Extreme Measures - The Case Of Dana And Loren free porn video

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction composed by the author, and expertly edited by Lisa Funke. It is presented without compensation for entertainment only. Any resemblance of characters to persons living or otherwise is entirely coincidental. With the author's approval, this work may be presented on any fee forum. EXTREME MEASURES - DANA AND LOREN by Lorna Samuels Preface: After almost eight years of marriage, I still considered myself the luckiest husband alive, since I'm the one who Loren chose. I was certainly bias, but my wife was still the most wonderful woman I'd ever known, a perfect blend of intelligence, confidence, and feminine beauty. It didn't hurt, of course, that when loose her uniquely ginger hair flowed over her shoulders, and her 5'7" frame was generously curvaceous. Loren had only tried college for one semester, during which she got into part-time work doing internet research. When she realized that was what she liked, college was left behind. By the time we met, she was a well-respected researcher sub-contracting for several prominent legal firms, and was expanding into medical. She was sharp as a whip and knew some of the weirdest stuff! I'm Dana Owen Cossley, and if my wife's to be believed, I was a 'decent catch'. At a fraction over 6 feet, and reasonably trim, I can concede her point, though it's hard to be objective. I never liked my first name though, so I prefer "DOC", based on my initials. That moniker seemed to propel me into the medical field, where I eventually got a Doctorate, but in Medical Business Administration. Straight out of college, I took a low-level staffer job at a prestigious teaching and research hospital, where after several years I worked my way up to Assistant to the Chief Administrator. It wasn't glamorous, but then neither was there the pressure of actually practicing medicine, with peoples' lives literally in your hands. My job usually meant swimming through a mountain of tedious paperwork, but almost every day had its variety, and challenges. I met Loren Irene Taylor at a fundraiser for the hospital's new Post- Natal Oncology Unit and we surprised both of us when we were married only a few months later. After several years together we were growing roots in our professions and community, near unto perfection. Well almost. The last piece of fulfillment was a family, which we had decided to delay for a few years while our careers developed, a common enough choice by young professionals. Trouble was, once we were ready, it wasn't happening despite our best and most enthusiastic efforts. We did all the right things - checking her timing, optimal temperature, and laying flat on her back, hips elevated for at least an hour afterwards. Then the arduous waiting, and the painful reality of Aunt Flow's unwelcome return. My work gave us access to every possible medical resource, and nothing was working. The not-so-appealing options of artificial assistance by In Vitro, or even adoption were looming in our future. While trying to remain stubbornly persistent, we were also becoming increasingly frustrated, even somewhat desperate, which began taking a toll on our relationship. Worst of all, sex was becoming a chore. One evening, after we'd learned yet again that we'd failed to conceive, Loren was scanning through one of her favorite women's Netties when I noticed the article was about pregnancy. "Honey, we need help," she stated tearfully. "We've gotten advice from the best reproductive specialists," I countered a bit too sharply. "What more is there?" "Maybe there's something wrong with one of us. Shouldn't we check, just in case?" "I suppose so, but we'll need to be prepared for the results. If it's a guy thing, I don't know if I could face being unable to father our kids." I was having trouble dealing with our problem, and it would be even worse if I was the reason. "But we've got to know if we can be parents! You of all people should know that there are a lot of ways medicine can help. I've found tons of articles about..." "Yea," I interrupted a bit too tersely, "our research center has been one of the principle sources for much of the hope for childless couples." "Then make the appointments." I could do nothing more than fold to her demand and simply nodded agreement, then began cataloguing the contacts to make at work. I guess my reason for not doing this yet was the hope that we'd be successful without sharing our personal deficiencies with so many strangers, but now that the pressure was on there was no way to dodge the inevitable. The list was a veritable who's who of reproductive specialists. It would have been an expensive proposition, even with insurance, but fortunately, as a staffer I had carte blanche within our organization, and with no out-of-pocket cost. The contacts were made and appointments arranged. During the next few weeks we endured a gamut of tests involving multiple contributions of bodily fluids, and insinuations into personal spaces that are best left to the imagination. Suffice to say, it wasn't pleasant, but definitely gave me an all too personal perspective on what some of our patients had to tolerate. I was left to surmise that the gauntlet was just as unpleasant for Loren, if not more so, though she never offered any hint about her experiences, other than a decidedly morose demeanor. Fortunately, my boss, Dr. Robert J. Ambursen (aka 'Chief'), was very understanding when I disappeared into the bowels of The Center for hours at a time. In fact, he was even helpful with some of the bureaucratic entanglements that could have prevented an employee, even one of his own staff, from getting the special and very timely access that we were granted. Finally, we had a consultation with none other than the Director of Research herself, Dr. Victoria Harrison ("Doc Vicky" to upper management, "Director" or "Dr Harrison" to anyone else). Despite her high ranking, she was a noted reproductive specialist herself, so we were extremely grateful for her help. Although a grandmother in her early fifties, Dr Harrison had mostly avoided the ravages of age and matronly spread, with the exception of her abundant bosom. The casual observer would probably consider her attractive, while her subordinates knew her to be a motivated perfectionist and task-master (mistress?) extraordinaire. There had been no hint of any test results, so I gripped Loren's clammy hand in the large windowed corner office with shared worry and anxiety obvious in our expressions. The wait was grueling and seemed interminable. But we had actually only been there for a few minutes when Dr. Harrison entered with a flourish, wearing the typical medical white lab coat over a stylish green dress. She greeted us with a warm handshake. "Good to see you again Dana, and you Loren." (I was never 'Doc' to her.) She moved behind the walnut desk and dumped a thick folder on its pristine uncluttered surface. There was an odd semi-smile on her pleasant face as she flung open the folder and scanned it for a few unnerving seconds. "Well, my friends, yours is one of the more interesting and challenging cases we've seen for some time." My heart struggled to keep beating. "That can't be good," I groaned. "You've found something?" Loren whispered whenever she was worried or scared. "Actually, we found some things... my dear, and no, Dana, it actually is good, depending on how you look at it. Granted, there are anomalies, but we already have a treatment plan that, if you accept, will virtually guarantee that you can become parents." "What anomalies?" I responded. "... what treatment?" Loren gasped excitedly. "Guarantee?" I added. This was getting both frightening and hopeful. What a horrendous emotional mixture! "Well, let's see," she mused while leafing through the folder. "You've obviously been doing everything that you could to get pregnant