Dressed for Disaster: The Prequel

A door opened, and lights were switched on to reveal what looked like an operating room. As I squinted in the painful light, a woman in a doctor's coat approached me. She looked vaguely familiar.

"Water," I croaked.

Without a word, she produced a glass of water, and I struggled to raise my head and drink it. Swallowing it all exhausted me, and I fell back onto the pillow. "Where am I?"

"Where no one will ever find you."

"Who are you? What are you doing to me?"

"I am Doctor Vendetta Frankenwiener. You may remember me as the slut you picked up at the Alley Cat bar last Saturday night."

Could it be? Could this madwoman be the girl I had conned into returning to my apartment, screwed like there was no tomorrow, and told to get out of my bed and walk home when she refused to take it up the ass?

"Your timing was unfortunate. I have been looking for the perfect subject for a little experiment. Oh, how you're going to regret they way you treated me."

"What do you mean?"

"The liquid you just drank contained a mild sedative. While it is taking effect, let me show you my progress so far." She tore back the sheet, and I gasped in horror. I had breasts, real woman's breasts, which rose magnificently as I heaved in exertion, pulling against my restraints.

"What have you done to me?"

She slid a mirror up to the side of the bed and tilted it so I could see. "Those are breast implants. A very simple procedure for a plastic surgeon, which I happen to be." Lifting my head, I could see that all of my body hair had been removed, and I panicked as I tried to see my genitals.

"Don't worry, you are still intact below the waist - for the moment. You see, those breasts will be perfectly capable of nursing a baby, once we fill you up with female hormones." She produced a hypodermic syringe, and stabbed it in one of my cheeks. "In a few seconds, your body will have more estrogen in it than the dressing room at a modeling agency."