My Unwanted Transition

Prologue.

My name is Jason, or at least it was. Eighteen months ago, I began to have strange pains, and for six months, no doctor could tell me what was wrong. The pains grew worse over time, and it felt like my body was going to twist itself apart. That ache was all over like my bones themselves were breaking apart inside of me. Then about a year ago, I was referred to a specialized team. They didn't tell me what kind of team it was, but I, nor my parents pressed it too much as we were willing to try anything at that point.

The new, unique team as they were called ran many tests on me. They did bloodwork, scans, therapy, almost anything you could think of. While waiting to hear back from them, my symptoms continued to get worse. The little bit of muscle tone I had, softened up, and it wasn't much to start with. Of course, the pain continued, coming in rolling waves throughout the day and even waking me up at night. My interest in having a sexual relationship with my girlfriend diminished. In fact, my interest in even masturbating diminished. There was also a rather weird symptom as well. The hair along my body lightened up and became thinner, and my facial hair slowed on growing in. That part I didn't mind too much.

On the day the call from the team finally came in, they didn't give us any answers over the phone. Instead, they wanted us to come in to meet with them in person. It was nerve-wracking that they wanted us to come in person and wouldn't give any information on the phone. The day after, we met with them in person. No amount of preparation could have prepared me or possibly any other person for what they said. I was diagnosed with a freak genetic disorder that causes mutations in DNA. It apparently started when I entered puberty and had slowly developed inside of my body as I grew older until it reached its critical stage. That was just the beginning of it.

The mutated DNA had seized most of my body at that point, and they said that there was nothing they could do to reverse it. They placed a very lengthy document in front of us which outlined the procedure they had come up with in order to save my life. They explained that if I left the mutations unchecked that it would cause my organs to malfunction, and I would die in less than a few years.

We started down the paper, listening to the explanation on the procedure. It all sounded like some sort of weird, creepy movie or even like some kind of hentai. My body was being mutated into a female; they told us. How in the world was something like that possible? My body wasn't going to be able to handle such a mutation since I was too old now. This procedure of theirs was going to help with the transformation, as they called it. Somehow, they convinced me to agree to this, and my parents were very supportive, thankfully. Even after their lengthy explanation, I still didn't fully understand what was going to happen. I just knew that I didn't want to die.

I was in the facility for months. The same team supervised the entire procedure as they brought in specialists from different fields to handle their part of the operation. It was a blur to me. I just remember many people coming in and out and being rolled around to different rooms before being put to sleep. On the last part of the procedure, I was told it could be dangerous, but that they were confident in a positive result. Once again, they put me to sleep, and I was under for hours they told me. Many things had to be done to complete the procedure. I didn't wake until a week later.

That was two months ago now, and after weeks of rehab, I am finally home. Everything is different now. I look at the world differently, and the world looks at me differently. This was also the start of my last month being home before I had to go back to work. But, I was I supposed to go back to work now? I'm a cashier at a grocery store, and I worked with my coworkers for a couple of years now, and I know my customers, but not like this.

The procedure was very successful and the first of its kind. I was a crowning achievement in the medical field. I was born a male and lived twenty years of my life as such. Now, I am a female, both inside and out. It wasn't just a sex change operation, but they utilized the mutating DNA to do a complete change. My bones were softened over time, and they managed to widen my hips some to support all the proper female workings. Once there was sufficient space, ovaries formed, along with fallopian tubes. They were already starting to grow, which was the cause of some of the pain I was experiencing then. My male genitalia was removed, and they created space for a vagina. Again, my body started to naturally produce growth for it once space was made and the team helped it along.

The hormone supplements balanced my body further and stimulated the growth of breasts and my hair. My features softened even further, and my feet even shrunk some. The pain was gone now, and I didn't feel like I was dying anymore, but I didn't know how I was going to live as a girl.

Day 1. Adjusting and challenges.

