ?Fucking starving,? she replied. The buffet was fantastic, I came back to our table with a giant pile of pancakes and started digging in. I noticed a short hair on one of them, and picked it off, trying not to think about it, but then I noticed another and another. I wiped my face a few times, and each time the napkin came back with five or six hairs stuck to it. ?What?s wrong?? Samantha asked, noticing me picking my food apart with my fingers. ?Is there hair on your pancakes?? ?No... oh my god," she smiled. ?It?s not from the pancakes. It?s ah... coming out of your face.? I rubbed the back of my hand against my upper lip. It tickled more than usual, and I saw a few hairs float gently down in the morning light. ?What have I gotten myself into?? I headed back up to the room, with Samantha following close behind. My face and chest started to feel strange, everywhere they had hair started to itch like crazy. Once I got back and closed the door, I couldn?t get my shirt off fast enough. I went into the bathroom and started rubbing my face, and hair after hair fell out. Samantha was sitting on the edge of the bed looking in, trying to control a giggle fit. ?Sorry honey,? she said, "it?s just that you should see yourself." ?Ha ha, don?t remind me," I answered. She stood up, approaching me cautiously. ?Actually, would you mind if I have a look?? ?Is something wrong?? ?No, just curious, this sort of thing doesn?t happen every day.? ?Sure, knock yourself out.? She poured some lotion on a towel, and began rubbing my chest. The itching went away almost immediately. She rubbed until the towel had a light coating of hair, and my chest was completely smooth. Then she started on my face. When she was done, she ran the back of her hand against it. It felt so completely smooth, it reminded me of the feel of her own face. Then she pulled down my pants and started rubbing down there, though with a different purpose in mind. * * * Leslie was surprised at 4, that we hadn?t come by sooner. She handed us each a hotel spa guide, with various activities underlined. And I was a little taken aback when I saw a makeup lessons class circled in mine, with ?by day 4? written below it. She didn?t bring it up, she tried to stay as hands off as possible while pointing us in a certain direction. Day 2 The next morning I awoke before Samantha, and found myself examining her face. She still looked like a she, but the muscles of her face were more pronounced, and I saw the first hints of peach fuzz emerging near the corners of her mouth. They weren?t dark, she wouldn?t need to pull them but they were there. I ran my fingers through my hair, and noticed it seemed just the tiniest bit longer, and felt the tickle of fuzz just under my hairline. My penis seemed shy, very shy, like I?d been swimming in ice cold water. Though I noticed a bit of a warm tingling sensation around it. Samantha opened her eyes, the same eyes she?d always had, and smiled at me. ?Sexy as ever,? I joked in a surprisingly soft voice. It still sounded like me, just I had been trying to sound brash, maybe even a little sarcastic, and it somehow came out sounding soft. ?Oh really?? She seemed oblivious to my intention and grabbed my ass. Which made me feel uncomfortable. I tried to ignore it, but her hands worked their way over to my penis. They felt much stronger, harder than I remembered them, and though my penis became somewhat aroused, it never became fully hard. Eventually she stopped trying and got up. I got up myself, and the first thing she wanted to do was compare height. She pushed down on my shoulders until I got off my tippy toes. And I think we were just about the same height, more or less. She might have been standing on her tippy toes too, a little, just to look taller than me, but we were about the same. My features looked softer, boyish. I still looked like a 15 year old, though maybe not fully grown. And there was something different about my face, my nose was just a tad shorter, my eyebrows seemed lighter somehow. We hung out and watched movies most of the day at the theatre in the mall. I wore my sweats, but that didn?t seem out of place, with some people in track suits. We kept our hands off each other, Samantha tried to touch me a few times, but stopped when I didn?t respond. She didn?t seem offended or anything, but that day we seemed more like close friends then a couple. And I remember her asking me right before we went to sleep for the next treatment. ?Hey Adam?? ?What is it Samantha?? ?Do you think you could start calling me Sam tomorrow? It?s a little less... specific.? ?Okay.? I said, not really wanting to think about it. * * * Day 3 The next day I woke up, facing away from Sam. I slipped out of bed, very careful not to wake her, and snuck into the bathroom. My penis seemed almost flat against my belly, it didn?t stick out at all, unless I picked at it, and my testies were smaller, softer and much nearer my body. To