If you’ve ever had a moment in your life when just a couple of hours ago you finished the most difficult secret mission of your life — the kind where you weren’t just promised a promotion, but a complete wipe from every database, a new identity, and a chance to start from zero — and you, tired but still tense, return to a safe apartment where every item has been checked, every corner calculated, and you go to take a shower, casually pulling out from a wall cabinet an unremarkable unmarked vial, the very one your handler told you about — “the final step, Ethan, and you no longer exist” — and then, standing in the shower, you realize something is wrong, because for some reason you suddenly have tits, then you’ll probably understand, at least for a second, exactly what I felt in that moment.
Hot water lashed over my shoulders, washing away the remnants of nanites which, just as expected from those who had done their job, were seeping out all over my body, leaking through my pores like sweat and turning into something like foam that appears when you wash, while I stared at the small vial with murky yellow liquid clutched in my fingers and tried, with a growing sense of some quiet, cold horror, to make out the label through the streams of water running over the plastic.
— …not the right one… — I exhaled, and my own voice, breaking higher than it should, as if someone had subtly twisted a dial, sounded in the enclosed shower space too thin, too… wrong.
I took a heavy breath and tried to clear my throat, but instead of the usual rough sound, some soft, almost muffled exhale slipped out, something that sounded less like clearing my throat and more like… damn it, like I had just moaned from sudden pleasure.
— Fuck... — I said more quietly, pressing my palm to my throat and feeling how smooth my skin was there now, and that my Adam’s apple was gone. There wasn’t even a hint of anything masculine.
The water kept pouring down from above, running along the new curves of my body, gathering in the hollow between my breasts and flowing further, over a flat stomach, over wide hips, over smooth, now completely female crotch. I lowered my gaze and saw my nipples tighten even more under the hot streams. They were large, light pink, sensitive to the point of trembling. As soon as the water hit them directly, a sharp, sweet wave ran down my spine that made my knees buckle slightly.
The vial slipped in my hand.
I caught it with my other hand, but my fingers had already become thinner, more delicate, with short, neat nails that used to be bitten down and covered in calluses from weapons. The vial almost slipped again, and I instinctively pressed it to my chest — to my new, heavy tits. The cold plastic touched a hot nipple, and I couldn’t hold it back — a real, quiet moan escaped my throat, high and trembling.
— A-ah… — it sounded like I was fucking myself with my voice. I immediately covered my mouth with my hand, but even that movement came out too feminine: my fingers landed softly, my wrist bent gracefully, like a girl trying to hide embarrassment.
— No… — I exhaled through my fingers, pulling my hand away from my face and immediately feeling how the damp skin on my lips, now noticeably fuller, reacted to the air differently, more sensitively, as if even breathing had become something more tangible.
I closed my eyes. Damn it. Ethan. How the hell could you be this careless at the most critical moment? Why did you, a man who survived for years by noticing even the smallest finger movements of a target… just grab a vial like some idiot who doesn’t care what he’s pouring over himself?
— Because I was sure, — I said quietly to myself, almost automatically, like I was breaking down the situation in a briefing. — Because I trust my handlers… fuck, trusted.
The voice decided to mock me again — I can’t call it anything else, because the last words came out not angry at all, but plaintive, with a slight tremble at the end, like I was about to cry. I opened my eyes and stared at the vial again. “only fem”. The yellow-golden liquid was still inside, although now it was just regular shower gel, because all the nanites from it I had poured over myself like a complete idiot… or, I guess now it’s more accurate to say “idiot girl”?
— Shit... — I forced out, turning my back to the stream, because I couldn’t take those sensations anymore from the thin streams hitting my nipples, feeling like every second I was getting micro electric shocks
The water immediately struck between my shoulder blades, ran down my spine, wrapped around my waist and spread over my new, rounded ass. I instinctively arched, and the movement came out too smooth, too feminine.
I knew. I knew perfectly well there was no way back, and no second chance to use ultra-secret nanites for transformation either. Or rather, maybe there was, but it was a huge risk where with a 99% chance I wouldn’t survive the second transformation. The body just wouldn’t handle another rebuild at the cellular level.
— Fuck… — I exhaled, pressing my forehead against the cool tile. The voice failed again: instead of anger, it came out almost like a plaintive purr.
I stood there for a few seconds, feeling how even the water itself — or rather its streams — now felt different. Or maybe they really did feel different. It didn’t matter at that moment, because I was thinking about how my life, my dream of having a family, living somewhere quiet and being a happy father, fucking hell, a FATHER, was now crossed out forever.
— What kind of fucking father… — slipped out of me in a thin, trembling voice, and I immediately bit my now full lower lip, because even that short curse sounded like a whiny sob of an offended girl. — Now you’re going to be… a mother? Or just a whore with tits that everyone will want to touch?
From that thought, it suddenly got hot between my legs, and I involuntarily squeezed my thighs, but that only increased the pressure on my clit, and I suddenly felt sick from that emptiness that was now between my legs. But not sick because it was empty. No. I clearly wanted it to be filled.
Filled with something thick, hot, that would push in sharply and deep, stretch those new, wet walls and make me arch into a curve right here under the streams of water. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, but the image was already burned into my brain: someone’s strong hands grabbing me by my new hips, pressing me against the cold tile and driving into me all the way until I start screaming in a high, breaking voice.
— Fuck… what the hell is happening to me… — slipped out of me, and I abruptly turned on the cold water.
It helped.
Damn it. What the hell was that?
Cold water hit my skin sharply, almost painfully, and I shuddered all over, feeling my nipples instantly tighten into hard peaks, my skin covered in goosebumps, and between my legs it became cold and empty.
— This isn’t just a transformation… — I muttered, forcing my breathing to steady, making myself speak evenly, not like… not like some scared and horny girl. — This is… behavioral programming?
Yeah. Makes sense. It was very logical, even though I was sure nanites didn’t affect behavior, but “yes”, damn it. Yes.
God, I hope this was all just temporary insanity… I really hope so.