naturally. It's amazing what people will endure to become parents, and you've proven that you're certainly motivated. But it hasn't happened, has it? And now we know why." I wondered if either of us was ready for this, but... "Why?" "Firstly, Loren. Given the right circumstances you are fully capable of producing a child, but your system is making it woefully difficult. Your ovaries are alternating their egg releases, as they should, but instead of doing so monthly, the cycles are random, and there is no medical way to predict when releases will occur. Your periods are normal, because your hormones seek balance, and your uterus is normal, so it must purge on the dictated cycle or suffer. Have you noticed any oddities like sudden onset, inconsistent flow, or clotting?" As she absorbed the diagnosis Loren's expression slowly changed to understanding as she nodded, "Yes, it's been that way since my late teens. But that still means I can get pregnant, right?" "Yes, but only with great difficulty," Doc Vicky replied with reserve. "And, I'm sorry to say, Dana, it is almost impossible with you as the potential father." She continued with emphasis before either of us could react. "Your sperm count is only about ten percent of average, and their motility is below 20%." It is me! "So my count is low and slow. DAMN!" Despite its possibility, I wasn't ready for this. My manhood had suddenly been deflated and tossed into the depths of despair. Neither was Loren. "No! Oh please, no!" Doc Vicky pressed on. "Furthermore, your count and motility drop even further if not given sufficient recovery time, which tests indicate takes about two weeks." I buried my face in my hands. "Oh God, if not for erections I'd be no man at all." Loren's attempt at a comforting embrace was little help. Doc Vicky was sympathetic. "Didn't you hear me say 'almost impossible'? It's not all bad news. Of course, the odds are not good, and luck is always a factor, but you could succeed. Although your chances could greatly improve with intervention, which may require some extreme measures. Do you want to be alone for a while to talk? Or do you want to hear the whole spiel?" I gripped Loren's hand like it was a lifeline. "Hon, I'm so sorry!" She didn't seem as upset as I'd expected. "Oh please, it's both of us, not just you. We knew it had to be something, and now we know what that is." Doc Vicky gave us a moment for hugs and comfort. "Well?" "Let's have it all," I replied sullenly, looking for Loren's agreeing nod. "Ok, there are several things we can do. "First is the most obvious, medications. There are some that might improve cycles and egg releases, but there's nothing available that will boost sperm counts or motility. "Second, there are 'assistive' procedures, of which In Vitro Fertilization or IVF-ET would probably have the best chance of working." She pulled a large reference book from a nearby shelf to provide detailed illustrations as she described the process. "We would harvest some eggs, combine them in the lab with a concentration of sperm. If any fertilization occurs, we implant them to the uterus, then wait to see if any of them take hold." Loren responded cautiously, "But if my egg production is so unpredictable, doesn't that mean there might be fewer to spare?" "Not likely, my dear, but they're not doing much good where they are either, are they?" "True," was the somber reply. I caught onto something. "Did you say 'implant them'?" "Yes, there's always the possibility of multiples." Loren's expression turned to a different kind of shock. "You mean we could have twins, or more?" "Yes, that's certainly the up side of this option, but it's not likely. The odds of even one 'taking' are only about twenty to thirty percent. Unfortunately, in your cases it's our expectation that IVF-ET will fail in the lab, because of Dana's lethargic sperm." "Then we're looking at adoption?" I responded listlessly, then repeated a decision we'd made early on. "But we wanted to be parents of our own children, not someone else's." "Yes, of course, but you haven't heard me out yet." She was smiling now, and it wasn't an attempt at humor. "Just how badly do you want your own children? If that was the end result, would you be willing to participate in untested experimentation?" It seemed a strange question, but Loren nodded emphatically, and I answered with a solid, "Absolutely, we'll do whatever is necessary." "Then you should consider participating in our new Extreme Measures Protocol," she replied evenly. "As the title implies, it's a radical process that we've been developing under a federal grant for an entirely different mission, but there's no reason why it can't work for you. In fact, while still in early human trials, quite by accident, it has helped a couple with problems quite similar to your own." "Really?" we both chimed in expectantly. Then I began to wonder aloud, "Shouldn't I have heard about this? The funding alone would be hard to hide, and I'm the Chief's representative on the Budget Committee." She smiled indulgently. "You'd never have seen a hint of it, Dana. Most of the funding is provided directly to the project by our client. Only the facilities overhead is in our own, but since the goals of this project demanded 'stealth' budgeting, you'd never have known about it without a 'need to know'. However, I've been authorized to brief you about EMP if you are willing to comply with certain security requirements, assuming you are interested?" "Definitely." "You bet!" "Very well." She pulled two sheets from the folder, and passed them to us. "Sign these, and we'll continue." I quickly scanned the short paragraphs of legalese and realized, "These are Non-Disclosure Agreements." "That's right. I can't say anything further without having those statements signed by both of you and countersigned by me. In doing so you agree to never under extreme penalty divulge anything about what you are about to learn to anyone outside the EMP facilities, even if you believe they are already aware of its existence." "Why are you worried, Dana?" my wife asked. "Even if it's military or national security spooks stuff, if it gets us a family..." She signed with a flourish. So did I. Doc Vicky countersigned the two forms, locked them in her desk, then declared calmly, "It is exactly that." "Wait... what...!" Loren gasped. I sat there shaking my head and wondered what we'd just gotten ourselves into. We were about to get the shock of our young professional lives. "EMP is the result of a federally funded research grant by Homeland Security's Witness Protection Program. They wanted to know if a medical method could be developed to allow their 'charges' to be relocated with new identities that would be absolutely foolproof." "My clients have been involved in some cases like that," Loren volunteered, "but they're never absolutely foolproof. In fact, as I recall there's only about a 50% success rate because of any number of failure points, like moles revealing information from inside the agencies, or simply someone being recognized no matter where they're relocated. That's why it's so hard to get most folks to subject themselves to such life threatening risks." "That was true... until now. We call it the Extreme Measures Protocol or EMP, and for good reason. "In recent years there have been enormous advances in human physiological studies that combined the earlier Human Genome Project, recent stem cell research, along with nanotechnology and cloning science to..." "Cloning! You don't mean human cloning? That's under strict international control..." She gave me an impatient glance. "With which we comply in every detail, Dana. Our focus has been on human organ and skeletal structures. The real breakthroughs came when nanites and stem cells were used to successfully alter a nonfunctional cloned skeletal hip structure. After that the soft tissues were a breeze, and the early results have been nothing