Remote Control
Keywords: Remote, Control,
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"WARNINGS: Contains transgender themes, Sci-Fi, explicit sex, mild violence, bad words, and strange ideas. It has only the strange things that dribble from my head. If you are not old enough, mature enough, open minded enough, and especially not smart enough to stop reading should you find yourself becoming offended viewing such a story, don't!
I hereby grant permission to post this story, make it available for download, or send it to a one or more of your kinky friends, as long as I am given credit for it and no monetary profit is made from it without sharing it with me. (I'm not greedy, but I did write it.)"
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"Well hello there, little missy," was the first thing I heard, only as a disembodied voice.
"This is going to be so much fun! I realize that you are still quite heavily medicated but here it is in a nutshell... I have transformed you from a big strong man into a helpless and weak little woman with shall I say, many entertaining attributes, which will reveal themselves at the proper time. So lay there feeble and pathetic and enjoy the ride sissy!" the sexy feminine voice informed me and then she cackled like a fairy tale witch.
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The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a hospital room with a very sexy looking nurse holding my hand.
"Oh sweetie, I'm so glad you are awake," the nurse said.
"Wha..." I croaked.
"It's all right hon., don't try to talk. You were found on the hospital's doorstep in pretty rough shape," she told me.
"Apparently some surgery was done to you and you seemed to be a bit malnourished as well," she continued. "Don't worry about a thing though, you are alright now. We'll take good care of you."
What the hell was she talking about? The last thing I can remember is coming out of my new apartment in downtown Seattle. I was on my way to get another load of furniture from my car... then I am here with this fruitcake nurse calling me, sweetie?
"It's a good thing you had your purse with you or we wouldn't have had any Idea who you were or anything else about you, Diane," the fruitcake nurse said.
"Who the Fuck is Diane?" I croaked.
"Oh dear, oh uh... well you are Diane, Miss," the fruitcake nurse told me, "Uh... I'll be right back. I have to consult with your Doctor for a minute. You just rest there and stay calm."
Me, stay calm? She's the one sounding all excited. I could hear her rush out of the room, while I slipped back into the welcoming arms of unconsciousness.
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"There, she's coming around again," said the deep masculine voice. "Hi there, Diane. It's nice to finally see you opening those lovely green eyes, by yourself."
"Why the hell is everybody calling me, Diane?" I mumbled.
"Because my dear, that's what your driver's license say's your name is," said the man's voice.
"Whatever my license might say, my name is Howard. Additionally, why does my whole body hurt?" I asked, still not opening my eyes more than what was necessary to be able to see shadows. It was just too darn bright in here.
"Well Diane... Uh... Howard, you have had some rather extensive surgery done to you, that's why your body hurts, as to why we don't call you Howard, well... since I have examined you, very thoroughly I might add, I find that most people named Howard, do not have ovaries, or a uterus!" the Doctor assured me.
"Ovaries... Uterus... I don't..." I fell unconscious again.
**********
My eyes opened, and I surveyed my surroundings. I was in your run of the mill hospital room. I seemed to have an IV in my arm and there was a machine beeping in rhythm with my heartbeat.
My door was open and curtained, and just as I noticed that, said curtain swung open quite suddenly as I watched.
"Ah, you look so much better today," the fruitcake nurse, told me perkily.
I was still taking in my surroundings when she grabbed my wrist to take my pulse.
"Oh my dear God!" I said, noticing just how small and frail my wrist looked, even compared to the pretty nurse's small hands.
"Your pulse is normal and strong. How are you feeling?" she asked.
"What did you people do to me?" I screeched the beeping becoming quite a bit faster suddenly.
"Why, WE have done nothing to you, but nurse you back to health. We discovered you on our doorstep, obviously having undergone a lot of surgery. You looked as though you had just been wheeled out of an operating room and then dumped in the hallway outside of our emergency room. So what WE did to YOU is HEAL YOU UP and SAVE YOUR LIFE," she informed me, sounding rather indignant.
"My wrist is so small and my voice... I sound like a... a... a girl," I softly said, the beeping not slowing one bit.
"I don't know how to break it to you, but honey, you are a girl. Moreover, by everything we have been able to determine you always were a girl. For instance, last week while you were still pretty out of it, you menstruated," she insisted, her attitude softening a little.
"Menstruated? A period? Only girls have periods..." I was still pretty dopey, but this just can't be!