my alarm while I was feeling them, one of them seemed to disappear, being sucked up into my crotch. I picked at it a while, until it came back out. I sighed to hear a prepubescent voice, and crept up slowly to look at myself in the mirror. The first thing I noticed was my hairline. I now seemed to have two of them, the original made of thick hair, and one sitting not quite an inch below that, formed of thin dark fuzz, each strand about an inch long. I looked like a 15 year old, not a boy, not a girl, just a generic kid. My lips were fuller, my chin just a touch shorter. And I looked smaller somehow. Sam- appeared at the door behind me. She- looked similar to me. Like she was a kid, maybe 18 years old, who could have been a boy or a girl. Sam was at least an inch taller than me now, with broader shoulders, and muscles that seemed to be developing behind shrinking breasts. I looked down at my own chest, and though I couldn?t see any breasts, it seemed softer, like there was something there, and my nipples though not larger, looked harder and darker. ?What do you think?? Sam asked in a stronger, though not deeper voice. ?Want to see mine?? Sam started pulling down, her?, pants and before I could look away I saw it, her clitoris, sticking out, smiling at me. ?Ah no, no thanks.? I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away. ?Oh...? Sam said in a warm voice. ?You?re just so cute!? When I peeked again, Sam?s pants were back on. Then I realized I was standing there naked, so I grabbed a towel, tied it around my waist and crossed my arms over my nipples. ?Sorry sweety,? Sam said. ?Look just keep reminding yourself, it?s only temporary. A year or so from now you?ll be back to your old self, sending all your friends a video from the moon... If you really want to blow all our money that way. Which is fine, if you want to. And don?t forget you?ll live longer anyway, so this isn?t wasted time.? ?Just a detour, a very very odd detour.? And Damn it, my voice did sound cute. ?Okay, but there might be a lot of freaking out involved in the meantime.? ?So what do you want to do today? I?m a little sick of movies.? ?I kind of want to hide out,? I said and plopped down on the bed. ?So no makeup lessons then I take it?? Sam asked and then cringed once she(?) saw me cringing. ?Okay I guess not. Well then honey, what would you feel comfortable doing?? ?Staying in the room and watching videos,? I grumbled. ?It?s only going to get worse.? ?I know, I know until I choose to make it better,? I said and Sam smiled at me. ?It's just I feel like a freak right now, you know not being one or the other.? ?That?s not too atypical in this town.? ?It?s still a little atypical, even here.? ?Yes it is,? Sam reluctantly concurred. ?So what is it that freaks can do without... being looked at funny.? ?I don?t know shop at goth stores?? I said sarcastically. ?I?m in if you are. There?s one in the mall you know.? Sam said without any sarcasm at all. ?To what, buy clothes that will fit us for a day?? ?Sure, why not? Freaks for a day, sounds fun.? ?Okay,? I sighed. And got dressed, and we headed down to the store in our sweats. There weren?t any male or female sections at the store, everything was just jumbled up, and I saw Sam watching me very closely as I passed by a skirt rack on my way over to a pile of pants. I ended up buying some really tight fitting camo cargo pants, a black and white button down sleeveless shirt, and a pair of 2 inch platform sneakers, which put me back taller than Sam, until she(?) Put on a pair of 3 inch platform boots matched to a pair of jean short shorts, over black leggings, and a sleeveless plaid red white and black shirt. I was at the counter paying when Sam came up behind me and placed a black leather band with metal studs around my neck. Then holding a handful of similar accessories, Sam said to the cashier, ?And these too please.? Then she(?) slipped a matching bracelet around my left wrist as I was paying for it. We moped around on the lower level most of the morning. At lunch time, Leslie walked right by us, first trying to avoid eye contact, before stopping suddenly, and turning around. ?Hey you two, I almost didn?t recognize you!? She seemed very amused. ?You both look like you?re having fun.? ?Just trying something new,? Sam boasted. ?Just for today,? I interjected. Leslie seemed to think to herself for a little while, ?Mind if I buy you two lunch? This is a little out of the norm so feel free to say no, but I think it might be good if I talked to you for a while.? ?Okay?? Sam said and turned to me for confirmation. ?Okay,? I said. She took us to a quiet pub on the upper level, it was high class and a few people gave us funny glances on the way to sit down, but our booth was dark, and off to the side, which afforded us some privacy. ?I?m just a little worried about you,? Leslie said looking straight at me. I didn?t say anything. She continued, ?I don?t know your