The Determined Man, Part 4 free porn video

So here we have part 4 of the Determined Man. From this point on the story starts getting a bit more exciting, so I'm afraid that's also the end of my short accompanying stories for now. Hope you enjoy the story! The Determined Man Part 4 - Chapter 7 Reality in SSR airport, near Port Louis, Mauritius, was dense. Hot and dense. And inescapable. Life was writ large on the faces of the airport's myriad fleeting inhabitants. Excitement and discovery sparkled in the wide eyes of a boy of about eight years of age, perhaps on his first trip outside of the land of his birth. Urgency and determination coiled into the forehead of a middle aged father, intent on completing a journey of more than 15 hours by reaching the top-of-the-range holiday villa that represented the twelve days of the year into which it was imperative that he would pack enough hard-core relaxation to revitalise him enough to enable him to complete the upcoming twelve months of work that was required in order to save enough money for next year's twelve day break. Sadness, but ultimately a sense of coming-of-age was grasped tightly between the entwined hands of a teenage couple about to depart for home and bid farewell forever to their first holiday romance. In this galaxy of people and emotions, William felt like a black hole. Denser and more intense than anything else around it, and yet somehow, in essence, a space, a hole, a void, unable to interact with normal reality in any rational way. He speculated on the scientific theory that new universes explode from such phenomena. At present he was inert; a tiny dark speck of emotion held in suspension by elemental mental forces, but it would take only the slightest disturbance to unleash the chaos inside. Every chance glance in his direction, every current and eddy in the human climate swirling around him felt liable to precipitate a calamitous breakdown from his precariously balanced state. He had arrived outside S---- Hotel at 8:42 PM, eighteen minutes before the time instructed by the note. He worried that if he arrived early, then whatever was being prepared for him might not yet have been delivered to the small locked metal safety deposit box. He thought about getting a coffee while he waited, but the prospect made him feel nautious. In the end he simply stood, just around the corner from the safety deposit boxes, and waited, watching the digital display on his mobile phone slowly evolve towards 9.00. At 9.02 he held in his hand a single one-way ticket to Mauritius. By 10.00 he was sitting on a plane, mercifully finding the neighbouring seat occupied by the silently sleeping form of a slightly gaunt middle-aged woman. With a twelve hour flight and three hours time difference, the flight got into the airport at around 1.00 in the afternoon and now William Cresswell had been sitting on a chair in a waiting area for over 40 minutes. "Mr Cresswell" William turned towards the voice and found himself looking at a fundamentally unremarkable man of about 35 years old, sitting in the chair next to him, seemingly paying him no attention at all. He wore cheap but new looking jeans and well worn trainers. At first glance the man looked slightly overweight and like he didn't care much about his appearance. It was only on closer inspection that it could be seen that his thicker than average waist was more than matched by an impressively strong chest and arms somewhat hidden to the casual observer by his baggy and formless clothes. The man gave no further acknowledgement, continuing to casually look around at the busyness of the airport, and William hesitated. Had this man just said his name? Did he hear it right? The seat next to the man was unoccupied, and next to that sat an elderly Japanese couple, quietly conversing over a map. It must have been this man, though he seemed utterly impartial to how William might respond. Eventually William gathered enough courage to reply. "Yes" "I am to take you to the Ostara facility. If you would follow me please." Without further comment or hesitation, the unremarkable man stood and walked towards the exit, apparently unconcerned by the prospect of leaving William sitting there. William hesitated for a moment, but soon followed closely behind. There followed a long walk at a brisk pace, which the man appeared to maintain effortlessly, but which left William, (despite him having applied his typical resolve to keep himself in decent shape) slightly out of breath. Eventually William found himself in a full but distant part of the airport car park. It seemed that their walk had been timed to avoid any flurry of activity caused by an arrival, and the car park was almost deserted. In a futile, almost pathetic, resurgence of diligence, William scanned the area and spotted a single, broken looking security camera. He was not surprised to be presented once again with a familiar blindfold and once again he submitted to the elimination of the sense