Operation Bella
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The Operation, Chapters 1-5 free porn video
Fictionmaniacs: My first submission. I've been following Fictionmania
for years and thinking about putting a book together for years, although
not on this subject. If you have any constructive comments about
writing style or the story flow, I eagerly await them. The first part
will start out slowly, for those looking for a quick fix, you're better
off waiting for later chapters. I hope you enjoy. Kisses, Ellyssa.
Chapter One
Sitting at my desk, diligently plugging away at a spreadsheet analyzing
the impact of a change of services on my department's operations, I
began to feel more woozy. The report was due by the close of business
so I pressed on. When my stomach got upset, I rushed to the men's room
to come to my senses, splash some cold water on my face and take a short
break. Within a couple of minutes, I started to feel better and
returned to my desk to finish my work. I decided to finish this up,
send it to the VP, and take off for the day to get some rest. All I had
left to do was some quality control, check the formulas and the figures
inputted into the tables, simple enough stuff. It wouldn't take long.
I had finally worked my way to Director of the department, putting in
the long hours, making some smart moves, and treating the bosses right
but not shamelessly sucking up to them. Being a dedicated family man, I
sometimes came home late, to my wife, Theresa, and daughter, Alexi, but
burned the candle at both ends making the most of work and family time.
But we were happy and they understood the sacrifices made on their
behalf. We had a nice enough 2 story in the suburbs with good neighbors
and schools. Theresa and I met at my first job out of school, while I
was working full time and getting my MBA at evening school. We had a
whirlwind romance and married eight months after our first date. Our
beautiful daughter, Alexi, came along several years later and was now
off in college. We were well on our to a typical American dream upper
middle class lifestyle. No expensive imported cars or extravagant
vacations but happily satisfied with our place in the world.
I called Theresa to let her know I'd be home early and to prepare
something bland for me until I got over this bug. She expressed her
concern and attempted to get me to come home immediately but knew she
wasn't going to convince me to leave work until I met the deadline.
Talking to her made me feel better and I plowed back into my work.
At 9:30, things definitely took a turn for the worse. I spiked a fever
and started to get dizzy. Sweat suddenly poured from my forehead and I
took another quick break, reaching the restroom just in time to lose my
lunch in the stall. Cleaning up, I took about 10 minutes to compose
myself. Larry, the VP, entered the restroom and noticed that I didn't
look so hot.
"Jim, you don't look so good, you should take off and get some rest."
He encouraged me to go home. The boss was a good guy that way. I
mentioned the deadline and he extended it until 10 am tomorrow, hoping I
just needed some rest. I thanked him and packed up my laptop and left
for the day. I hoped I'd be able to finish after a nap.
Driving home, I felt progressively worse. When I pulled up, Theresa met
me with a cup of broth but immediately saw that this was nothing that
could be remedied with chicken soup. She called the doctor while I lied
down. He ran down the symptoms with her, telling her to look at my
tonsils, asking more questions, and finally having her probe my lower
abdomen. I screamed out in pain. It was almost certainly appendicitis.
Theresa packed me up for the hospital.
We arrived in the ER and they were waiting for us, apparently alerted to
the situation by my doctor. Quickly, vitals were taken, blood drawn,
and the usual 50 questions were asked. My general practitioner arrived
and reviewed the lab work and consulted with the nurse outside the room.
By this time, I was a complete mess. Any thought of the spreadsheet was
forgotten. Dr. Williamson came in and relayed the bad news, I was
headed for an appendectomy and just waiting on an open surgery suite.
As soon as the first operating room opened, I was destined for surgery.
Quick visits by anesthesiology, residents, ultrasound, radiology, and a
parade of other health professionals followed. A relatively minor
procedure and I'd be out of the hospital the next afternoon, minus a
troublesome vestigial organ, followed with rest orders and no work for a
week. Routine, except for the now excruciating pain that morphine was
doing very little to check. Surgery? The sooner the better.