short of spectacular." "Sounds like science fiction," Loren countered with undisguised suspicion. "The legal eagles and medicals that I know would be highly skeptical." "But many of those same professionals, along with law enforcement we've been working with, have been more than impressed. "Just suppose the authorities have a man who can put away a high- profile bad guy and is given protection along with his wife who are in their mid 50's. The man is a heavyset 6'3" and she's a rotund 5'5". But when the bad guy's minions track them down, they find a young black 20- something couple, a slim 5'11" fellow and his very busty 5'8" wife who's heavily pregnant. What would be your conclusions?" "That the information was woefully bad, and the source unreliable," I concluded. "Exactly, and that's what EMP can do. We've had several test subjects to-date, and the couple I just described were our first human test duo." "Are you saying that you can change a person's body and make them younger." "Yes, and more. That pretty young woman had been a man over 6' tall, and they were white." After a short pause, we both reacted with audible gasps, before my wife beat me to the astonishing conclusion. "You're claiming that you can turn a man into a fully functional woman?" "It's not a claim, my dear young friends. Their baby girl is due in a few weeks." "That sounds like something you could use to allow transsexuals to get pregnant," my wife pressed. "I know the true ones have wanted that for decades, but..." "Actually, you're almost right, Loren. We could offer M2F TS's the motherhood that some of them crave, as well as fatherhood to F2M's. But we're blocked by the client's security protocols and mission specifics. Maybe someday it will be available to those folks, but at present they're not EMP's target demographic." The acronyms were giving me a headache, but I figured them out. "Not that we're doubting what you're claiming, but how does this have anything to do with us? We're not here because of any security issue, or being relocated for our personal protection, and we definitely aren't interested in changing sexes! That's not our issue at all, so we have nothing in common with your supposed demographics, or those other... types either." "Of course you do," she insisted, "you want children, don't you?" "Sure," I replied with a shudder, "but not like that." Loren shook her pretty head and chuckled. "Doc, you might be able to actually do all that stuff, but Dana's right, we've nothing in common with the people you've described. We just want a family. So how about dropping the other shoe? How do we fit into this Project of yours?" "Gladly," she replied. "Although EMP's primary mission is to help individuals who need undetectable new identities, the process has some unintended consequences that are... well, quite extraordinary. Every subject released to-date has been in perfect health. Even serious physical issues have been completely eliminated. Also, dramatic physiological alterations can be accomplished based on need, as with our test couple, or even the subject's request. The..." "Are you claiming," I interrupted, "that your process cures disease?" "... and then some," she responded firmly. "In fact, one of the older subjects had inoperable pancreatic cancer. When he was discharged, there was no sign of it. He was completely healthy." "Wow!" we responded together. Loren asked another obvious question before I could. "Does that mean if we go through your program that all the stuff you found wrong would be cured?" She gave a self-satisfied grin, "Exactly. Based on tests you've already completed, and subsequent analysis and computer simulations, the funding agencies have agreed to offer this treatment to you as only the second couple who've gotten through that gauntlet. If the projections hold true, we'll be one step closer to going public with a product that will help far more than originally intended, and the potential for our Project and this hospital are huge." Loren was obviously eager to accept. "We're in, right Dana?" "Huh... you're saying that since that other couple got pregnant, we can too." "Absolutely. Only a few days in-clinic is required for the first and most complex phases." Doc Vicky was genuinely pleased as she produced another pile of papers. "Once you've read and signed these 'Permission to Treat' documents and we can begin any time. Neither of you have immediate family so any personal complications you may have should be minimal. Dana, I've already cleared it with The Chief, and Loren doesn't have that to worry about, right?" "Yea, I do everything on my laptop, email, and via Nettie." I hesitated for some reason. "Could you explain a bit more about this? this EMP thing, and what we can expect?? ?Sure, First, you?ll be checked into the clinic and prepped just as if you were having surgery, only it isn?t done with scalpels. You?ll be given an injection that is tailored specifically for you, which will render you unconscious for 12 to 20 hours. This is needed for the formulation to take hold and begin its work, while we closely monitor the nanites? integration into your system and verify that the process is fully operational. There might need to be a few adjustments, but nothing significant. ?Phase Two begins when you awaken. This is the most dramatic, and potentially traumatic as well. It lasts at least two days, maybe more, during which you will remain in the clinic while the treatment gradually and quite thoroughly completes its task of correcting your abnormalities. ?Phase Three simply involves scheduled post-treatment evaluations, along with thorough documentation of the process and results. ?Since the initial protocol requires less than a week, anytime thereafter you can resume your attempts to have kids naturally since you will both be fully capable of procreation without your current limitations.? ?Ok, we?ll do it, as long as you promise not to turn me into a mother- to-be, ?cause I don?t think I could handle that,? I stated emphatically while signing the tagged signature blocks on the forms. Loren had already done hers. ?Same for me, only the other way round,? she grinned. More forms joined the NDA?s already locked in her desk. ?Wonderful! Now there?s one more thing that we need to discuss. As you now know, EMP will fix your anomalies. However, remember me mentioning that physical alterations are possible?? She acknowledged our nods. ?So how do you feel about making minor adjustments to yourselves?? ?You?re kidding?? I scoffed. ?Not at all. Targeted physiological modifications that are compatible your genetics can be programmed into the nanities. You can be taller, shorter, fatter, skinnier? all sorts of ?minor? things.? ?Could you give Loren bigger boobs,? I joked. Her modest B-cups fit her beautifully, but hey, what guy doesn?t like ?em big? ?Ha ha,? was Loren?s derisive reaction, then she arched a conspiratorial eyebrow, ?but it would be kinda nice if ?little Dana? was a bit more substantial.? Doc Vicky just smiled. ?Both very doable, if that?s really what you want.? ?Really?!? we both reacted. ?Sure, but whatever you decide can only be ?maximized? based on your genetics. You might want ten inches or E-cups, but ?only? get eight or nine inches and D-cups.? ?Well, as long as I get the cups and Dana gets the inches,? my wife teased. ?Actually, I wouldn?t mind getting a bit more on top, and a little curvier. I?ve got pretty narrow hips, and some flab that I could do without.? ?But such lovely flab,? I quipped, trying to ignore the sharp elbow jab in my ribs while pondering with a self-conscious smirk, ?Ugh? hmm, I wouldn?t mind getting rid of this gut. And if m?lady wants me to have more ?down there?, who am I to argue?? Doc Vicky had been jotting more notes. ?Very well, that?s about it, unless you have any other questions.? When we didn?t, she stood, ?Have a great weekend, and we'll see you in the clinic bright and early