This was my first full day home, free of therapy and hormone supplements. I woke up about an hour ago, and I just found myself lying in bed, not wanting to get up. My room was filled with stuff from my life, from movie and gaming posters to figures and consoles and other things from my life as a male. My clothing and shoes didn't fit anymore. Everything was too big for my new smaller, slender body. I had my current shorts tied to keep them from falling down.

"I'm never gonna get used to this," I mumbled to myself.

I sat up and immediately felt the weight of my breasts. They weren't huge or anything, but it was definitely not what I was used to. The team had done my measurements before I left for home to make the transition a little easier. My new breasts were "B" cups. I pulled myself from the bed and walked to the mirror. A stranger looked back at me. It wasn't me, but a girl. The new me, I sighed. My face was soft and smooth now, my hair down to my shoulders. Underneath of my t-shirt, there were two soft mounds of flesh. I lifted my shirt and brought my breasts into view. I disliked them for being attached to me, for taking over my body, but still, they were sexy. My formerly plain nipples were now well defined, and both of them hardened against the chilly, room air.

Next, I untied my shorts and slid them down. I waited for the waistband to snag my penis some, but that moment didn't come. Except for some pubic hair, everything was smooth between my legs now. I took a few minutes and looked over my new body, getting used to the weight and feel of it as I was forced to start this new life as a girl.

I made my way to the bathroom and instinctively raised the toilet seat. My hands quickly pulled the front of my shorts down before I remembered that I wouldn't be able to pee like that anymore. Instead, I pulled my shorts down and took a seat. The feeling was incredibly weird. Not only the sitting part, but there were new muscles involved as well. I finished my business and went on to the next new task of having to wipe.

Even taking a shower was a brand new experience. My body was smooth; I had curvy hips and long hair. I never imagined that something so simple could suddenly be filled with so many obstacles. Washing my hair was a challenge now. It was long and thick and took a great effort to lather the shampoo through it; rinsing it wasn't easy either. I felt like I would never get all of the shampoo out of it. When I thought the challenge was over, it was just beginning. No amount of effort with the towel seemed to get my hair dry, and it finally dawned on me why girls always wrapped a towel around their head. I retrieved another towel, and with some practice, I managed to get it tied around my hair.

The last real challenge of the day was having my mom help comb and fix my hair. My attempt at brushing and combing was met with a disaster of tangles. She tried to show me how to brush through to get the tangles out. I took the comb and started from the root and made a long pass, all the way down until the comb went off the tip of my hair. I continued the process on repeat with the rest of my hair while my mom watched.

Day 2. More challenges and clothes shopping.

We were still in the process of working out an accommodation with my job and in the meantime, I was trying to figure a way to adjust to my new life. We had met with human resources at my job's corporate office and provided them with documentation of my procedure. Lucky for me, they understood my reluctance to return to the same store location now that I was a girl. The delay in returning to work proved to be beneficial to me as I wasn't prepared to go back to a social life yet. Of course, there was the mental aspect, but I also didn't have clothes that fit anymore.

When we arrived at the store, I realized that this was my first real time being outside of the house since being transitioned into a girl. My current clothes barely fit anymore. My shirt and pants were loose since the shape and size of my body had changed so dramatically. My sneakers were too big as well. My feet were smaller and more slender.

I followed my mom around the store as we browsed the woman's sections. I felt completely out of place in this department. There were bras, panties, dresses and so many other articles of clothing that I never knew existed. The cart started to fill with various items, with my mom picking stuff out for me. Each time she had me go to the fitting room, and I tried things on. Before long, I had bras, panties, jeans, sneakers, whatever "flats" are and even heels. My mom either really enjoyed shopping, or she was happy that I was a girl now.

"Do we really need all of this stuff?" I complained.

My mom turned to look at me, and I guess that she saw the upset expression on my face, because she moved closer to console me.