Finally, surgery opened up and a team of personnel in green scrubs
worked on me in synchronized choreography, prepping the bed, my IV, and
me like a racing crew. I said goodbye to Theresa, she looked worried
sick but I managed a weak smile, momentarily more concerned about the
stress on her than my own situation. Another spasm of pain changed
that. The surgical team was racing against the swelling appendix.
Should it burst, bacteria and toxins would be released into my belly,
greatly complicating the case and endangering me. If caught before
rupture, an arthroscopic procedure is in order. After, opening up the
abdomen, full debridement, and courses of IV antibiotics are necessary.
The rush was on and I was wheeled out of the ER to the elevator bank by
some kid in transport.
The elevator dinged and I was rolled in. I remember the kid got a call
on his cellphone and he took it. Sounded like he had a hot date
tonight, great for him. I couldn't care less as long as he got me to my
destination. He nestled the phone on his shoulder and he pushed me into
OR, sliding me into the room. Just then, I felt a kind of release in my
abdomen and suddenly the pain peaked but then seemed to subside. I
mentioned this to the transporter kid but he just shrugged. In another
minute, I felt extremely nauseous then began puking in every direction,
like a loose fire hose. I instantly got very chilled and sweated
profusely and every alarm attached to me started shrieking. A doctor
hustled over, felt my abdomen and shouted, "Something's wrong! Surgery!
STAT!." The anesthesiologist told me everything would be better soon
and told me to start counting backwards from 10. I looked at his
worried face, knowing he had lied and tried to ask him what was going
on, but only got out two words before everything went black.
Chapter Two
Incredibly groggy, I slowly came to consciousness, then quickly my
stomach turned and I threw up to the side of the bed. Mostly a dry
heave, thankfully. I was barely aware of my surroundings until the pain
came from almost everywhere all at once. I moaned and rolled in
reaction, trying to move away from the pain seemingly coming from every
direction. I remembered the events leading to this and questioned why
my entire body hurt from my appendix. I figured the appendix must have
burst, leading to the more invasive surgery which would result in
greater pain. Just then, a nurse came in, having heard my struggles.
She quickly administered something to my IV and watched as I faded away
again.
I woke again at night, the pain again hitting me like a truck. This
time, I wondered where Theresa was and paged the nurse on the call
button. She entered the room and I opened my mouth to speak but
something was caught in my throat and I squeaked out something that
wasn't intelligible.
"I'm Mary, your nurse. There was a complication with your operation and
you're going to be fine, Mr. Meyer. I will get something for the pain
but you are under doctor's orders not to speak as it could damage your
vocal cords. I will get a whiteboard for you to communicate. OK?"
I nodded after this rapid stream of information but wondered about the
vocal cords, it must have been something with intubation. I raised my
hand and made the international hand symbol for a telephone.
Nurse Mary nodded, "I'm going to clean up your little accident and I'm
giving you another dose of pain medication which will put you out again,
I'll call your wife in when you're awake again."
Before passing out again, I noticed a crowd outside my room. Men and
women in suits, security, and doctors arguing. The pain began melting
away and I drifted back to the comfort of medically induced sleep.
Chapter Three
Coming to slowly, I dreamt of voices and discussions of my case which
slowly focused into reality. I opened my eyes slowly and they gradually
grasped their surroundings. As forms became objects, I groggily
assessed myself. The pain was still there, but no longer so severe that
it demanded all my attention. That was a good sign, I told myself. I
am recovering already. My face felt numb with the underlying throbbing
soreness and swelling. I had no idea why my face should hurt. The
mouth, throat and neck were all sore and that could be expected from a
rapidly performed intubation, but the face should be fine. My chest was
also aching, not to mention the worst pain emanating from my abdomen. I
found the call button in my hand and pressed it to signal that I was
awake and ready to see my wife. I then moved my right arm to try to
figure out what was up with my face and chest and realized I was
restrained. I was too weak to try the cuffs again but restraints are
for noncompliant or mental patients. The thought of what in the world
is happening here came to me. None of this is making sense but I was
too tired to try to attempt to make sense of it all.