Monday morning.? She handed me a slip of paper that turned out to be a prescription script. ?Here?s directions and your pass to the EMP Center. Be there early Monday morning, no later than 7:00 a.m.? ?That soon? Today?s Friday already,? Loren gasped in surprise. ?Why not? We don?t have the limitations of most medical facilities with built in delays in their appointment scheduling. Besides, the subject currently in process will be done later today, so the entire staff can to focus on you.? ?Well, the sooner the better, I guess.? I nudged Loren with a wink. Her amused snicker was priceless. Gawd, I love her. I had to go back to work and finish my day, so we parted with a kiss. The next few hours at my desk were hardly productive, despite the pile of work that should have gotten my attention. All too often I found myself staring blankly at a bare spot on my office wall, contemplating what we?d committed to, and the trust level we needed to follow it through. The choice seemed so simple, do that EMP thing or take in someone else?s child. Yea? simple? HA! Eventually, I gave up trying to get anything done and headed home, trusting Doc Vicky?s word that my boss had it all covered for the next several days. Loren was waiting with martinis. ?I think we need these,? she insisted. ?Good idea,? I sighed. Under the circumstances I wasn?t going to argue, even though we rarely imbibed before dinner and even then usually just with a bit of wine. ?I guess we need to talk.? I gave her a quick kiss before we sat down together on the sofa and silently sipped our drinks. The alcohol buzz was delicious, but the atmosphere was tense. ?Well, what do you think?? Loren finally prodded, with a bit of a catch in her voice. It was easy to see she was just as nervous as me. I sighed, ?It?s sure complicated, but if she?s to be believed, it?ll give us what we want.? ?How complicated can it be? We either follow through with the treatment, or we keep trying and hope someday we get really, really lucky.? ?You don?t seem to be as interested as you were earlier,? I observed. She frowned. ?Well, it seemed great that we could have our family, but sitting here it just feels a little risky. Gawd, honey, they want to mess with our bodies all the way down to the genetic level. I?ve already seen some of the stuff out there about those technologies, and it isn?t pretty. Failures in animal studies have been brutal, if not downright horrific, and there haven?t been any published human studies even close to what we heard about today. It certainly sounded good, but maybe we?re being sucked into a really good sales pitch. Maybe we should just do what we?ve been doing and hope for the best.? ?Do you really think we?d be happy with that after what we heard today? And what if it never happens? Do we adopt or stay childless?? My wife wasn?t handling this too well. ?I just don?t know, Dana. I want desperately to have a family, but letting someone mess with our genes is just plain scary.? I smiled wanly. ?So it?s either status quo and pray, or commit ourselves to Doc Vicky?s program?? Loren was quiet for a long thoughtful moment, and then seemed resolved. ?Well ?it is what it is?. How do you feel about it?? I shrugged with resignation. ?If EMP is where life takes us?? Loren interrupted me with a delicious kiss that sealed our decision. We only had the weekend to prepare so we worked up a list of ?to do?s?. First was to explain our week-long absence, and on short notice, with the non-disclosure agreements we signed forcing a rather weak explanation of ?family issues?, although neither of us had any family besides ourselves anymore. Loren had it easier since she only needed to notify her clients that she would be out of touch and unavailable for the week. I?d left a pile of work on my desk, but had decided to trust that Doc Vicky had cleared things with the Director, and it would be dealt with. My emotions were a volatile rollercoaster ride of highs and lows. But Loren's naturally pleasant disposition got through to me occasionally, especially her playful sexual innuendos, which actually made the weekend memorable on several occasions. Monday morning, I could feel my blood pressure rising steadily and Loren was squirming in her seat while we drove to the clinic. Even though we arrived a bit early, Doc Vicky and a small army of ?suits? and white-coated medical staffers were already waiting. After some introductions we were whisked off to a conference room where our identities were confirmed, then we had to sign stacks of documents that made a mortgage deal look amateurish (the ?suits? were a gaggle of lawyers). What drew my attention most were the medical releases which basically gave the doctors carte blanche regarding our health and 'viability' throughout the procedures. Remember, they explained, this is standard procedure for any experimental medical study that was attempting human trials. The prospect of trusting complete strangers with our very lives wasn't a decision taken lightly, but I trusted Dr. Harrison implicitly. Besides, we had passed the point-of-no-return the instant we entered the facility. When all the legalese was finally tucked away, Doc Vicky took over. ?A couple of our staff will show you to the rooms prepared for your stay. You?ll have a few minutes to get settled in before you?ll be called to begin the treatments. And thank you so much for trusting us to help you.? She hugged us both quite thoroughly, then passed us off to a couple of nurses, while the ?suits? disappeared into the depths from whence they had emerged. We?d expected a tiny motel-like room, and were pleasantly surprised by the spacious comfortably furnished suite, almost to the level of a luxury four star hotel. It wasn't home, but far better even than many high-end apartments or condos. We had just begun unpacking when the call came that they were ready for us. This was it! We embraced in a moment of nervous silence, then shared a deep passionate tonsil throbbing kiss before following the same nurses down the hall with hands clasped tightly. By the time I was stripping down to my birthday suit I had a chronic case of dry mouth and was sweating profusely. My knees were shaking and I was getting light headed. Why was I so anxious? They were just going to ?tweak? us and fix our reproductive problems, right? As we were shown into a room that was larger than expected, I managed to feel exposed and ridiculous in the floppy tie-in-the-back hospital gowns. It was considerably more than a typical surgery, with a lot of equipment standing around, and two beds positioned in the center a few feet apart. There we were prepped as if for major surgery, sprawled out on the uncomfortably thin hospital mattresses with an IV in place while we waited for Dr. Victoria Harrison to arrive. Sticky multicolored patches were attached all over me from head to toe and wires connected them to various types of equipment. We were just close enough that we could hold hands, which I made a point of doing as much as possible. Loren?s hand was as cold and clammy as mine. I felt a chill, even wrapped in the gown and covered by a sheet. The addition of a pre-warmed blanket draped over my torso and legs was very soothing, but did little to relieve my anxiety level. We only had to wait a few minutes before Dr. Hamilton arrived along with a phalanx of nurses, two of whom was carrying covered trays. Doc Vicky was all business, but there was an undercurrent of excitement in her voice. ?Well Dana? Loren? are we ready to get started? Frankly, I wasn't all that sure you'd actually show up given all your concerns.? I was staring at the nearest covered tray. ?You offered a chance we didn?t have, Doc. So it wasn?t that hard.? Loren emphasized her grip on my hand. ?Couldn't have said it better myself.? ?We're very pleased that you trust us, and you can be certain that your well-being is our top priority,? Dr. Vicki assured us. ?We have full