upon which he relied the most. With a very strong hand on his back guiding him, he didn't see which car they now headed towards and the interior seat felt like any other. This time he knew better than to try to talk to the driver. The car engine was smooth and powerful sounding. The air conditioning in the car was perfectly balanced. The journey this time was shorter, and not long after entering the car he was once again led inside a building. His footsteps echoed on the hard floor as they moved through several corridors and more than once he stumbled at a ridge over a doorway or when traversing a short set of steps. Each time the strong hand gripped him and stopped him from falling. At one point, after being rescued from a fall once again, he instinctively murmered his thanks. It failed to elicit a response. Eventually they crossed another threshold and he noticed that the echoes of his footsteps became more pronounced, like the room was a little larger. A steel-like hand on his chest indicated that he was to stop and he complied. The heavy footsteps of his guide receded. Still blind, he heard two lighter, but sharper, clicking footsteps and then blinked hard as the blindfold was finally removed and harsh electric light flooded his vision. "Mr Cresswell" The voice was not a question. Nor was it a welcome. It simply stated his name. He blinked hard a second time and shielded his eyes from the light. "Mr Cresswell. I am your doctor for today." William did not recognise the voice but identified female and clean upper-class English tones. His gradually adjusting eyes slowly brought into focus the sight of a hand being extended in his direction. He realised that he had somehow become so used to simply following instructions that he was taken aback by this simple invitation. With a slight tremor in his own fingers he took a hold of the offered hand to reciprocate the greeting. The hand was small, soft, almost fragile feeling in his own large hand and yet he knew that it wasn't he who had the advantage. He looked up to see its owner and discovered a slender woman. Her age was hard to assess as she was wearing a green surgical mask. "I will be guiding you through the procedure." All William could do was nod. The doctor gestured to her left and William turned towards what he now saw was a rather standard looking treatment table, of the kind you'd see in any general doctor's consultation room. It even had a roll of green textured paper rolled out along its length. The absolute normality of the object, it's fundamental realness, somehow unnerved William all the greater. "If you'd just take a seat Mr Cresswell then we'll begin." William's heart was now beating at double speed. This was it. He was about to live out his fantasy. Become a real woman. To have breasts; to have elegant curves; to be the object of beauty; to be viewed and desired. In a trance he moved, step by step, to the table and sat down on the roll of paper, feeling the rough, and very real, surface beneath his hands. "I will explain the events that will happen today. I will shortly initiate the procedure, you will have twenty minutes to recuperate and will then be met by two former patients who will help you to acclimatise. The company provides one week's accommodation and a new identity which will be given to you on your follow up session in two days time." William stared blankly at the doctor. Surprising himself, he managed to form a coherent question. "Do I have any choice over the new identity?" The doctor looked at him in silence for a couple of seconds, perhaps assessing what level of response was necessary for this particular questioner. "Within reason. Unfortunately, our identity services are limited to history and activities up to the age of 18. We can create school records etc, but the cost of creating verifiable university and work records are prohibitive." William nodded blankly. He supposed that if he wanted to continue his accountancy career he'd have to go through university and work his way up again. At least with the knowledge he had, it should be pretty easy to get top marks. "The identity will also fit the chosen form of your body. There are a wide range of ethnicities represented on the island, enabling us to provide our clients with a full range of choices for their own specifications without raising suspicions. We are also able to arrange immigration papers to countries in Africa, Asia, Europe and the US, enabling our clients to establish their new lives in the place of their choosing." The doctor continued, raising a tablet computer in her hand "In a moment I'm going to program in your preferred specifications. Height, general build, breast size, hair and eye colour etc. We can set general parameters, but unfortunately at this stage in our development, the precise details of appearance are not 100% accurately within our control. The nannites always do a very good job, creating a completely natural look, but precise results do vary from client