situation, and you don?t need to tell me. It?s just that usually when people go through this, they?ve paid a lot of money to do it, and usually they are overjoyed at the change. But I?m not getting that vibe from you.? ?Mind if I tell her?? Sam asked. ?Go ahead.? I sighed. ?Adam?s doing this with me, to support me. I?m doing it for work.? Leslie raised an eyebrow, and Sam continued, ?I?m an actor. An old friend of mine a really famous director, Helen Cadwell?? ?I?ve heard of her.? ?Anyway, she really wants me for this part, it?s for a fantasy saga she?s doing, their filming all three parts at once. Anyway she was having trouble filling it with the right person. She kept thinking of a play she directed with me back in college, where I played a man, and she found herself comparing all the actors to that. It?s not the lead, just one of the bigger supporting roles. Well anyway, one night she got drunk, and called me up, and found out I lived in town. And that?s pretty much it.? ?That?s amazing, I?ve heard of it, but I've never met anyone before. So neither one of you really wants this? Is it a temporary arrangement?? ?That?s the plan," said Sam. ?Just for a year or so.? ?Okay,? said Leslie. ?Now I?m starting to get the picture, and Adam I take it, there?s no way you?d be doing this if it weren?t for Sam?? ?Nope.? I shrugged. ?That?s one hell of a man you?ve got there,? she said to Sam. ?Tell me about it,? Sam replied proudly. ?So you?re understandably a little embarrassed about...? ?Having my dick turn into a vagina, yes,? I brooded. ?Do you want to change your mind?? she asked. ?No, it?s not that. I know I should look at this as an adventure, but I?m having trouble getting excited.? ?Well, we?ll try and go easy on you then. But can I make a suggestion?? she waited for me to nod. ?Find something you?ve always wanted to do, something that only girls are allowed to do and focus on that.? ?Like what, drink free at bars?? I asked. ?Sounds like a good start to me. Anything else?? ?Okay, okay I got you,? I said. ?I guess I always thought hot women had a better time at comic book conventions, dressing up as heroes and stuff, not really wearing frilly dresses or anything like that though.? ?See, you might get through a year like that and have some fun after all.? ?True but you need to be a superhot chick to really have any fun.? ?Spoken like a true man,? Leslie smiled. ?Have you even seen your projections?? ?No why?? ?Just if you had, I don?t think you?d be worried. They?re the reason it took me a while to figure out you didn?t want this.? I found myself smiling a little. ?But there is other stuff too. You know, the thought of being so little, so vulnerable, not being taken seriously...? ?Well no girl really likes that. At least not all the time,? Sam interjected laughing. ?You know you sound like a feminist.? ?I guess so,? I said. ?Oh, I?ve just had an idea.? This time Leslie interjected, ?Sorry to bring up the makeup lessons again, but we do have one stylist... style consultant really, we had to stop using her because she?s a bit of a... well feminist would be the nice way to put it, she?s not a man hater or anything, just usually when someone is becoming a girl, they want to learn from someone as girlie as possible. But I think you might feel more comfortable with her. I could book an appointment for you?? ?Okay.? I nodded not really sure what to think. We finished lunch, and Sam and I spent the rest of the day brooding around dark corners of the mall, and other goth things. Before we went to sleep for the next treatment, Sam asked me, ?Have you thought about a name yet?? ?What?s wrong with Adam?? ?You really want to use your real name for the next year? What if your friends find out?? ?Good point.? * * * Day 4 I woke up feeling okay about the situation for the first time. As usual, Sam was still asleep. Her? now his, face seemed boyishly handsome, though still perhaps a bit too feminine despite the gray complexion where his beard was starting to come in. Thinking about Sam as a ?he? seemed very odd, until an even more odd thought struck me, was I a ?she?? Again I crept out of bed and into the bathroom, and looked down my pants. My testicles had completely withdrawn inside my body, and my scrotal sack was pulled tight around either side of my penis, which now seemed to reside inside me. Then about the time I noticed it felt good, really good to touch myself down there I heard Sam getting up in the other room. I quickly pulled a towel around my waist. When he entered I didn?t even need to stand next to him, I could see he was clearly taller than me by at least two inches. His shoulders were wider too, and boyish if not mannish. His chest looked well-toned, if not still just a little soft. Samantha?s eyes were still there, staring at me from Sam?s face. That gave me comfort, though I was intimidated by his very obvious erection. ?Is this what they mean by morning wood?? he asked in