A new nurse entered the room, it was dayshift and Mary must have gone
home. "Hi, my name is Terri and I'm your nurse. I know Mary told you
about talking."
I wiggled my arms.
"Mr. Meyer, you are in restraints because we have an issue with your
treatment. I'll have someone come in to speak to you about the concerns
shortly. Are you in much pain?"
I nodded.
"Is it better than yesterday?"
Nodding again, I also wanted to speak with, or see, Theresa. I made the
telephone gesture with my right hand.
"Mr. Meyer, I'll get your wife as soon as possible. Can we take care of
your pain needs? Where would you rate the pain, higher than a 5?"
My eyes grew wide, if only a 5, I thought.
"7?"
I looked up, damn this game. I need to speak or get the whiteboard. I
wiggled my hand in a writing movement.
"Mr. Meyer, I'm sorry but the restraints have to remain in place for
now, is your pain a 9?"
I nodded, giving up, annoyed but exhausted.
"I'll call Pharmacy for the meds, it shouldn't be long. Is there
anything else you need?"
My limited communications ability allowed me to make a tipping motion
with my hand.
"I can't allow you a drink either but can give you some ice chips if
your mouth is dry. The IV is keeping you hydrated."
OK, so I'm a prisoner! Where the hell is my wife? I made the writing
motion and Terri retrieved the whiteboard for me and eased the strap on
the restraint of my right hand. I scrawled, as best I could without
seeing, "Theresa NOW."
Terri said she'd be right back and wheeled out of the room. The small
crowd outside my ICU room remained and she was consulting with them in
the softest of whispers. They walked down the hall and out of hearing
range.
Something was definitely going on, something must have gone wrong and I
had no idea, Theresa wasn't allowed in, and the situation was far beyond
my control. My face was bandaged, and my chest. The appendix is in the
lower abdomen, what the fuck? Whatever happened was bad. I could feel
all my limbs, which was good, but what happened? I'm getting upset, my
heart monitor is getting more insistent and occasionally a deeper toned
bleep is going off, meaning either respirations or blood pressure.
Probably both. Struggling against the restraints, I quickly figure out
that I'm not getting anywhere and it only makes my chest and legs hurt
more. I'm going to have to ask what the hell is going on, no matter
what the consequences of a rough intubation on my vocal cords.
Terri re-entered the room with company and a syringe. She immediately
noticed that I was upset and as I inhaled to speak, she caught me.
"Mr. Meyer, please calm down. The hospital administrator, chaplain, and
attorney are here and we will tell you what we know about your
situation. I'm going to give you your pain meds after they talk with
you. First, I have to give you a sedative and anti-anxiety medication
as we don't want you to get overly upset."
My mind was racing now. Something definitely went wrong, way wrong in
surgery. It couldn't be infectious as they weren't taking precautions
beyond restraining me. Terri injected the IV port with two syringes.
She began killing time for the meds to take effect while the
administrator and the attorney stood nearly as far out of my sight as
they could in the small room.
Terri pointed to the others in the room, "Here are Brent Westin, the
hospital CEO, Father Michael, our chaplain, and Courtney Brockers, the
hospital's legal representative. They will tell you what we know so
far."
Legal and the CEO, but no doctor, whatever happened isn't a medical
issue. I moved for the whiteboard again.
Brent and Courtney stepped forward but Terri interjected before they
could speak. "Mr. Meyer, Theresa is fine but she was upset by this.
She will be allowed back when she demonstrates that she can remain calm.
With your medical condition, you need to remain rested, can we count on
you to remain calm?"
Theresa was always a bit excitable, a fiery redhead straight out of
central casting. I have always been the calm steadying influence and
since I've been unconscious, something set her off to the point that she
had to be removed from the situation. Not completely unsurprising but
still I wanted someone here for the bad news and she needed to know and
maybe needed to support me.