to client." William nodded almost imperceptibly. "Good. We can also provide for a general intelligence boost, but unfortunately we cannot yet confidently program in specific skill sets. After we've set specifications I will administer the nannites. We have a rather neat development process here, involving embedding of the nannites within fabric that encloses your whole body, which allows for a very smooth, even experience. The transformation will take around two to five minutes." "But the demonstration used an injection" protested William, suddenly fearful of being entirely wrapped up in fabric. For some reason this small detail seemed a step too far. "An injection is possible for a localised, temporary transformation" the doctor replied "but for a full-body permanent transformation we need a different delivery method. Believe me" she said with extra seriousness in her voice "We've come a very long way from where we were. We used to have injections, transfusions, gasses, any number of things. We're working on even more comfortable, more palatable delivery methods, but this is the best we've got so far." "After the transformation is complete, we shall be providing you with a period of about twenty minutes to recuperate in our observation room." William was beginning to panic inside, but he was completely compromised already, and his mental state was such that he wouldn't have been able to formulate a protest in any event. All that he could think of was Harriet. Images of her face filed through his mind, in every expression; smiling, confused; thinking; the look of pure love that ordered her features the day they were married. With each new image, a wave of shame washed over him, whirling up a strange and conflicted storm along with his growing anticipation and excitement. "So, if that's all clear, we can begin with the specifications." The doctor sat down next to William on the table and showed him the screen of the tablet. On it was what looked like a line drawing of a female form. Next to that were various boxes and slide gauges. He could see that he could determine age, ethnicity, hair and eye colour, height, general build and breast size. He figured that the last measure was presumably a response to high demand for control over this element. He also saw that there was a gauge for altering intelligence. In his dreams William would often imagine himself to be an ultra-feminine woman, with exaggerated curves and assets. On the flight over he had speculated over what level of control he might have and had thought hard about what choices he would make. Even though the idea of being a buxom sex bomb turned him on, he also knew that in truth he wanted to be treated seriously and to progress in his chosen professional field. On the plane he had therefore resolved that, if given the choice, he would want to be beautiful and feminine, but also elegant and demure, quite tall and pleasingly slim. He reached out towards the tablet computer. For a moment his finger hovered, hesitating over the top end of the breast size gauge, images running through his mind of looking down at full curving globes rising like ocean swells from his chest. He resisted however, and soon programmed in the specifications according to his earlier resolutions. Even so, he couldn't resist specifying light blonde hair and bright blue eyes. So long as the rest of the specifications were implemented, there was nothing wrong with improving on his own mousey colouring. Given Ostara's limited ability to create qualifications and work history, he decided he'd like as much time as possible to progress his career himself and selected an age of 18. He hadn't anticipated the opportunity to affect his intelligence, but this had always been the measure of a person that he valued the most. He was surprised then that he felt strangely drawn to the lower end of the spectrum. William rarely acknowledged it to himself but if he was honest most of his fantasies didn't involve him using his mind much. Nevertheless, this was reality and that was a different matter. Defiantly, he moved the slider up to the maximum. "Excellent" pronounced the doctor once he was done. "Now, I'll just export these specifications to the nannites in the transformation garment......there, done..... and we are ready to begin." She opened a compartment underneath the treatment table and pulled out a single piece of thin, slightly metallic, white fabric and placed it on the table next to William. "Now Mr Cresswell, if you could just change into the garment then we'll be ready to begin." William found that his eyes were locked onto the garment, in awe of its potential. It was so thin, quite unsubstantial, and yet had the power, at least from his perspective, to change the entire world. The doctor was apparently not surprised by his reaction and waited patiently. He managed to tear his eyes away for a brief moment to look again at the doctor. She simply nodded again in the direction of the garment. It took