a youthful male voice, smirking. ?Yeah, now get that thing away from me,? I said in an obviously female voice. ?What?s so funny?? ?Your voice changed.? ?So did yours.? ?Sorry sweety.? ?Don?t call me sweety.? ?What should I call you then? Eve?..? I cringed ?No, not that. Anything but that. Just a second.? I held up a finger and went to go look at myself in the mirror. I sensed he was going to say something stupid again, so I shushed him before he said it. The first thing I noticed was my hair: I only had one hairline and it was lower and thicker than ever, with a small widow?s peak. The hair itself, was shaggy and longer, and touched the bottom of my neck from behind. The second thing I noticed were my boobs. They weren?t large, but they were definitely there, and my nipples looked darker, the areolas slightly larger. My face looked cute. My nose was shorter, smaller, tighter, and level where it had angled slightly downward before. My lips were full and dark. Though my face did maintain a certain sharpness to it, as my brow still protruded and my chin jutted, just enough to make me look somewhat intimidating. ?Could be a lot worse,? I said. ?I guess I?m happy I don?t look like a little girl.? ?Your features are quite striking,? he said, ?and I don?t think they?ll change too much tomorrow. The bone structure is more or less in place. Just some of the soft tissue has to catch up.? I raised an eyebrow to him. ?You did a lot of reading about this didn?t you.? I noticed his morning wood wasn?t in any danger of going away anytime soon. ?How do I look?? Sam asked. ?Boyish, maybe a little mannish. You look good.? ?So do you, you look really really good.? His pants jerked around a little when he said this. ?Down Sam! Bad Sam!? I was trying to make a joke, but the look in his eye seemed even more intense. ?Look Sam, you?re going to need to learn to control yourself. Because I?m not quite ready for that.? Sam tried to make Samantha?s cute pouty face, but failed, ?That face doesn?t work for you anymore. It just makes you look like an asshole.? He got worried. I could see it in Samantha?s eyes. He was kind of cute in a way, but I was not ready for ?him? not yet anyway. ?Do you think you?d be ready for it... soon?? he asked timidly. ?No, but I am feeling a bit better about things in general today.? ?I just have this strange feeling...? ?What sort of feeling?? ?I just feel like, and I?m only saying this to be honest, but I really feel like you mean yes, even when you say no.? He didn?t say this in an aggressive manner; he seemed apologetic as soon as the words crossed his lips. ?Sam, you?re thinking with your dick.? ?So that?s what they mean by that.? He was now clearly embarrassed. ?I just got it this morning, want to see?? ?No, that?s okay. Like I said I don?t think I?m quite ready for that. Look, Sam, don?t take this the wrong way, but maybe we should split up... err each do our thing... just for this morning.? ?What?s wrong?? ?Nothing, you know I?m an introvert, I do my best thinking by myself.? I showered, dressed, and left the room while Sam was in the shower. They had said no heavy exercise, but when I passed an empty gym in my sweats, I couldn?t resist getting on a treadmill, just for a minute. My hips were narrow by girl standards, but they moved differently, they rolled more as I jogged. And my breasts bounced up and down. I watched myself in the mirror, thinking it odd that I wasn?t getting aroused by any of this, when I almost tripped over a shoe. My feet were now small enough so my old sneakers looked ridiculous on them, no matter how tight I pulled the laces. I approached the mirror, until my face was just inches away from the one reflected. I stuck my tongue out at her, and she at me. Then I made an angry face, then a sad face, and a happy face. I might have spent all morning making faces at the mirror, if I hadn?t gotten a text: ?The stylist is here. Do you have time to come by? (third floor salon) -Leslie? I was about to text her back, when I realized the salon was just a few corridors away. I got there before I had a chance to think about it enough to chicken out. She took a look at me and asked in a friendly voice, ?Are you my appointment? I don?t have a name.? Karen was a tall light skinned black woman, her hair was long and had been straightened and pulled back into a pony tail. She was beautiful though her mouth maybe looked just a little too big for her face, and she was dressed entirely in black, clean and neat and very professional. ?Yeah well neither do I.? ?There?s something odd going on here isn?t there?? ?You worked for cosmetic rejuvenation clients before? You know what it is?? ?Of course.? Her eyes got wide, just for a second. ?Oh I see... So are you... I mean did you used to be..." she asked in a hushed voice. Suddenly I felt very embarrassed. I wanted to just spit it out, to level with her, but I couldn?t. And then she seemed very embarrassed herself. She