Father Michael took the lead and spoke first, with Courtney closely
monitoring his speech. It was immediately obvious that they were in the
deepest pile of shit of their careers. He opened with some humor,
"First, I'm not here to administer Last Rites."
I rolled my eyes.
"That is definitely not the issue and I'm here to provide support for
you and Theresa. I've already spoken to her and she is understandably
upset so she is downstairs waiting for us to call her. She is ok, but
has to show that she can stay calm and not upset the other patients or
threaten the staff again. We've talked and she has promised that she
can handle the situation now. Since your condition won't allow you to
help us keep her calm, we wanted to speak to you before allowing her
back in. Do you understand?"
OK, this is sounding worse and worse. I nodded, mentally preparing for
what Theresa couldn't handle.
Fr. Michael continued, "Great, now we can tell you the history of the
problem. Remember that I am here for support and if it gets too
difficult for you, tell us to stop."
I shook my head and Terri again served as interpreter. "Father, he is
under orders not to speak. Jim, if you make the cutting motion with
your hand, we'll stop, OK?"
I nodded again, dreading what was wrong with me. It's been unsaid for
three days now and upset Theresa to the point of hysteria. It has me in
restraints and has somehow damaged my face and chest, do I look like a
freak, will I have a normal life, what the hell happened?
Chapter Four
Brent Westin stepped forward while Fr. Michael held my hand. Courtney
Brockers moved across the bed, to be within the vision of the hospital
administrator as he spoke. "Mr. Meyer, I'm Brent Westin, CEO and
administrator of Memorial Hospital. I'm going to do everything I can to
correct this situation and we are investigating the circumstances and
will take punitive actions against those found responsible. We are
prepared to do anything we can do to make this better for you and we
will be revising our procedures to make sure this never happens again.
Are you with me so far?"
I nodded, this was really bad, they were admitting liability up front.
"Mr. Meyer, may I call you Jim?"
I nodded again and noticed Fr. Michael taking a firmer grip on my hand.
Oh boy, here it comes.
"Jim, Memorial Hospital is truly sorry for this mixup. When you were
wheeled in for emergency surgery, you were brought into the wrong
surgical suite by the transporter. Hospital staff should have noticed
this issue but unknown to that surgical team, your appendix had ruptured
and you were going into shock. They worked to fix the appendix but
failed to verify your identity prior to the procedure they were there
for. The procedures continued and were completed to the usual high
standards to which Memorial aspires, unfortunately on the wrong patient.
You are fully expected to have a complete recovery and the doctors
report that you are already progressing well."
Brent peeked over to Courtney, who nodded. The dam was about to break.
"The wrong procedure was performed on you, this was noticed before you
made it out of surgery and your appendectomy was performed without a
problem. So your original health issue is resolved. Now, the
procedures which were performed have already been reported to the state
and the regulatory bodies and we are under investigation. We are fully
cooperating with the investigation and will share those results with
you. The surgeons mistakenly performed multiple procedures, a
rhinoplasty, which is a nose job, and other plastic surgery procedures
on your face, chin, cheeks, Adam's apple, and chest. Your appearance
will be substantially different, do you understand me so far?"
It was disconcerting but I could tell more was coming. I felt kind of
out of it, the meds must be kicking in. This was starting to sound like
this was happening to another person and I guess I would be another
person, maybe younger since I was starting to show my 44 years. Hell,
this might be alright after all.
"Jim, I really appreciate you handling this well. I'm afraid there is
more bad news. Other procedures were also performed as well which will
affect more than your appearance and will probably be more difficult for
you to accept. I will explain those to you. An orchiectomy and
vaginoplasty were also performed, do you understand what these are?"
I had no idea, but my medicated state of acceptance was about to be
overwhelmed.
Leaning in, Brent said, "I'm going to explain this slowly and you can
stop me at any time. You will have every right to be angry but we don't
want you to hurt yourself, ok?"
I nodded, apprehension building.
"Jim, we are truly very sorry and will do everything we can to make this
right at our expense, do you understand?"
I rolled my eyes, waiting.
