Inspired by Arisa Yoshi's comic 'Alien Abduction'.
~~~~~~~~
The rules of college life were simple: survival of the fittest. Nothing more, nothing less.
Nathan's life was just as simple: he was, without a shadow of a doubt,
the fittest
. He was the strong, handsome captain of the football team, whose abs were to die for and whose cock was the stuff of legends.
His needs were simple, too: all he needed was losers to beat, and girls to fuck.
Beating losers was easy, and all the girls who were worth fucking liked guys who beat up losers. Yes, Nathan's life was simple indeed.
It was a simple day in Nathan's simple life. He was about to beat the shit out of his favourite loser, Blake. There was no particular reason for it - he and his girlfriend simply found it amusing, and that was reason enough. He had him pinned to a wall, and was about to punch him.
Unfortunately, the universe had other plans.
Nathan couldn't really say what happened. There was a noise and a bright light, and for one unbearably long moment, it felt as though his entire being had been compressed down to a single point. He was hit by an overwhelming sensation of vertigo, then another light—
—and he was back. Only, he was somewhere else.
He was inside a large glass tube; next to him, in an identical tube, was Blake, looking every bit as confused as Nathan was.
Nathan punched the wall of his glass prison. "What the fuck!" he said. He punched again, and then a few more times, until his hand started to hurt and it became apparent that he was well and truly trapped.
Trapped in more than a glass cylinder, too. The whole room was like a prison cell, grey, featureless, and lit only by two lights on the ceiling, one in each tube. There were no doors or windows, or anything other than the tubes, which themselves were featureless too, containing nothing other than their prisoners, and connected to nothing other than the ceiling and a slightly elevated metal base.
Nathan punched the glass again in frustration. "Fuck!"
"I don't think that's helping," Blake said, his voice muffled by the glass.
"No fucking shit, brainiac!" Nathan growled. "Since you're so fucking smart, why don't
you
get us out of here?"
Blake looked like he was about to say something that Nathan would have to beat him into regretting once they got free, but he was interrupted.
"GREETINGS HUMANS," blared a loud, monotone voice. "YOU ARE CURRENTLY ABOARD AN AUTOMATED RESEARCH VESSEL. KROMAN SCIENCE REQUIRES YOUR CONTRIBUTION. PLEASE DO NOT RESIST. THE KROMAN EMPIRE THANKS YOU IN ADVANCE."
"What in the actual fuck," Nathan said.
"I think we've been abducted by—"
"CLOTHING DETECTED," blared the voice. "DISINTEGRATING CLOTHING."
Metal tendrils descended from the ceiling above Nathan, each armed with a weird probe-lens-thing. They blasted him with something, and his clothes turned to dust, which a vacuum-tendril vacuumed up. The same thing had happened to Blake, who was now trying desperately to cover up.
Despite the situation, Nathan felt a little proud; at least
his
body wasn't laughably pathetic.
"CLOTHING DISINTEGRATED," the voice blared. "INITIATING QUICK SCAN."
There was a low hum, and Nathan felt a tingle run up and down his spine and from his toes to his fingertips. After a few seconds, the tingle went away.
"ERROR," the voice blared. "NO FEMALE SUBJECT REQUIRED. CANNOT PROCEED. RECALCULATING." There was a pause. "CAUSE OF ERROR DETERMINED: TELEPORTATION TARGETING MALFUNCTION. CALCULATING SOLUTIONS." Another pause. "PROPOSAL: RETRIEVE NEW SUBJECT. EVALUATING PROPOSAL. PROPOSAL DEEMED ENERGY-INEFFICIENT. PROPOSAL REJECTED."
"What's going on?" Nathan demanded. "Hey! What's going on?"
There was no reply.
"PROPOSAL: ALTER MALE SUBJECT. EVALUATING PROPOSAL. PROPOSAL EFFICIENCY CONFIRMED. EVALUATING VIABILITY OF ANATOMICAL ALTERATIONS. PLEASE STAND BY FOR DEEP SCAN."
"What does 'anatomical alterations' mean?" Nathan banged on the glass. "Hey!"
Again, the voice did not reply. Nathan was getting increasingly worried; he didn't want to find out what a 'deep scan' was, and he
definitely
didn't want any 'anatomical alterations'.
He didn't have much time to worry about it, though. There was a whirr and a loud buzz, and his thoughts were murdered by a million billion pinpricks; it felt as though spiders were crawling all over him, climbing into his orifices and tickling his insides with their little legs. As the buzz rose in pitch, his senses abandoned him, and when they returned, he found himself leaning against the glass, panting.
"What th fuck..." he whispered, pushing himself to his feet.
"DEEP SCAN COMPLETE," the voice blared. "SUBJECT DEEMED COMPATIBLE WITH TRANSFORMATIVE COMPOUND. STAND BY FOR FEMINIZATION."
Nathan suddenly understood, and burst out laughing. "Oh my god," he said. "They're going to turn you into a
girl
!" It made perfect sense. Why had he ever been worried? Kings didn't need to worry.
"Why
me
?" Blake squealed. He'd curled up, as if trying to disappear.
Nathan laughed. "Because you're already a
sissy bitch
!" he said. "God, I can't fucking wait!" He leaned forward. "Who knows? Maybe you'll be a better girl than you are a man..."
Blake said nothing.
The silence was broken by the sound of high-tech machinery coming to life. "Here it comes," said Nathan, smiling. "Get—"
His mocking was interrupted by the feeling of something cold touching his foot. Startled, he looked down.
A pink liquid had begun filling his tube.
Nathan jumped as if he'd stepped on a hot coal. He made a desperate attempt to avoid the liquid, but that quickly became impossible; the liquid had soon filled the bottom of the tube entirely, and its level started rising at an alarming rate.