kept her composure, but I could see she was taken aback. ?My name?s Adam,? I finally managed to say. ?Sorry,? she said, ?it?s just that I had a bad experience once.? ?What kind of bad experience?? ?Well I suppose Leslie wouldn?t have called me, if she thought there was any chance..." She stepped into the corner and motioned me over. ?I went off on a transsexual client once,? she spoke carefully, ?she more or less wanted to be... well a stereotypical girl from the last century. A second class citizen, to put it nicely.? ?Oh. I see,? I said. ?So what?s your situation?? ?Okay, well my wife got a really good job offer. A once in a lifetime sort of thing. But... she?s got to be a man, for a year or so. She?s an actress. I?m a writer, so this,? I said motioning to my body, ?doesn?t really matter so much.? ?That?s cool." She seemed impressed and relieved. ?So you did it too support her?? ?Yeah, I guess so. It?s only for a little while anyway.? ?That?s still pretty cool. So I take it you haven?t given it much thought?? ?None at all.? ?You look good, really good.? ?Thanks.? ?Okay then so, should I keep it simple, or do you want to learn about everything?? I mulled it over for a second. ?I guess learn about everything.? * * * I checked and double checked the message on my phone: ?Please meet me for dinner tonight, I want to make it up to you. 6pm at the pub -S? I was alone in the elevator, its mirrored doors holding my reflection. Red dress, check; red lipstick, check; hair done, check; still had... my purse, check; and my shoes were not yet killing my feet. I smiled to myself sarcastically, what had I done? Between the makeup on my face, and the breeze between my legs, I felt like a half-naked clown. Wearing a dress in public felt a lot like, wearing my underwear at home, only with everyone watching. And I couldn?t get over how small I felt. I?d checked, I was 5?7? now, still a little tall for a girl, but the whole world seemed bigger. I saw Sam waiting outside the restaurant, facing the other direction and staring off into space. He looked nice, he was wearing a blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and gray casual pants. And while I was walking toward him, he glanced down at his phone nervously. I was twenty minutes late. I got right up on him without him seeing me. He seemed so strange, his body looked like it belonged to some long lost brother of Samantha, but the way he held his head, the way he gazed nervously off into nothing, reminded me of the other night, waiting in our apartment. ?Don?t turn around just yet,? I said softly. ?Okay,? he said, paused for a few seconds and then spoke again, ?Why not?? ?It?s just I didn?t have time to get ready. I look like a mess. I?m still in sweats.? ?It?s okay,? he said keeping his back turned. ?I get that this has been harder on you than on me. Not that it hasn?t been hard on me.? ?What?s the hardest part?? ?I don?t know, so far it?s a toss-up between getting used to peeing standing up, and seeing you with a different face. And now your voice is different too.? ?Yours is too Sam, though just then it seemed familiar. Maybe not like the old Sam, but have you ever just met someone and realized you were going to be lifelong?...? I stopped myself from saying friends. ?I think I know what you mean. If you?re not ready, we could just go down and eat in the food court instead.? ?Okay,? I said, ?sounds good, you can turn around now.? When he did, he blushed and his eyes lit up. He offered me his arm, and I followed him into the restaurant. Day 5 I woke up again before Sam, and found myself staring at his face. It looked firmer, chiseled, with fine features and a thick coat of dark blonde stubble. His arms and chest now seemed strong and equally hairy, though it didn?t bother me so much. I slipped out of bed and entered the bathroom, this time not turning on the light, so as not to wake him. My breasts were bigger, still not big, but they had a nice shape to them, and I noticed my torso would have looked ridiculously thin without them. My face didn?t look any cuter then it did yesterday, if anything it looked more mature, stronger, though equally as feminine. I paused for a moment, before really examining what was between my legs. When I was done I slipped back into bed, and waited for the morning light to awaken Sam. I could see his eyes move under his lids. Samantha had this peculiar way of waking up, without opening her eyes, and now Sam did to. ?Were you dreaming?? I asked. ?Yes. I think so. I kept dreaming about waking up today. This is the third time.? ?How do you know you?re not still dreaming?? ?Something seems different,? he said softly. ?Different good or different bad?? ?You?re here, so different good.? I moved closer until our torsos brushed. He stretched on arm out, put it around me, and I drifted back to sleep. First posted on Fictionmania. If you enjoyed the story please leave a review or comment. [email protected]