This choice: Luke, now rechristened Leia was comforted by her fellow prisoners. • Go Back...Chapter #4Luke, now rechristened Leia was comforted by he... by: Mr. George   Leia fitted in perfectly with all the others, bemoaning a perfect previous life. She screamed denials of her own, very obvious sex, to amused laughter. She found their forced assaults humiliating, as she was groped, and teased. Made to squeal and squirm, as her over-stuffed bust was mauled, her nipples tweaked and teased... and her depths probed by eager fingers.
She shrieked about revenge, and rewards for restoration. The crew holding her prisoner were too far down the chain of command to recognise her claims of 'Luke', whoever that was, or threats of retribution. She was at their mercy, and that of her own traitorous body that denied her every word. That left her whimpering and mewling with obvious need, craving the very thing that turned her stomach.
Her future was bleak, doomed to be traded, used and abused. Her flesh, someone else's property.
- - - - -
In his former chamber, Andrew was realising the opportunity that was there. Unaware of Luke's fate, but very aware of his absence. Daring to sit in Luke's chair at the head of the table. Imagining address the lieutenants... his lieutenants! He was entirely unaware he'd put himself in the ideal spot for Dave's next shot. The crack in the window from the previous shot, letting in the least zephyr breeze. It was far too insignificant to serve as a warning.
When the nanites, reached his arm. He swatted at the pain, of whatever buzzing insect had shattered his fantasy.
Removing his hand, he was disappointed to find no swatted insect there. The idea of his reactions still abundantly human, rather than hyped up and unnatural. Only a tiny speck of blood beading there confirmed the sting, or the insect.
Andrew was unaware of his peril, as he leaned back. The nanites already spreading through his body, multiplying as they spread, until they reached a critical mass. On a shared signal, they froze Andrew in place.
He panicked at his sudden immobility, wondering if this was what a stroke felt like. He could barely breathe, his lungs seemed to work reflexively, his eyes darting to the door. Afraid of being discovered in the Boss' chair, and the certain punishment that'd bring.
Fear that it was Luke's foresight that had caught him out. Andrew fought like a cornered animal, all the while he was held utterly immobile, as frozen as a statue.
From the corner of his vision, he caught worrying glances. His skin prickled, and rippled, as he felt his internal organs shift and squirm.
Andrew couldn't even whine, or whimper as he felt his hair start to lengthen, descending down his spine, like a shock of blonde perfection.
He knew it was nanites now, and his terror spiked even higher. Still he was held utter rooted in place. Knowing the business, he was terrified how he'd be treated. The reduction from crew to product was far from rare. With the need for new girls to serve always boosting the bottom line.
He desperately wanted to shake his head in denial, as he felt the changes taking place. No hands could reach and confirm his new sex. But, he knew it was transformed. Andrew was no longer male, the only movement, was the creaking protest from his hips as they spread wider, from his rump as it swelled to feminine proportions.
Despite that, it was the surge as her bust developed that felt like the nail in the coffin of Andrew's masculinity.
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He could taste the thick lipstick that was plastered over her lips. So thick and whorish, the scent of strawberries that reached her nostrils was no surprise.
A faint grunting gasp, signalled another change. Her ribcage thinned, her shoulders narrowed, to better display the expanding bust she was developing.
Andrew still couldn't speak. But a mewling whimper came from her paralysed throat.
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No longer would he discover lipstick traces on his cock, from some eager new recruit showing her appreciation. Or pleading for his protection. Instead, she'd be the one leaving those traces. Her mouth open wide, her breathing that was choked and gagging as she hoped to 'charm' a champion to minimise her humiliation. To have her treated as special, and not just another from the general population.
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Andrew felt a tear well up in the corner of her eye. The dreams of leadership, and giving commands were gone. As unreachable as actual alien life!
She hoped against hope that she would stand out, that she was pretty, that she would be unique. Certainly the bust the filled the bottom of her vision looked impressive. She was blessed, or as the ache in her shoulders warned her, cursed. Andrew felt the enforced rigidity ease from her muscles.
He... No! She, She had to embrace this new life. She was reaching her final form, and she'd devote herself to succeeding in whatever role she earned.
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Andrew erupted from the seat, as soon as she could. Her whole body felt different, her balance was off. Those treacherous hips were too wide, that bust sent her flying, collapsing, crashing to the ground. As they sloshed heavily, the pain flaring at the impact was shocking.
Andew was horny, the spear of pain was electric, exciting her, and surprising her. Both in it's intensity and duration. She found her body responding, her fingers curious to extend this startling pleasure.
- - - - -
She was discovered with her glistening fingers buried deep inside, as she panted, "Andi... Andi... I'm Andi.... can I please you?" Her tone absolute and sincere, she begged the first man to encounter her to take her there and then. To fill her utterly, command her, and please, please allow her to serve him.... |
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