all of William's strength to overcome the paralysis of his conflicting emotions and begin to move, starting by taking hold of his T- shirt and raising it over his arms. He looked down one last time at his rather average body. There was a time where he had made a firm resolve to improve his fitness, and he had made some good headway, but more recently, work and other thoughts had taken precedence, and his body had retreated towards a still slightly toned, but also slightly overweight shape. He glanced up at the doctor and saw that she was looking directly at him, apparently making no adjustments for privacy. He grimaced slightly at this intrusion, but continued to undress, removing his shoes, socks, trousers, and eventually removing his boxer shorts to leave himself completely naked. The doctor remained entirely impassive, and didn't even look him up and down, her gaze remaining fixed on his face. Somehow this calm disinterest in his body unsettled William more than if she had scrutinised his every flaw. He felt like a test subject, a number, raw material to be manipulated. Gingerly, William took hold of the garment and found that it was in one piece with a zip all the way up the back, ending at the base of a section designed to cover the whole head. He eased his legs and lower half inside, the fabric feeling cold and smooth as it stretched slightly over his thighs. Next he inserted his arms into the sleeves, finding space for his fingers at the end of each. "You will find that it fits perfectly" said the doctor "It has been made to measure for you. The nannites will also adjust it's size so that it remains a good fit throughout the transformation" Legs and arms now sheathed in the flimsy metallic fabric, William figured that the next stage was to cover his head, and he hesitated at the thought. Even in his current vulnerable situation, deep in a facility of unknown location, without any means of defence or communication, and with his bare back exposed to the cool air like a patient in a hospital gown, somehow covering his face felt like a step too far. He looked to the doctor and she simply looked back. She didn't stare; she didn't harden her face; she simply looked back at him. Apparently she wasn't about to make any decision for him either. William stood motionless and silent for maybe a minute, trying to figure out any other course of action. There was none. Finally, he slipped his head up inside the fabric. With his sight obscured he once again was reliant on his ears as he registered the doctor now walk around behind him. She took hold of the zip at the base of his back and tugged the garment snug around his crotch and bottom, creating a tightening feeling in his delicate areas reminiscent of his childhood bullying. He half expected her to pull it back down and point humiliatingly at his equipment, but instead she now slowly zipped up the garment, sealing William inside. Now in darkness, William felt a hand on his shoulder guiding him backwards onto the treatment table and then down so that he found himself lying on his back. His heart was pounding harder and faster than after any gym session and his mouth was dry as sandpaper. ?OK, this is it? came the voice of the doctor from the other side of William's fabric prison. ?It may hurt a little and it will feel strange and uncomfortable. Try to remain still as much as possible? -------------------------------------- Fucking. Is there really anything else? If you include variants of fucking; sucking cocks, cunnilingus, hand jobs, titty-wanks, anal penetration, masturbation, nipple sucking, bondage, sado-masochism, then it's pretty hard to make an argument for anything else in life being worthy of mention. If you go even further and include everything that exists purely only in relation to fucking; kissing, tight dresses, corsets, bras, panties, bikinis, stockings, high heels, body piercing, tattoos, stripping, lap dancing, actually pretty much any dancing, pretty much any music for that matter, then the case is overwhelming. And so, it makes perfect sense that I feel absolutely no shame that everything that I am is sex. I am made for sex. To tease, to seduce, to whip men into a frenzy (both figuratively and literally), to touch men, to be touched by men, to be filled by men; Oh, yes, I am made for fucking! I feel no shame. I love it when I notice a guy checking me out in a club, or gazing at me as I walk down the street. If they call me a slut then I'm just delighted, because in my estimation there is no greater thing to be. If they tut and shake their head, then what do I care? They're probably just not the sort of person who would want to fuck me in the first place, and as I said, fucking is all that matters, so why care about what the thoughts of someone who doesn't want to fuck me? And I see no reason to add any unnecessary layers between myself and all that is sexual. My clothes' function is to draw attention to my sexual body, not cover it up. I wear sky-high