"That's a fact. So, why do you keep insisting you are someone named, Howard?" she asked me, her small feminine fists planted on her hips.
"My name IS Howard Samuels. I'm a College student at the University of Washington. I just started my freshman year," I informed her.
"I'm glad to meet you Howard although, I am curious as to where you got these lovely breasts? Boobs-R-Us?" she quipped and squeezed my heretofore-unnoticed baseball sized boob.
"That feels... weird, what the hell...? Do that again?" I asked, half stunned, half excited.
She gave me a lengthy grope in answer to which I released a long, low, blissful moan.
"How was that honey, bring anything back?" she asked.
"Oh God, that felt wonderful! That's the first time I've felt anything like that... ever," I had my head back and my eyes closed, panting, and licking my lips, enjoying the feelings she had evoked, with the machine beeping frantically in the background.
When I opened my eyes, I saw the fruitcake nurse's eyes grow to the size of quarters rather rapidly and then she pressed my call button and another nurse popped her head into my room.
"Get Doctor Burnheart! I think she really was a man," her voice had grown high and excited.
"No shit!" the other nurse said, as she bolted off to get the Doctor.
"When you showed up here the ID you had, indicated that your name is Diane Toyavich. Things for now would be simpler if I can call you Diane or do you still insist that I call you Howard?" she asked a distasteful look on her face indicating her preference.
"You keep squeezing my boobs like that and you can call me slut. That was soooo good," I closed my eyes remembering the feel of her hand.
"I was ah... just hoping to shock you out of your delusion. I didn't mean to, ah... make a lesbian come on to you or anything," she stammered, beet-red faced and embarrassed.
"Are you sure you won't do it again? Maybe it will work after a few more tries," I begged.
"Not a chance. You like it to much," she stroked my face, looking into my bewildered eyes.
"Does it feel that good to all women when someone does that to their boobs?" I asked her, recognizing by her manner that she cared and wanted to help.
"I can't speak for all women, but yeah, it feels that good to me when someone does that to my boobs," she admitted tweaking my nose and smiling at me.
"I think I might have wet the bed," I told her, my face red with shame.
"You couldn't... ah, you have a catheter in your... ah vagina," she assured me, puzzled that I would not recognize what had happened.
"Then why do I feel all, uh... wet, you know down there?" I asked her, glancing at my crotch to indicate what I meant.
"I'll check," she promised, although she seemed fairly certain what she would find.
I could feel her lift the covers, my gown, and she spread my legs slightly to check me out, "It seems, ah... that you are just... sexually excited. Don't worry it was quite a normal reaction to being fondled. That's what we women do when we're turned on, we start to lubricate our vaginas."
"Vagina? How can that be? No one can change a man into a woman. They can only make men into, ah... something that looks like a woman. Are you sure that I've got ovaries?" I asked, traumatized to have been included in the, 'we women' explanation and the accusation that I have a vagina.
"Oh yes, you ovulated and had a period. Those men, who have had that, ah... operation you mentioned can't do that. That's why we thought you were just a woman who had been traumatized," she claimed, clearly uncomfortable but staying with me and holding my hand persistently. "I had better leave anything else for the Doctor to explain."
A few minutes later, the curtain swung open again and a woman Doctor poked her head in, "Maggie, I see you have our prize patient well in hand," she said to the fruitcake nurse.
Nurse Maggie stood and motioned the Doctor over toward the window and had a quick whispered consultation.
"No kidding?" the Doctor asked a little too loudly.
Nurse Maggie nodded her head, after saying, "Shhh."
They both came back over to me.
"Hi, I'm Doctor Betty Burnheart. Maggie here tells me that you have never had your breasts stimulated before. Is that true?" she asked, standing by my bed, clipboard in hand.
"Not until about ten minutes ago I hadn't," I claimed, "but I sure did like it! You can give them a squeeze too, if you'd like," I smiled hopefully up at the sexy Doctor.
"Interesting. She says that she believed you. Not because of what you said, but by how you reacted. From what I just heard, I think we'll try something else. Have you felt anything like this before?" she reached her hand underneath the sheets and I felt her finger slip into my body in a way that was utterly impossible. Then she touched, IT!
"Oh, oh baby. That's even better than the boob thing! Ooh, ooh!" I squealed, laying limply and biting my lower lip with my eyes closed.
She stopped quickly, seemingly very startled.
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Keywords: Remote, Control,