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Introduction:

Paul

"Are you sure about this?" asked Quince.

"Enough to know we have a severe security breach." The other man was small and wiry. He wore an ill-fitting suit and was carrying a folder. From the folder he produced several photographs.

Quince scanned each one. They clearly showed one of his security guards, Jeff Stockwell, in a bar with another man. "Do we know who this other guy is, Simonds?"

"He's a cop. We don't know if Stockwell is a cop as well or just an informant." replied Simonds.

"Damn. How much do they know?"

"Not enough to move against us yet, obviously. But it's only a matter of time. We should use this time to destroy any evidence and get out while we can."

Quince sat down behind his desk. He was quiet for several moments. Simonds knew better than to disturb him. Finally, Quince said, "Maybe we could remove Stockwell from the scene."

"The second he disappears, this place will be raided. You know that." Simonds replied in a perplexed voice.

"Not if he doesn't disappear."

Simonds shook his head. "Now you've lost me."

Quince smiled as he got up and headed to the door. "Come on, I'll let you in on a little secret."


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A sharp, pounding headache drew Jeff back to consciousness. It took him several long minutes to gather his wits. He was lying on a bare concrete floor in a small room. It had no window and only one dim lightbulb.

How had he gotten there? He sorted his memories into some kind of order. He had been going back to the cheap room he was living in during this operation. Someone had been there, and had jumped him when he had entered.

Had his cover been blown? If it had, the question was what would Quince do with him. He struggled upright, and examined the door. It was a very solid wooden door, and even his strength wouldn't budge it. All he could do was wait and hope that there was some opportunity he could exploit.

Outside the door, three figures were standing. "Okay, let's do it."

Simonds said, "I still think we could do with some more men. Stockwell is as strong as an ox."

Quince smiled. "I think Bill will be able to handle him. Open the door."

Simonds unbolted the door and drew it open.

Jeff looked up to see Quince and Simonds standing in the room beyond, but his attention was rapidly drawn to the far larger figure standing between them in front of the door. It was a heavily-muscled, black man with Jeff's face!

He was frozen with shock. The other man took the advantage and grabbed Jeff, dragged him out of the room, forced him face down on the floor and twisted Jeff's arm behind him to make sure he couldn't get up.

Jeff was in no position to try to get up; he was far too shocked. Where could they have found someone who was absolutely identical to him? It was impossible!

Quince almost laughed. He had gotten his tame doctor to make a DNA-altering virus based on Jeff, and injected it into Bill. It had taken the better part of several hours to convince the bald, white guard that it was safe. Now, Bill was an exact copy of Jeff. Quince waved Simonds over, "Quickly, the syringe!"

Simonds carefully removed the syringe from the case he had been holding tightly in his hands. The last thing he wanted was to accidentally inject himself with it. He jabbed it inexpertly into Jeff's arm. Quickly, he injected the syringe's clear contents into Jeff. He stood back and nodded to Quince.

"Okay, Bill, you can stand back now," Quince said calmly, despite the excitement he felt.

The guard released Jeff and stepped away from his twin.

Jeff didn't know why he had been released, but he decided to make the best of it. He struggled to his feet, and was about to make a break for it when the strangest feeling overcame him. The arm which had been injected felt different somehow. He held out the arm in front of him and his heart hammered with the shock of what he saw.

It was shrinking! The well-defined muscles were just vanishing. What had they injected into him? He brought his new, much smaller hand closer. It hadn't just shrunk. It had been altered.

The skin on the arm, while still brown, was a shade or two lighter than it should have been. The hand itself was refined and much smaller than his other hand, as if the bone structure had shrunk as well.

The area of strangeness was still spreading. He felt the feeling of alteration enter his left shoulder and start spreading across his upper body. Jeff was near to total panic. Was he dying?

Then he felt his neck being rearranged. It, too, was becoming slender and losing most of the muscles around it. "What have you done to me?" cried Jeff, but his voice was no longer his own. Instead of the bass rumble he had been used to since adolescence, he now had a high, feminine pitched voice. He looked back at his changed hand. It hadn't shrivelled. It was a woman's hand. Somehow, whatever they had injected into him was turning him female.

The virus worked its way up into his head, and he could feel long, curly hair spilling onto his shoulders. The rate of change was speeding up now. Under his T-shirt appeared two bumps, quickly multiplying in size. He slapped his hands over them in a desperate effort to stop them growing, as if he could push the lumps back into himself. His breasts started to hurt from the pressure of his hands, which were almost enveloped in the soft flesh he was acquiring. His mind struggled to comprehend what was happening. He had tits, huge and heavy. He closed his eyes and tried to make them go away by sheer will power, but he could still feel his large, jiggling breasts hanging from his chest.

By now, the virus was reaching his crotch, and Jeff forgot all about the mammaries he had grown. He thrust his hand into his pants but it was already too late. The anatomy that greeted his hand was familiar, but he had never expected to find it on himself. He had a pussy! His cock and balls were gone. As he searched for any sign of his former maleness, his hips widened into a shape designed for childbirth. Jeff started whimpering in absolute shock and slowly collapsed to the floor.

Quince had watched Jeff's transformation from a burly guard to a well-stacked slut with quiet fascination. No one would believe that the beautiful girl had ever been anything other than female. Quince had not been convinced that the virus could work on a human without killing him. Now he had seen it in action twice, and he knew it was safe. Dr. Kingston still had no way to reverse the process, and he was unsure if he could ever find one. Quince had had to lie to Bill before the guard had agreed to take Jeff's place. It had also taken a large sum of money that Quince had absolutely no intention of paying.

He walked over to the shivering woman. He crouched beside her and grabbed her face. Her eyes were filled with pure terror. "This is what I do to people who betray me," he told her. "You're going back in your room for the night, and tomorrow you'll give me details of exactly what you've been up to. If you don't tell me the whole truth, you're going to be stuck in that bitch's body for the rest of your life."

She didn't resist as he helped her up and put her back in the bare room. Quince knew that she was probably in deep shock, and probably wasn't even able to remember her own name at that moment. He hoped that by the morning, she would have recovered enough to be interrogated.

In the room, Jeff sat in a corner listening to the sound of her gasps. Even they sounded feminine. A part of her was screaming that this was only a dream, that she was still male. But, deep down, she knew that was no longer true.

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