heels to thrust my juicy arse upwards and outwards. I wear fishnet stockings so that you can imagine hooking your fingers between them and ripping them off my body. I wear a tight corset to push up my tits and sinch in my waist to make my hips look even more womanly. All for men. All for sex. All for you. Well, I say ?you?. If you're lucky, catch me at the right time, then it most certainly could be you. Of course I make sure to fuck the very best, but there's pleasure to be had in every fuck and I have no reason to limit myself. But there are other times. Times when HE calls and then I drop everything and come running, crawling, wriggling to HIM. I've missed out on a lot of good fucks to answer HIS call, but then that is no price at all to pay in order to be there with HIM. To answer HIM. To be HIS. Oh! To be fucked by HIM! It is a small price to pay to be me. Because of course, HE is the one who made me who I am. Who made me sex. Took away my silly, residual inhibitions, gave full life to fantasies I hadn't even yet accepted and bestowed upon me this desire. The man who made me a woman. -------------------------------------- Chapter 8 For a few seconds it seemed like nothing was happening and William lay there listening only to the sound of his laboured breathing. Then, all at once, the suit tightened, clinging hard to every inch of his skin. Instinctively he reached towards his leg and tried to take a hold of the fabric to pull it away, but the fabric was too tight and smooth and his fingers wrestled futilely at the surface, unable to gather anything at all in their grip. William now felt a fizzing and tingling experience, starting from his skin and then travelling quickly inwards in a single powerful wave. Lying prone on the table, William could feel his insides buzzing. More specifically, he swiftly came to realise that the buzzing was in his bones, the nannites seemingly establishing base camp while assessing the task at hand. William was deeply helpless, at the mercy of the powerful forces within him that might, nay, would, be unleashed at any moment, at a time of their own choosing. There was no way back. The next stage came more slowly than the last. The buzzing became more intense and William could feel himself begin to change from the inside. His felt pressure in his chest as his ribcage closed tight, too tight, around his lungs, bone blinking out of existence cell by cell at the periphery of his ribs and rematerialising closer in to the centre of his body. He brought his encased hands to his chest and could feel his body contracting under his touch. At the same time, his skull was also changing, becoming smaller and compressing his brain. His tongue felt huge within his new jaw. His mind was unable to take in all of these changes at once, and switched attention frantically between each point of transformation. For a moment, all he could think of was the shrinking of his nose, and then he became aware that his lower gut and groin somehow felt stretched, pulled by ligaments attached to his undeniably widening pelvis. William was in intense discomfort, his new skeleton pressing upon his organs and compressing everything into a smaller space. He began to panic, fearing that something had gone wrong, but he felt a firm hand squeeze his shoulder in reassurance. His bones finally settled into their new form, and after a couple of seconds break, he felt the extraordinary sensation of the nannites diffuse out into his body. They spread out to every extremity before once again rushing back like the tide. He felt them take up position in specific parts of his body, mostly around the core of his torso, and also inside his skull. For a moment he thought he could hear thoughts in his head. Super-fast, ordered signals like flashes of light which he couldn't quite grasp. William was deeply confused as he began to feel his mind stimulated; compelled to do mathematical problems in his head like his brain was being tested, or being used by some outside force. He felt like a zombie computer, hijacked by a virus for a distant hacker's nefarious causes. 326 multipled by 27, the square root of 169. He had always been good with numbers, but somehow now he was finding logorithms and solutions to complex geometry in milliseconds. After a time, (he couldn't discern whether it was minutes or less than a second), the heightened brain activity began to subside and William was able to wrestle back control of his thoughts. He immediately noticed that the discomfort was lessened, even if not yet gone. His brain now only suffered a dull ache and his lungs seemed to fit within his chest, allowing him to breathe in and out normally. The nannites must have transformed his vital organs, he reasoned with his new, clear-thinking mind. But still he felt all wrong. His vital bodily functions appeared to be working, but he felt weak, like his strength was somehow distanced from him. With each instruction he gave his body, he was met with resistance