confidence that you will both eventually be very grateful that you signed up for EMP.? She grinned slightly, then we were handed yet another release form. ?This is the last one, I promise, and the simplest. It says you voluntarily and without any duress, agree and affirm that we have your permission to administer the serum, designated?? she checked something on the chart she was carrying, ?? batch number EMP-M047 for Dana, and EMP-F022 for Loren. These are your very own personal concoctions, the only ones in existence, so no one else can ever get yours. Safety and security, remember?? Pulling my free hand from Loren's solid grasp, I nodded and signed with my usual incomprehensible scrawl. My lovely wife did likewise, though I knew hers was quite pleasantly legible. I renewed my grip on Loren's small hand and asked anxiously, ?Are we doing the right thing?? When she simply nodded, I chose to interpret her expression and tears as showing her love and willingness to keep me in her life, wherever that took us. For one of the rare times in my life, a silent prayer of hope brushed my thoughts. With a nod and loving stare into my wife's tearful eyes, I mouthed a silent ?I love you?, which she mimicked with trembling lips. Then I turned to Dr. Vicki. ?I guess we?re ready.? Doc Vicky gestured to the nurses. Suddenly there was a noisy clatter of metal. ?Oops, sorry,? someone exclaimed. ?Helen, will you help me with this?? I glanced at Vicky who was aiming her famous ?evil eye? at the two nurses who were down on the floor recovering the contents of the trays they?d been carrying. When all was restored, Doc Vicky took the syringe given her and emptied it into my IV. ?Ok, Dana, here we go! Eileen, please note the time is 08:19.? I could only smile wanly and glance at Loren for encouragement. Tears were running down her cheeks, but she gave a quick not of acceptance. My own ?special? serum was rushing into my bloodstream and I was committed. I tried to watch Loren get hers injection, but my vision was suddenly blurring, a giant ball of cotton was stuffed in my mouth, and the room was tilting significantly to the left. It took an extreme effort just to turn my head. ?See ya in a few hourrrzzz? I ov oo...? I slurred but Loren was already out. Even if she didn?t hear, I'm still glad those are the last words I could say to her before being consumed by a solid darkness. I was staring at the ceiling when the world began to reform around me. The clock showed 10:41. Assuming that it was p.m., I had been out for slightly more than 14 hours. Thankfully, all the monitoring gear was still attached and beeping away exuberantly. I tried to brush away the blurry vision, only to be assailed by a whole body sense of extreme fatigue, along with a pervasive ache everywhere. There was also the unpleasant presence of devices that had been installed to handle wastes while I was unconscious. I struggled to turn enough to focus on Loren. She was still unconscious, and without any obvious changes, although that was hardly surprising since hers would have been so slight. Within moments a nurse arrived to check on my status, and noticed that I was awake. ?Hey there, Mr. Crossley, welcome back,? she asked a bit tensely. ?How are you feeling?? My throat was sore, my tongue swollen, and my mouth was so dry it felt like I had a mouthful of sand, but I managed a strained raspy response. ?Whazzz the lic? shense of the buszz that? <cough> . Everything hurdz, deep aches ev?where.? My voice was weak, scratchy and hoarse. ?That's? uh? to be expected,? she replied, then a bit briskly turned away. ?I'll inform the doctors that you're awake as soon as I update your vitals.? She gave us both furtive glances while checking our vitals, then recorded whatever was being registered on the various devices, before leaving quite briskly. ?Are you okay?? Loren had been aroused by the nurse?s activity and our short exchange. She didn?t sound any better than I did. ?Yeah, I guess so. It's not too bad, just really uncomfortable.? I throat was scratchy, but my voice was getting better, although it sounded oddly soft. ?Feels like I've been exercising for hours and abused every joint and muscle I have. I think even my hair hurts.? Loren smiled wanly. ?Same here, but I'm awfully glad you're okay.? The strain in her tone was obvious. A grumbling in my gut reminded me that I hadn't eaten for many hours. ?I?d sure like a drink of cold water, and maybe something to eat. <hack> ? Sorry, it really hurts to talk.? My voice was a raspy whisper and sounded way too high, almost like before it changed in my early teens. ?Me too,? she croaked with a low hoarseness. We lay there together listening to the various pings and beeps of surrounding equipment for several minutes before a couple of nurses arrived, with Doc Vicky close behind. I was handed a cup of water with shaved ice that was the best thing I?d ever tasted. It felt wonderful on my abused throat. But the sweet soothing feeling on my tonsils didn?t prevent me from noticing that Doc Vicky looked highly agitated. ?It?s good to see that you?ve made it through the critical first phase?? she stated rather stiffly. ?You?ll be feeling a lot better soon, but you?ll be really uncomfortable for quite a while, I?m afraid.? There was something in her demeanor and tone that set off alarms in my head. ?It?s not too bad, I guess. But you do? <ugh> don?t look all that happy. What do you mean ?for quite a while?? Didn?t you say this would be a simple process that?d be over quickly?? ?That was the plan,? she fidgeted, ?but? Damn, we?!? ?What?? I pressed. My voice was recovering but there was an odd timbre to it and the pitch was too high. She visibly slumped. ?Frankly, we screwed up. Do you remember the noise before your injections?? We both nodded. ?Well, that was caused when the nurses in charge of your injections stumbled into each other and dropped their trays. In the shuffle?? ?OH GAWD!? I squawked in a hoarse high pitch. From next to me came a much deeper and husky, ?No way!? ?? yeah, well, the syringes were switched,? she blurted out. ?I?m so? so? so terribly sorry!? The alarms on my monitoring devices were bound to start clattering any moment. ?<humphf> ? I? I? You gave me Loren?s??? My voice was already too obviously moving into a distinctly girlish range. ?Yes, Dana? I?m just so? so dreadfully sorry.? She turned away, ?? and of course, you got his, Loren.? I wanted to die! Instead I dropped into a void of deep blackness (thankfully dreamless this time). Pulling myself up out of comforting nothingness was extremely taxing. I honestly didn?t want to face the reality of what was being done to us, but when the room began to focus around me I had no choice. When my senses began recovering it felt like I was wrapped in a soggy wet blanket. The IV along with all those tabs and wires were still attached. I wondered if I might get electrocuted. Beyond the bleeping racket of those infernal medical monitors there was a lot of human activity happening around me. ?Notify Doctor Harrison that Mr. Crossley is waking up,? barked someone nearby, just as a blurry face hovered over me. ?Hi hon, how are you feeling?? I curled my lip in disgust as Loren?s smiling face came into focus. ?It feels like I?m buried in swamp grass and I have a terminal case of the flu.? While she squeezed my free hand I noticed that she was wearing a pair of dark gray canvas pants and a matching man?s shirt (I could tell by the buttons). ?You?re sweating profusely, hon, and the cloth wraps are there to absorb it. They haven?t removed the catheters yet either, but will before we are released back to the suite in a few hours.? ?How long was I out this time?? The clock had 9:42. ?And why are you up and about already but I?m not?? She was trying to smile but it wasn?t working. ?It?s Tuesday morning, darling. You were off in lala land since last night.? Suddenly my gut cramped painfully and bile rose