It was sticky and thick like syrup, and it caused a faint burning sensation wherever it touched, followed by a cool numbness. More and more of it was pumped into the tube, and pretty quickly, Nathan was waist-deep in it.
It was only then that he recognised the danger he was in. "Hey!" he yelled, banging on the glass. "I'm going to drown in here!" He banged harder. "Hey!"
There was a hiss, and something hit Nathan's shoulder. It was a metal mask, dangling from the ceiling on the end of a plastic tube.
"PLEASE PUT ON THE RESPIRATORY APPARATUS," the voice blared.
"Fuck that!" Nathan shouted, banging on the glass with all the strength his numb body could muster; the liquid was up to his torso now. "Let me out! Let me the fuck out!"
"SUBJECT UNCOOPERATIVE," blared the voice. "ENGAGING RESTRAINTS."
"Wha—"
Two metal tendrils shot out from the ceiling; they each wrapped around one of Nathan's wrists and pulled his hands above his head, until he was forced to stand on his tippy-toes. Two more tendrils emerged from the floor and wrapped around his ankles. The tendrils above pulled more, and he was lifted off his feet completely; just a few seconds before the liquid reached his neck, another two tendrils put the mask on him.
The liquid covered him completely, and his eyes instinctively clamped shut. The burning was much worse there, but it was quickly replaced by numbness; when he opened his eyes, everything was blurry and tinted pink.
Nathan could do nothing but scream into the mask.
Wires descended from the ceiling and attached themselves to his body with electrodes; one on each pectoral, one on each shoulder blade, one at the base of his skull, two on his stomach, one just above his tailbone, four on his outer thighs, four on his inner thighs, one on the back of each calf, one on each bicep, and one on the forearm, each one delivering a tiny electric shock as it stuck to him.
The whole time, Blake was watching - not terrified, but
fascinated
. Nathan wanted nothing more than to make the little bitch eat shit.
"INITIATING CELLULAR RESTRUCTURING," the voice blared.
The electrodes began to vibrate, and Nathan was hit by a tidal wave of nausea. A terrible heat enveloped his insides; he felt as though he might vomit his own molten flesh. Then the electrodes started delivering long, powerful jolts into him, and each one made his innards churn in new, disgusting ways, until the world faded into a blur of shapes and colours.
Nathan couldn't say how long that lasted; eventually his senses started making sense again, and he was met with Blake's curious gaze. He couldn't even feel anger, or the desire to punch; all he could feel was dread. He steeled himself, and looked down to assess the damage.
Dread quickly turned to surprise, and then relief. Nothing had actually changed. He was still a prime male specimen! Sure his body hair was missing, but he hadn't been 'feminised'! He—
"CELLULAR RESTRUCTURING COMPLETE," blared the voice. "INITIATING ANATOMICAL REMODELING."
Oh.
Nathan felt a thousand invisible hands grab his insides and
squeeze
. They began to push and pull, and Nathan felt things moving inside him, changing and settling in new places; shivers ran through his every bone, followed by a sensation almost like growing pains.
There was a pressure in his chest, and he watched in horror as it
expanded
. He felt an invisible corset tighten around his waist, and all that flesh moved downwards into his thighs and ass, while something in his hips started pushing
outwards
. Something brushed against his lower back, and it took only a small movement of his head for him to realise that it was his
hair
.
A metal cup ascended from below him with a whirr; Nathan saw it cover his cock and balls over the swell of his new breasts. It began to vibrate, and for a few seconds, he experienced what felt like the most violent blowjob of his life. There was a sudden
push
, and a brief moment of pain, and then the cup went away.
Where Nathan's magnificent cock once was, now was a feminine slit.
Before Nathan could process the terror of his loss, the voice spoke again. "ANATOMICAL REMODELING COMPLETE," it blared. "INITIATING MENTAL ALTERATIONS."
A helmet descended from the ceiling and strapped itself to Nathan's head, covering both his eyes and ears.
"No," Nathan pleaded, "no no no no—"
It hit him like a flashbang, a blinding, deafening torrent of information flowing directly into his brain. It permeated every bit of him, and he absorbed it like a sponge. For an indeterminate span of time, he was at its mercy.
And then he was back.
The pink liquid was drained out of the tube, and the electrodes detached themselves from him; the tendrils released him, and he fell on legs that could barely support his weight. Head swimming, he leaned against the glass for support.
"NATHAN ERASED," the voice blared. "WELCOME, NAOMI."
~~~~~~~~
He opened his eyes, and slowly left behind the bizarre nightmare. He was on the bed, curled up in a ball; he breathed a sigh of relief, and rolled over. His breasts wobbled as he did.
His breasts.
His
breasts. His— her— his— her? Her breasts? He - she? - had
breasts
!
Naomi jumped out of the bed in a panic. Terrified, he looked down at her body. It hadn't been a nightmare. She'd really been turned into a woman.
He'd
been turned into a woman, he reminded himself.
He
, not
she
.
'He'. The word felt alien to him. He remembered being a man, but there was a chasm between her and that version of herself, and no bridge across. 'Nathan' was the name he remembered, but 'Naomi' was the name she
knew
.
On the verge of crying, she looked—
he
looked down at his hands. They were so dainty and delicate now - a
girl's
hands, with long, slender fingers and almond-shaped nails.
He brought his hands up and hefted her breasts; they were so soft and heavy, and so, so
big
. She ran her hands down her sides and waist - such a slim, feminine waist - and over her hips - such wide, feminine hips. She cupped her ass with her palms and gave it a firm
squeeze
; her fingers sank into it, and she felt a tear run down her cheek.
His
cheek, damn it!