and it seemed within each split-second delay that the resistance might be absolute; final; that perhaps his leg or finger might decide to do not comply, or perhaps might even follow orders from some other, mysterious, source. Once again, he felt the tingling spread over his body. Slower this time, more precise. His muscles began to tighten and shrink; Flexing and spasming before settling into a new position. He could feel now that his arms and legs felt slimmer and more delicate. Even his fingers seemed longer than they had before. The changing of William's muscles felt almost like a massage and he began to feel relaxed and almost content. It was happening. He was becoming something new, something he had always wanted. Feminine; female; a woman. And now, with the foundations laid, the defining edifices of femininity could begin to be built. William experienced a gathering of sensation in his testicles and penis, causing it to become stimulated and erect. Locked inside his cocoon William draw a sharp intake of breath. This was it. It began inside his testes. Each one of the billions of sperm contained there was overwhelmed by the process and seemingly just flipped out of existence, eliminating William's potency as a man. In no time, William was devoid of the power to impregnate any woman. But there was gain as well as loss. Some of those same cells, all containing a precious X chromosome, were selected for a new, and even more extraordinary role. The nannites were both diligent and elegant in their task. They built up these cells; equipped them for a new purpose. Soon William's testes were home to hundreds of fertile eggs, each ripe for piercing with male seed from whichever strong man managed to reach them, and capable of growing to become children; little girls and boys for their mother to cherish and nurture. William of course was unaware of this extraordinary change in his status from potential inseminator to future inseminated, but he was fully sentient to what happened next. The skin between his legs grew taut and then began to part. He could feel himself ripping like scored paper, a new orifice opening up in anticipation of penetration. Next he felt the ball sacks beneath his dick begin to move downwards between his legs, splitting out to follow the contours of his new slit. With consecutive little pulses each sack expelled it's load of eggs, sending newly formed ovaries on a journey up through William's new womanly pelvis to come to rest in their new positions by each hip. The remaining skin on either side of his slit now moulded and settled into lips, both delicate and full at the same time. They were unequivocally those of a fully developed woman, but they were neat, young and unsullied nevertheless. All that remained of William's former equipment was now the shaft itself, and it was not long for this world. Just like his mind had gone into overdrive as it was transformed, so now did William's member. It throbbed and jerked as the nannites went to work, trimming away all that unnecessary excess that had been needed to deliver William's former seed, and packing all of the sensitivity into a new smaller space. William gasped as it shrank quickly into a perfectly formed clit, settling into place at the top of his new vagina, in the perfect spot for stimulation by a skilled man's attentions, ready to transmit the signals to his cunt to open and release lubrication, readying his pussy for fucking. Inside his fabric prison, William's mind was in shock. He now had a vagina. He was essentially female. Hi fantasies had become reality and his heart raced at the thought. But function without form is insufficient, and William could tell that his transformation was far from complete. While he had the core of a woman, the soft tissue and skin of his former incarnation was still present, flopping around without shape or purpose. Soon though, it began to change. He marvelled at where the extra mass was disappearing to as he felt his skin, still seemingly welded to the suit, recede back towards his new bone and muscle structure. The first things he noticed were his fingers and hands. It had felt like wearing gloves filled with jelly, but now he could feel each individual digit, long and slender, within the suit. He even believed that he could sense nails protruding half an inch from the end of each. Soon after, he felt his arms and legs begin to take shape, his skin settling over a very thin layer of fat on his forearms, and a significantly thicker, but still elegantly curving shape at his thighs. He felt the tops of his legs brush together, and then took hold of one wrist, finding himself shocked by it's smallness. It felt almost fragile, and for a moment it dawned on him that he had chosen to become physically weak; That he was now dependent on the honour of those stronger than him to protect him from those who would seek to overpower him. Next to move into its final form was his face. He felt the skin settle over his new high