"An orchiectomy is a medical procedure which our doctor performed on you
accidentally. It involved the surgical removal of your testicles. Are
you alright?"
I reeled, how could this be possible, I lost my balls!
"What?" I barely croaked out before the pain in my throat alerted me not
to speak. Terri held a finger up to her mouth.
"Jim, if you and Theresa wanted more children, it won't be possible to
have your own genetic children. Did you want more kids?"
I shook my head no, I was 44, Alexi was in college and we were strapped
with tuition expenses anyway. This wouldn't be a problem but still, my
balls!
"There are appropriate therapies which can maintain your other secondary
male gender characteristics which don't involve anything more than
taking a testosterone pill daily. It is a relatively minor
inconvenience but something you can probably live with."
So this is why the legal team is here. I was upset but he was right, I
could live with this at my age. And the settlement might move me closer
to retirement but still, my balls.
I motioned for the whiteboard, then needed to know quicker. I made the
international sign for sex with my restrained hands.
"Yes, you will still be able to have sex. I'm not a doctor and of
course you won't need birth control but sex is still possible. Your
doctor will be able to explain the medical issues far better than me."
I relaxed a bit, this was upsetting but we should be able to live with
this. Then he dropped the bomb.
"The last procedure is probably going to be most difficult."
I forgot there was more.
"Jim, the vaginaplasty, do you know what that means?"
I pieced it together quickly. Plasty is a suffix for building, I
couldn't be as clinical about the prefix. My eyes grew wide and my
surgery on my throat would have shredded every stitch had I been able to
speak. The monitors started alarming and I struggled against my bonds.
"Jim! Please remain calm, you still have a lot of stitches and could
hurt yourself!"
I began thrashing in the bed, trying to get at them, to hurt them. It
wasn't possible, hospital errors happen all the time but not multiple
errors! Not like this! Not to me or my dick!!!
"What the hell did you..." My throat flared with pain but I hadn't
stopped speaking from pain. It was very different, raspy from the
operation but higher pitched. My balls, my dick, my voice!
I whispered in as sinister and threatening a tone as I could, "What did
you do?"
"Jim please try to control yourself. We understand you're upset." Fr.
Michael tried to console me but no one could say anything to help.
Brent continued, "The procedures performed are all for gender
reassignment surgery. You have been effectively changed into a woman.
We can operate change things back and we will do that at our expense
with significant compensation for your pain and suffering, even Theresa
has a claim against the hospital and we want to make it right.
Unfortunately, the doctors tell me that some things won't be normal
again."
"Like how, asshole?" the voice rasped in a high tone.
"I understand you're upset, we can't reconstruct a fully functioning and
looking penis, we can't change your voice back without risking you
losing your voice. The face can be completely changed back. Can I ask
that we please keep this discussion professional? We're trying to help
you now, we screwed up and we'll do what we can to help you."
"Theresa." A one word demand.
"Courtney is here to..."
"Theresa," comply or else.
"She can explain..."
"Theresa, I have nothing to say to you." Fuck you.
"Mr. Meyer, we have more to discuss."
"Theresa." The word mister grated on my ears. Was I really Mr. James
Meyer? I'm a complete freak, they messed me up, I'm deformed.
"Mirror."
Terri left the room and returned with a hand mirror. She held the
reverse of the mirror to me.
"Are you sure you're ready, Jim?"
Again nodding, here was the great reveal. She turned the mirror slowly
and it reflected the sight of someone beaten beyond recognition. It
wasn't me, it wasn't a woman, it was a piece of meat, wrapped in
bandages and gauze. My face was purple, swollen all over with hardly a
bit of skin undamaged. Sutures were well hidden but little streaks of
dried blood indicated they were there. I looked at Terri and she moved
the mirror from side to side. My face was a mess, it couldn't ever
recover to look like anything like me. I saw my bandaged neck, nothing
to report but I'm guessing an Adam's apple was no longer there. Terri
moved the mirror farther down and I saw the new lumps on my chest, these
were apparently my new breast implants, wrapped tightly in several
layers of gauze and bandages. No wonder why my chest hurt. Then I had
to know the rest of the awful story. Courtney left the room, Fr.