"This is a lot for you to adjust to, I know honey. And I know you didn't ask for any of this, but I at least want to provide you with everything you need. We can get stuff that isn't so girly if you want as well."

We continued to shop, moving more toward things that I would prefer to wear. As I picked out things like jeans and t-shirts that didn't hug my body, my mom picked out stuff of the feminine variety. Some hours later when we seemed to be finished, the cart was filled with all kinds of clothing. We carried it all back to the car, and I switched shoes right away, slipping on a pair of sneakers that fit better.

If felt good to be back home and I just left all of the clothes in the bags while I took a little nap. It felt weird being in public as a girl and it took a lot of energy to get used to the change. I woke up about an hour later and started to sort through the many clothes and bags. One article after another I pulled from the bags and put away. It became a long process as I realized that I would have to start getting rid of my former clothes. My closet and drawers emptied of my old stuff and were slowly replaced with stuff for my new life.

When I finally finished putting everything away, it was time for dinner. I ate quietly and tried to avoid too much conversation. My parents didn't bother me too much either. I guess they were giving me time to adjust. After dinner, I went right back to my room and watched television until I fell asleep.

Day 3. Return to work.

The sound of my alarm clock broke the peaceful silence in my room and abruptly woke me from the good sleep I was having. I lied there for a few minutes before finally pulling myself out of bed so that I could get ready to go to work. I didn't actually have to work until next month when my medical release was up, but human resources wanted to meet with me to discuss being transferred to another location.

I showered and dried off, then commenced fighting with my long, thick hair. It was still a struggle trying to get it dry and to comb it properly. After I had managed to brush the tangles out, I started to look through my dresser which was now filled with girly clothes. Hesitantly, I pulled out a pair of panties and a bra. I tossed them over to the bed and rummaged for a pair of socks. My mom had bought me girl socks, with different colors and designs, and knee high stockings as well. I looked over at my new assortment of footwear and decided that the flats would have to work today since I didn't want to wear sneakers to a meeting and I wasn't going to wear heels. With that decided, I figured that I might as well wear the stockings too.

I sat on the bed and slipped the stockings on first, still not used to the thought of wearing a bra and panties. The stockings fit tightly around my legs and felt soft and cool on my skin. Time ticked on, and my mom called out to me that we would have to leave soon to make it to the meeting on time. It came to mind that I did have boxer shorts still, so I went back to digging through my drawer and pulled out a pair. I pulled them on, and before I could even move, they started to slide back down. My frame was thinner now as a girl, and I felt derpy for thinking it would work. Back to the bed, I took the boxers and dropped them right in the trash, then proceeded to put the panties on. As I slid them in place around my hips, it hugged me so firmly all the way around. It felt weird as I expected, but I figured that I might as well get used to it.

Next was the bra. The straps went around both of my arms, and I pulled it up to my breasts so that I could hook it. Somehow I managed to get the hooks on pretty quickly, and I could feel the bra holding my breasts in place. I brought my hands up and moved them around to get used to the feeling. The rest of my outfit consisted of a button blouse and dress pants, with the pair of flats. I combed my hair once more and tied it back neatly like my mom had shown me. Before leaving, I looked at myself in the mirror to make sure that I looked decent. Surprisingly, I found that I did look a little good, even though I still hated the change.

The meeting with human resources was just as annoying as I expected. My mom waited outside while I met with him. He greeted me with a handshake, which was the first time I really felt that my male strength had diminished. The power in my grasp wasn't like it had been before when I was a guy. I followed him to his office, and he gestured for me to go in first. As I went in and stopped by the chair, I thought I saw him from the corner of my eye, looking at my butt. It was a feeling that I never thought I would have, being checked out like that. It suddenly came to mind about all of the girls I checked out. I felt bad about it now, but I didn't have time to dwell on it at the moment.