cheekbones, and tighten under his jaw. His whole face felt sleeker, more defined than before. He was amazed by how small his nose felt and he was fascinated by the sensation of feeling his eyebrows move to a higher position than he was used to, and then begin to thin and curve in a most feminine way. The final piece of the puzzle was his lips, which seemed to gather up plumpness from all around the rest of his face. They grew slowly and every time he thought they would stop they just pulsed and expanded a little more. They felt like tiny little pillows pressed up against the fabric that enveloped him. When William's face stopped changing, he realised that everything else was also now almost entirely in place. He wiggled his toes and found that the movement came immediately. He ran his palms over his athletic but full thighs, then along the sides of a rounded but pert bottom that bulged outwards slightly as it rested on the table. He continued his explorations around his wide hips and then upwards, finding there a slim waist that felt alien in place of the thickish middle that he knew. But it all felt strange only for a second. Interrogating his feelings just below the surface he discovered with some surprise, that, in fact, it all felt right. Just as he had ordered. But it was more than that. It felt just as he had always imagined. Just as he had always known, somewhere deep inside. Except for one thing. Well, two things. His hands moved up from his flat little tummy and found a flat little chest. But the changes were not over. Beneath his hands he felt a small pressure. Just a very slight upwards sensation that made him gasp like an expectant mother feeling the first kick of her baby. Slowly, ever so slowly, his hands were pushed up, rising on twin swells of flesh. He moved his palms in little circles and felt his new budding breasts move with them. As he continued to gently massage them, the mounds grew further, taking on a soft rounded shape, and filling up his small hands. Soon though they came to a halt, each just larger than the confines of William's newly smaller grasp. This was what he had specified, and William managed to deny to himself that he felt a slight lack of fulfilment as the changes in his bosom came to an end. It was done. It had really happened. He was a woman. Even without seeing what he looked like he felt an unknown spring of happiness well up in his heart. Small, silent joy filtered throughout the fibre of his being. ?Everything seems in order Mr Cresswell? came the voice of the doctor. Not a moment had passed since the changes came to a halt. William was startled. Inside his suit he had forgotten that there was even anyone else in the room. He tried to respond but found that his words stuck in his throat. In lieu of the power of speech, he nodded. William felt hands take hold of his own and help him up into a sitting position. As he sat up he felt his new breasts move on his chest and automatically raised his hand to cup them. ?Yes, I know. It does feel very different doesn't it Mr Cresswell? These words confused William. Does that mean that the doctor too has been transformed? With his face still covered, William turned his head towards the sound. He still seemed unable to quite speak, though he did hear a soft questioning sound escape his lips. The doctor gave no response but reached around behind William and unzipped the headpiece. As she removed it, William again experienced the disorientation of being suddenly exposed to bright light. Again he blinked and shook his head. This time, as his vision returned, he thought something was wrong as it seemed obscured. He blinked again. On the third blink he identified the problem. He reached up to part the long blonde hair that was hanging in front of his eyes. Once he did so he saw that the doctor was again extending her hand, gesturing that he was to rise from the table. Carefully, William swivelled around and placed his feet on the ground. He expected to find himself weak, unstable, unable to walk. In fact, he was none of those things. His legs responded to his instructions and his muscles were easily strong enough to raise his new lighter frame to a standing position even if his new weight and balance did feel rather strange. ?Very good.? announced the doctor. ?Now, through that door to your left is a recuperation room. There is a mirror for you to examine yourself and a bed to lie down on. In around twenty minutes you will be joined by fellow transformees who will help you to acclimatise to your new life.? William looked to the door and then back again at the doctor. He wanted to ask her what she had meant. Whether she too had undergone the process. The doctor however seemed to have no further interest in William and her body language indicated that she was not intending to communicate any further. In the face of an expression that allowed for no possibility of change, William backed down and compliantly began to walk toward the door indicated.