quickly in my throat. One of the nurses apparently noticed and handed me a bedpan. The next few moments are best left to those with strong constitutions. Suffice to say it was messy and the stench was ghastly. When I was done Doc Vicky had arrived to personally took the container and handed me a wet towel for cleanup. ?We?ll need to keep you here until you?re feeling a little better. But you?re progressing nicely, so it shouldn?t be more than a few more hours.? My only response was a glum nod. Jeez that was gross! But worse yet was something else that I felt. The evacuation tubes still attached to my lower exit points were dealing with additional voluminous discharge. Despite the discomfort I was actually glad that those devices were still in place, and wondered if I?d have to wear adult diapers after they were removed. Otherwise, some poor nurse?s aide would have an especially unpleasant job to do. Trying to suppress the next bout, I groaned, ?What?s wrong with me, Doc? Why do I feel so miserable?? ?It?s an unavoidable part of the process, I?m afraid. Remember Dana, you?ve got a lot of weight to shed.? ?Huh?? The next bout prevented any additional response. ?Basically, you and Loren are becoming your alter-egos. Our process is changing you into the persons you would have been if naturally borne as the other gender. This means that your bodies are being reconstructed. You?ll be losing some height and a lot of weight to achieve the program?s feminine parameters. Loren is experiencing the opposite. ?The serum is working on your soft tissues and more slowly on skeletal structures. What body mass that?s not used or needed has to be expelled, so you?re shedding the excess by every means available. Since the human body is about 60% water, that?s a lot of the volume so we have to plan for that. Fortunately, this is also the fastest and most efficient phase of the process. ?Based on our hasty modeling estimates, you?ll be losing about five inches and need to drop at least sixty pounds. Loren is in the process of growing to 6?2? and needs to gain about 55 pounds. She?s already mobile since she has to bulk up instead of purge, so she has to consume a lot of high-protein and fatty foods to achieve the desired male physiology. ?The good news, Dana, is that believe it or not you?ve already lost almost thirty pounds, and should be rid of the rest very soon. You?ll start feeling a lot better too, especially once we get all this cleaned up and you?re both situated in your quarters. ?Meanwhile, a nurse will remain to help with anything you need. Loren can stay too, although she?ll be busy eating and drinking to feed her own needs.? When I looked for her, my wife was sitting at a nearby table munching on a sandwich with a huge plate of pasta in front of her. ?We?re kinda going in opposite directions,? she snickered between bites. I noticed that her face was a bit rougher and her torso was thicker. ?Yea, lucky us.? It seemed like every time I opened my mouth the bile rose again. I wasn?t eating anything so was wondering where all that gunk came from, but realized that the process percolating within my body was throwing away whatever it didn?t need. With glum understanding I noted during the next few hours that the guttural eruptions were noticeably diminishing. ?Oh well,? I thought sullenly, ?maybe the sooner this is over with, the sooner they?ll reverse this nightmare and deliver on their original promise.? As the bouts lessened I must have dosed off in that warm wet cocoon, only to be awakened by something gross happening in my nether regions. Those disgusting catheters were being removed (not a highlight of this ?phase?, to be sure). It felt weird down there while they were working, and I purposely tried to avoid thinking about what havoc might have been perpetrated on my private parts while the wrappings were being pulled away. All the wires and the ubiquitous IV were removed too. A pair of male nurses helped me sit up and gave me a cotton gown that tied in front and helped fend off the sudden chill. I was so weak they had to help me onto a freshened bed. Doc Vicky was overseeing things, along with her EMP entourage, and was obviously pleased. ?You came through the infusion phase quite well, Dana.? Afraid that my abused guts would react, I remained silent while trying my best to show displeasure and discomfort with a steely glare during a flurry of activity. There was a confusing exchange of medical jargon, note taking, and recorded readings from the profusion of monitoring devices while my vitals were checked. When Doc Vicki pulled aside the robe to expose my chest she casually brushed a hairy spot with her gloved hand and placed her stethoscope where the pale skin was now completely smooth and clear. ?I'm shedding!? I gasped. She looked up. ?Of course. The easy changes happen very quickly, and that includes body hair. I gather you haven't noticed anything yet?? ?Only that my throat is so sore I can hardly talk, my body hurts all over, and I?m almost too weak to move!? ?Good.? Notes were added to a chart, ?You're progressing nicely.? She turned my wife. ?You haven't said much yet, Loren. Have you told Dana about any changes that you've noticed?? ?No,? she replied. ?I thought he?d have noticed by now.? ?Not necessarily, at least not in these early phases. Some changes happen very gradually and may be noticed by one of you before the other does. While you both undergo EMP treatment, you need to participate fully in each other?s transition. Share your observations, however trivial they may seem,? she admonished. ?It will help you both cope with a very difficult and stressful time for both of you.? ?Ok? honey, touch your ear,? Loren asked with a furtive grin as she approached my bed. ?Why?? ?Because I asked you to.? There was nothing unusual about the motion, but something was on my ear that felt like a spider web. When I try to brush it away it was anchored to my scalp. My hair had grown at least 3 inches. ?Oh!? ?There's been a lot happening,? Loren said, ?but I thought you'd notice. It started growing a few hours ago and it's been like watching a slow-motion nature film, you know like the ones of the flowers opening their petals.? A finger scratched my scalp and I pulled my hand away into my field of vision. The nails had grown at least half an inch beyond my fingertips. I probably should have noticed them when handling those bedpans, but I guess my focus was on the task at hand, so to speak. I fell back into the freshened pillows, suddenly overwhelmed by the realization that my body was actually changing. Loren leaned in close as if to kiss me, but grimaced and embraced me instead in a long comforting hug. I realized why she diverted her lips and fully understood. ?We both needed that,? she sighed after pulling away. ?It?s later than we?d planned so we?ll get you cleaned up, and send you off to the suite so you can relax and try to get a good night?s sleep. We?ll talk in more detail after you?ve rested up in a more comfortable situation.? Doc Vicky nodded at her team and left them to their work. I stared at her departure in openmouthed disbelief. ?Is she kidding? How can I sleep when I haven?t been awake for more a few minutes since we got here?? ?You?re awfully weak, Dana, honey,? Loren observed quite rightly. ?By the time we get there, you?ll probably see she?s right.? I was so tired my bones ached and I could barely hold my head up, but strangely I didn?t feel sleepy. The sponge bath by an attractive nurse, with help from Loren (was she jealous?) would have been far more pleasant but for a couple of interruptions by my revolting guts. Meanwhile, I was treated to the depressing sight of my body hair vanishing with every swipe of the warm wet clothes. They even dried and combed my hair, which tickled my ears and brushed my neck. When they were done, except for my scalp and crotch, I was as hairless and smooth as a baby's bottom, even my