Michael and Brent looked out the window, and Terri rolled the bedsheet
down. Raising the hospital gown, I saw the catheter line and the mirror
followed it up. My privacy respected to the only clinical person and
the female in the room and myself. Or, Christ, the only two females in
the room! I couldn't grasp that Terri, Courtney and I were all females.
Terri, moving the mirror up had very little to actually show me. More
bandages and gauze over my pelvis, but a flat pelvis. There was no
bulge, nothing to indicate anything manly, I had a smooth crotch and
that was enough to see. I was resigned to it and sighed heavily. It
was true. The impossible had happened and now it all hit me. I didn't
know what to do and my head dropped to the side, tears coming down my
cheeks.
"Theresa?" I sobbed.
Chapter Five
What would she think of me, how could she want me, I'm not a man
anymore, how can I face the kids, my family, friends, neighbors, Larry?
My whole life is upset, what will I do, what am I, who am I? Questions
without answers hit my mind like rapid fire machine gun rounds rattling
inside a tank. Despite my pain, nothing was real, nothing was grounded.
Existential questions pounded my brain with increasing ferocity.
Despite the meds, my mind was running 500 mph and not going anywhere. I
didn't hear anything anyone in the room was saying, I didn't notice Fr.
Michael leaving the room. Courtney blathered on in the background about
what I'll never know. Finally, there was a knock on the door. Terri
answered and shot a glance to Brent and Courtney. They excused
themselves. A couple of minutes later, Theresa walked in, the love of
my life, my wife of the last 20 years, being assisted by Terri, followed
closely by Fr. Michael and with the worst look on her face I've ever
seen. She had been crying, she trembled occasionally and she called to
me, "Jim? I love you honey."
"Me too," rasping in my new tone.
"Jim, I'm with you, I will help you through this honey, we're going to
be ok."
"You and me, we're still us? We're going to stay together?" She
couldn't want to be near me, I wasn't a man, I was a deformed freak.
She loved me as a man, not whatever the hell I am now, whatever they did
to me."
Terri interjected, "You really can't be speaking for 2 more days, I'm
sorry."
Theresa shot her a dirty look, she looked like she could burn down the
hospital with those lasers.
"I'm really sorry but I'll do what I can to help and they assigned me to
you for my experiences." She paused. "I had those surgeries, I was
born male. Of course I wanted the surgeries but I can at least relate
to some degree."
Now I shot her a look, that came out of nowhere! But the hospital was
trying to help an ugly situation in whatever way it could.
"Get out of here you freak!" Theresa all at once screamed and sobbed
and started to get up, the redhead was coming out. There was no
consoling her but she also had insulted me. I was a freak, I was like
Terri, I'm not male, not female, am I even human anymore? The questions
pounded on me and security was in the room in an instant.
"Ma'am, you'll have to settle down!" Security was calling backup and
the taser was out. The situation was out of control. Theresa screamed,
"Shut up, asshole!" then she was down on the floor convulsing. I
couldn't move to help or protect her, still in the restraints all I
could do was hope that she wouldn't get hurt. I still struggled,
nonetheless, until my chest and groin started hurting. She was hauled
out of the room and placed on a bed which was wheeled down the hall, out
of sight. This was going from worst to just plain god awful. I wanted
to protect her, but I couldn't and could I ever protect her again since
I wasn't a man? I was growing more and more depressed. The thought of
the sex change permeated my every thought to everything, my entire
person, my entire life is changed.
Terri re-entered the room after a few minutes, "Are you ok? Did you
hurt anything, any sutures bleeding?," as she checked me from head to
toe.
"It's time for your pain meds, would you like them?"
I just wanted the whole surreal experience to go away, I wanted to be
one hundred miles away and to sleep, I nodded, she injected and I
escaped from the situation for today.
Valentina
- 05.11.2022
- 18
- 0