"Okay, so we can get right down to it. I wanted to meet with you today so that we can make your transition back into work as easy as possible for you. I know that you and your family have kept me well informed about your progress through this tough time. I can't even begin to imagine the experience that you've been through with this. Before we start, I just wanted to clarify your preference going forward. If I understood correctly, you want to go by the name Jenny now, is that right?"

"Yes, it's Jenny now," I answered. There was a slight chill in my body when he said my new name. It was the first time someone aside from my parents had called me by it, well, except for the doctors.

"Okay, Jenny." He smiled. "I just want to ask some questions and then go on to tell you about some of the things we have done to try and ease this process. I also want to give you a chance to ask questions or express any concerns that you have. This is really a new process for any of us here. We do have individuals that work for us who are in transition, but never a case like yours."

The meeting carried on with him doing most of the talking and asking questions. Some of them were related to work capabilities and some to privacy. He explained which store I would be working at and that no one in the store was told about my situation. The only thing anyone knew was that I was transferring from another location.

Week 2. Getting the hang of it.

I was starting the second week of my new life and I still very much disliked the change, but at least I was getting used to doing things as a girl. There was still a long way to go, though. The hardest thing I had overcome so far was my hair. I had gotten used to combing, brushing and keeping it from getting tangled. Wearing a bra and panties was still a work in progress as well. Like the first week home, I spent most of my time inside, except for the one day I went grocery shopping with my mom.

I spent more time organizing my new clothes and removing clothes I wouldn't be able to wear anymore. The old clothing was bagged up so that we could donate it. My shoes had grown in numbers, which I suppose made me fit right in as a girl. I had two pairs of boy sneakers, and now I had a pair girl sneakers, flats, heels and low cut boots.

As part of my transition and medical check ups, I had to keep a journal of any changes I noticed. I had noted that there was a change in my appetite. Not too much, but I was eating a little less than I used to. The rest of my notations were just my feelings on new things I had to do as a girl, like getting used to lingerie.

By the end of the week, I had finished clearing out old clothes and moving the new stuff into their proper places. I looked through them and started to one by one try on things I hadn't worn yet. I pulled out a pair of the jeans my mom had gotten for me and slid them on. They were tight and form fitting, hugging my thighs, butt, and hips. I looked at myself in the mirror, and at my shape, with the way, the jeans hugged me. Next, I tried a skirt and even the heels. I took a couple steps and almost lost my balance before I managed to grab the dresser for support. Again, I started to move, this time slower and I managed to go in a circle around the room. I figured that was enough of that for one day.

Week 3. Learning my new body.

I had been home for three weeks now, and I had noticed that hair was growing in on my legs and underarms. It wasn't something I had ever given much thought to as a guy. For the first few days I still didn't care much, but for some reason, I didn't like the feel of having hair in those places.

For the first time, I left the house on my own and took a walk down to the pharmacy store. I wore a simple t-shirt and jeans, with sneakers. It took a few blocks to get used to the jeans hugging my body. At the store, I looked around and made my way to the shaving needs. I hadn't actually shaved much as a guy since my facial hair never really grew in. There were tons of different products, so I picked out a pack of razors and some shaving cream.

The next morning, during my routine shower and maintenance, I proceeded to shave, starting with my legs. I coated each leg in the shaving cream and carefully ran the blade along until I felt that I had gotten them smooth once again. Next, I did my underarms, then showered. After the shower, I double checked to make sure I had done an adequate job. My legs were smooth and had a shine to them. I disliked it, but I was somehow happy with the job I did.

On Friday night, I turned in to bed early, feeling a little more tired than usual. I noted the tiredness in my journal and went to sleep. I slept very well, and my dreams became erotic. My girlfriend was in them, who I hadn't seen in a long time and had been avoiding since coming home. She undressed me and kissed along my body as she moved down. I felt myself getting hard, and she took me in her hand and started to suck. I reached for her head as I felt her lips gliding along. She moved back up and put me inside of her, working her hips up and down and around. I felt myself quickly building into an orgasm.