arms, pits, and legs. My whiskers were gone too! After years of shaving, my soft smooth cheeks felt distinctly unnatural. They added a light dusting of fragrant body powder, something I never wanted or thought I needed, but had no choice, although it?s scent wasn?t unpleasant. At least I was dry, reasonably comfortable for the first time since arriving, and didn?t smell like hospital disinfectant or a whore?s bathroom. Then I realized that I wanted something to eat. Maybe it was because my stomach had emptied itself so thoroughly, but I suspected it was more closely associated with the fact that my body was finishing it?s ?purge? of excess material. I could only hope so because when I was offered a bowl of clear bland chicken broth with no seasoning and only a slight hint of flavor, it was absolutely delicious. Unfortunately, it only remained down for a few minutes before demanding a prompt and thorough exit, along with a lot more. So for the time being I had to stick with sipping ice water, and very little of that. My otherwise wretched existence was soothed considerably by Loren?s presence, although our shared experience was taking an obvious toll on her. She stoically stayed at my side with a firm grasp of my hand and occasional encouragement in the form of a soft peck on my smooth cheek or a warm soothing hug (after I was cleaned up). Her other hand was working the provided food trays. It was like watching a food junky who couldn?t stop gorging. As a counterpoint, knowing our release was imminent brightened my spirits, at least a little. Finally they brought me some clothes, and left the two of us alone. But what they?d provided was nothing like what I had arrived with, and the inventory pushed my spirit back down toward the abyss of misery and discomfort. Once the ?mistake? had been announced, this was probably unavoidable, regardless of my best efforts to ignore the likelihood. Now I was faced with the distressing reality that I?d have to wear women's clothes. The pile contained plain white cotton panties, a light blue cotton blouse, dark blue pants with an elastic waistband (no zipper or pockets), and a pair of white canvas shoes. A small clutch purse contained what had been the contents of my pockets when I arrived: wallet, keys, handkerchief, and assorted coins. I probably should have had a royal fit and screamed for my guy stuff, but what was the use? The look on Loren's face confirmed that my protest would have been useless as she handed the panties with a shrug. ?Let?s try to deal with this together the best we can and maybe it?ll be easier.? Her encouragement was only slightly helpful while I struggled to handle things with those damnable long nails until Loren took matters into her own hands, literally. I flushed brightly with embarrassment while the full-cut panties were pulled up my legs. The waistband settled in just below my belly button, almost 2 inches higher than I was used to, the butt was loose, and the front was? well 'cluttered'. The pants were some soft silky material, the legs cut short well above the ankles, almost like Capri?s. The shoes were a pretty good fit on my gangly feet, but they were certainly a feminine style. The blouse was another matter. It had three quarter sleeves and was tight in the shoulders. I fumbled with the tiny buttons down the front, but they were backwards and I couldn?t get a good grip with long nails. While Loren helped, it was impossible not to notice the darts and extra material that was engineered to accommodate a much more voluminous frontage. I felt ridiculous, and groaned. ?I must look like an ugly transvestite.? My throat was a bit less sore, but my voice was still gravely, and occasionally hit a much higher register. My wife sized me up and smirked, ??mmm? I?d say you?re more metrosexual.? ?Humpfh,? was my only retort, since despite my previous protests I was beginning to feel a pervasive sense of fatigue and a need for more rest. The simple effort exerted to get dressed had evidently consumed most of whatever energy I had felt. It was terribly demeaning that I could only take a few dizzying steps before collapsing into a wheelchair that someone had maneuvered perfectly. ?You'll be needing this,? Dr. Vicki declared. ?Now let?s try to get you a bit more comfortable.? It didn't take long to reach our ?suite?, but it seemed like an eternity when the bile rose inexorably and my sphincter began to tighten against building pressures. By the time we arrived I was directing my ?driver? rather urgently toward the ?facilities?. When I was done, at least for the moment, Doc Vicky was still there. ?Get comfortable and rest as much as possible until at least tomorrow morning. You?re health and progress will be thoroughly checked every day at 10 a.m., and again at 6 p.m. until you leave. Meals can be delivered to your suite or you?re welcome to use our small kitchen. It has a well-stocked fridge and pantry, and it's not the standard hospital fare either. You?ll need to remain in the clinic until after you have both completed your treatments, but unfortunately we cannot offer much in the way of entertainment options to occupy your free time. You?ll have to settle for our library or the entertainment center provided here in your rooms. ?The phone is connected directly to the EMP?s offices where somebody is available 24/7. If you need to contact me directly just ask, anytime. So, do your best to settle in, relax, and rest as much as possible.? ?Thanks,? Loren replied as the good doctor left us to ourselves. I was too miserable and self-conscious to do anything but nod moodily as she left. ?I think I?d like to try taking a shower,? I declared obstinately, even knowing that I might be too weak to stand for more than a few minutes. ?I?ll help,? Loren declared. ?No hon, I?d like to do this myself, or at least try. There?s a seat in there so I won?t have to stand for very long. You can stay here and enjoy the food they?ve provided. I?ll holler if I need help.? ?If you?re sure?? ?Not really, but a warm soothing shower sounds pretty good right now.? ?K,? she shrugged and concentrated on the food. With determination building, I wheeled myself into the expansive bathroom. The shower was one of those type built to accommodate wheelchairs, and had a fold-down seat too. Once I?d stripped and adjusted the hot spray it was incredibly soothing, but felt noticeably different against my skin. I sat and soaked up the warm spray for a long time before actually checking to see what had been provided for our personal hygiene. There were several large sponges, even a loofah, along with a selection of cleansing products which were distinctly gender based. The single fresh new soap bar had a heavy musk scent, as did one of the shampoos. All the other containers were clearly for feminine use: flowery scented body wash, herbal shampoo, and lilac conditioner. I had a decision to make. The choices might have seemed obvious, given my future, but it was still incredibly difficult to resign myself to the fact that the changes were real. I was turning into a woman, but should I start smelling like one already? Deeper yet, could I make that leap? The troublesome answer being that it was inevitable. When wet strands fell in my eyes, it was all too obvious that my hair was growing at a phenomenal rate. It was already another several inches longer, covering my ears and neck. The texture was finer but so thick that extra effort was needed to get it thoroughly cleansed. Applying the pungently scented shampoo with elongated nails actually helped since I could use them in a kind of combing effect on my scalp. I remembered that Loren always used conditioner, so yet another feminine fragrance filled the air as I followed the instructions - apply generously, wait, rinse, reapply, wait, rinse thoroughly. I was already drenched in fragrance from washing my hair, so the floral body wash was little more than a full-body application of the same. Though yet again, the simple process of cleaning myself was made extraordinarily awkward by those nails. I was constantly struggling to grip the sponge, extract the soap, and scrub my body without inflicting significant damage to sensitive areas. Up to that point I hadn't paid a lot of attention to what was happening to my body as a whole. During the earlier sponge bath I was a bit numb, and only noticed the loss of body hair. Now though I was a lot more conscious that my hide was much more sensitive to the pressure of the shower?s spray. My skin was markedly softer, more sensitive, and looked almost pale after the sponging and shower rinsed away even more of my lightened and thinning body hair. It felt very strange to scrub at my face and feel only smooth clear skin instead of the usual rough bristle of whiskers. Other physical changes were beginning to show themselves. My nipples were swollen and so sensitive that even brushing them lightly with the sudsy sponge was almost painful. Around them the areolas had grown into tan circles maybe 2 inches across, beneath which were small distinct mounds of firm flesh. There wasn?t much more than I?d had before, but it definitely looked and felt different. Most disturbing, down below Mr. Happy had diminished significantly to barely half his former glory, and his playmates were down to pee-size, almost lost in their deflated carrier. Trying desperately to shrug off all the accumulating evidence, I rinsed thoroughly, shut off the water, and grabbed a towel. I had always been in the habit of thoroughly rubbing myself dry, but now that method was a big mistake, especially in my chest area. A patting method turned out to be far less abrasive. Damn my skin was sensitive! The lengthened hair was a thick soggy nuisance, and I couldn't quite figure out how to wrap it in a towel turban like Loren always did. So I dried it as best I could, then brushed the damp strands back off my forehead and behind my ears. With a towel draped over the wheelchair?s seat and another wrapped around my waist, I rolled over to the sink, and reached for a toothbrush to scrub away the grit in my mouth. When I looked up, the image staring back from the mirror was so shocking that I spewed out a mouthful of foam in a near state of panic. The reflection was me, but a much different ?me? than I was accustomed to. The slimmer neck, softer chin, and higher cheeks were completely devoid of whiskers, not even the five o'clock shadow I would normally have grown after so many hours between shaves. The lips were fuller, the mouth wider, the nose smaller and the dented septum was gone (the result of a broken nose when I fell off a playground swing at age 11). The eyes were larger and a clear bright blue now instead of hazel, with long thick lashes. The brow ridge was less prominent, and the thinner eyebrows were higher. The topper, literally, was that rapidly sprouting mat of thick honey brown hair (basic light brown with light tan highlights). [Hmm, how did I know that?] I had a ?widow?s peak? now, and the slightly receded areas on both sides had filled in completely. Being seated, I only saw above my shoulders, but the image was so astonishing that I began to hyperventilate. It took a few minutes to calm down with deep slow breaths. I was utterly exhausted. Chalk it up to the warm soothing shower, the stress of seeing all those changes in myself, along with the energy drain by the serum that was quickly emasculating me. Loren had changed into a simple t-shirt and boy-shorts. Her face was noticeably coarser - nose more prominent, thicker eyebrows, thinner lips, and there were a few dark hairs on her upper lip. Her hair was much shorter and darker, her widow?s peak was gone and her hairline had receded a bit from both sides. She looked up when I wheeled out of the bathroom, and stared. ?Amazing!? ?Huh?? ?Uh,? she snickered, ?you really should start wrapping the towel up under your arms. There's already almost enough there to need coverage.? She was staring at my puffy chest. ?Don?t remind me,? I grumbled nervously. ?This was hard to believe when it was only talk. Now it's happening and my identity is disappearing! Where are my PJs?? ?Right there on the bed,? she pointed to a long shimmering nightgown and full-cut nylon panties. ?You're kidding, right?? ?No, you can't keep wearing your old briefs and T?s anymore.? ?Why not?? Damn it, don't bother to answer that. I?ll just go without!? I grinned evilly. ?Not a chance, dear, ? maybe later.? The glimmer in her eyes squelched my resistance. The thin white panties felt weird. They were loose in the butt and snug at the waist with no fly, of course, and felt weird when the thin fabric flattened into my crotch without much resistance by my vastly diminished man parts. The nightgown was almost ankle length and sleeveless, with a low cut V-neck, and trimmed generously with white lace. The silken material actually felt nice against my tender nipples which puffed out against the sheer bodice. I felt ridiculous, but was too exhausted to care about anything but getting some rest. I was probably asleep before my head hit the pillows. A few more bouts of purging made for a restless night, punctuated by a few decent hours of semi-fitful sleep. Loren woke me when she rolled over to give me a gentle good morning hug. But she abruptly jerked away and jumped from the bed with an astonished expression of wide-eyed disbelief. When I rolled over to ask her what was wrong several sensations hit me all at once. I was drenched in sweat, the thin nightgown and cotton sheets plastered to my skin, and damp hair in my eyes. My nipples were extremely sore and something substantial shifted on my chest (actually two somethings). There was a dull throbbing discomfort deep in my gut, and my hips ached almost painfully. ?Oh God,? I groaned, rubbing my sore chest and finding mounds of flesh there. From their heft it felt like they had grown profusely during the night. My hair had grown at least five or six inches, and my fingernails were an astonishing inch long! ?Lord, it's happening so fast!? exclaimed my wife. ?You already look like your own sister.? About the only thing I had to be thankful for was that I didn?t feel any more of that pervasive weakness. In fact, I felt reasonably alert and refreshed. Although that could have been considered a liability in my case, since it was woefully easier to notice all the other stuff. I had to pee badly, but when I crawled from the bed the damp gown wrapped around my legs and I almost tripped. The over-long nails scratched and gouged when I urgently struggling out of the sweat-soaked nightgown and panties. But Loren?s observation was confirmed by what I had already seen and felt. The growing flesh on my chest literally bounced when I moved, and my manly parts were almost gone. In the bathroom there was so little of my former self left between my legs that I was forced sit, then pat myself dry. Because of all that sweat I was chilled to the bone, and another shower was very appealing. Loren appeared while I was struggling to adjust the water temperature with those damnable nails. ?How about a nice warm soak in the tub? It will feel wonderful, I promise,? she urged. ?But I haven't taken a bath in years.? The pain in my throat was gone, with only a little scratchiness in my voice, which was much softer and at least an octave higher as well. She stared back at me with those puppy dog eyes that I could never resist. ?Trust me darling, you'll love it.? She switched the controls off and began filling the separate tub, adding a generous dose of floral scented bubble bath and oils. I groaned with resignation as the sweet fragrance permeated the air. Loren?s expression was a strange mixture of alarm, curiosity, and concern. ?If I hadn't seen it I wouldn't have believed that it could happen so fast. You even sound different.? ?Imagine how I feel? We came here with the