Dream Come True - Chapter Three - by: Danielle Krieger (c) 2011 Ostracized by family and many friends, Melissa Sterling finds herself on the cold, lonely streets. Being transgendered, not many opportunities present themselves and too many people are overtly discriminatory. Like her family, the state safety net has abandoned her with no income and no health care. A modern American tragedy. In her own mind, she can't seem to catch a break and life doesn't seem worth living. That is, until fate seems to have another plan in place. In this installment, by way of a leak every news organization in the country learns that there is now a case of HTV in the United States. Melissa's transformation is in full swing and coming to a head. Plus, she gets a special visitor.

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(For the Disclaimer, see Chapter One)

A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR: Again, thank you everyone for your kind words of encouragement and all the kudos. It keeps me going. For those with questions, I hope that some of them are answered here. If not, don't fear, Chapter Four is in full swing and many more may be answered then. I can feel that this tale is going to be quite a long one. Exactly how long? I have no idea. Like BioWare says before they release a game: "When it's done, it'll be done." I hope that you've been enjoying the ride as much as I have. I'm on a roll! xD

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— Chapter Three —

The television screen revealed a familiar face. He was a man approximately in his late forties. All his hair was white, rather than gray, and he had a full head of it. Due to the framing of the camera, all that could be seen was his chocolate brown suit jacket, white button-down shirt, and blue “power tie”. He was none other than the KOMO 4 News anchorman of several years, Hal Denny. When the broadcast started, I really thought nothing of it. I was merely curious as to what was going on in the local news. Curiosity killed the cat, as they say.

A graphic filled the right side of the screen displaying “Top Story” and “Breaking News”. Right on cue, a moment after returning from the commercial break, he took a quick breath and began to speak. “In our top story tonight, we’ve been reporting on a strange occurrence. Last week, the day center for homeless women in downtown Seattle, Angeline’s, was closed down and surrounded in a police barricade. Not much was known as to why this was implemented at the center funded by the Y-W-C-A and private donations, but there was a suspected federal connection. Also, many women have been detained and cordoned off in some sections of Harborview Medical Center, Swedish Medical Center, and Virginia Mason Medical Center. This week, the Centers For Disease Control released a statement that explained some of the questions, quote: ‘We are currently investigating the transmission of a rare pathogen introduced into the homeless population of Seattle. Naturally, the environment would only encourage the spread of such a pathogen. Suspect persons have been quarantined for their own safety as well as the safety of the general public,’ unquote.” He took a quick breath. “This news station has attempted to contact the Mayor’s office and the local CDC office for comment, but were unsuccessful.

“Today, KOMO 4 News was able to shed some light on the subject. For that, we go to our correspondent, Monica Kasey.” The graphic morphed to fit both the announcer and the correspondent side-by-side in the same window. “Good evening, Monica.”

She was dressed modestly in a navy skirt suit, lavender blouse, black nylons, modest pumps, and a professional-looking overcoat. I’d always considered her very stunning. She was a junior correspondent, but I assumed that wouldn’t last very long given that she always seemed to break major stories. Being half-Asian, that was an accomplishment at American news stations. It was apparently drizzling outside, so she had both her microphone and umbrella handy. Behind her was an illuminated sign that read “Emergency” and an arrow pointing to an emergency room entrance. However, what I really noticed was the blue and white sign just above that with lettering indicating which hospital she was standing outside of. My eyes widened.

She offered a smile. “Good evening, Hal.”

“There seems to be quite a development in this story. What do you have for us?”

“As you can see, Hal, I’m standing outside of Virginia Mason Hospital and Medical Center here at Ninth Avenue and Spring Street. This is where we’ve learned that most of those women being quarantined are being kept. We’re not certain where, precisely, because the hospital staff is remaining tight-lipped about this entire development. What we do know is that this is all being orchestrated by the CDC and, as you explained, they have not been available for comment. We are being reassured that there is no clear and present danger for the citizens of Seattle, as a whole.” She read off her note card. “Today, however, we learned a piece of information that could shed some light on this topic. Through an anonymous source, we were directed to some of the hospital’s records and ran across a name that many outside a certain population may not know. The day after Angeline’s was quarantined, Dr. Abraham Carver came on duty in the trauma ward here at Virginia Mason.”

The graphic returned to the side-by-side of Hal and Monica. There was a surprised look on Hal’s face. “Would you care to explain who Dr. Carver is for the viewers who are unfamiliar with him?”

Monica nodded. “Certainly. From what we’ve uncovered, Dr. Carver is a physician from Montreal, Quebec, Canada. He is a renowned microbiologist, epidemiologist, and geneticist. What he is best known for has been his work in the past five years. He is considered North America’s foremost expert in the elusive Human Transmutation Virus, or HTV. As you know, the first recorded case of HTV came out of Hong Kong, China, about fifteen years ago. Since then, there have been cases popping up out of Japan, Indonesia, Australia, Canada, the United Kingdom, France, Germany, Italy, several ‘Eastern Block’ European countries, most of Africa, and some places in the Middle East. There have been a few cases from Central and South America, but some epidemiologists suggest that the majority of cases go unreported, so accurate numbers of cases are almost impossible. Sadly, the majority of HTV victims in the Middle East have been executed due, in part, to religious beliefs of the people involved.

“The Human Transmutation Virus is considered to be a retrovirus that causes a dramatic change in those who contract it. Baffling most scientists, the disease totally transforms the victim from a fully functioning member of either sex into a fully functional member of the opposite sex. Many English-speaking populations have given it the pseudonym of ‘Girl-Flu’ because of the flu-like symptoms at the onset of the transformation.”

Suddenly, I was made aware of some kind of shouting match going on outside, but I just turned up the volume on the television and chose to ignore it.

“Based on this information, are you being led to believe that we may be witnessing the first case of HTV in the United States?” Hal likely echoed the sentiment of most viewers, now.

Monica nodded. “It would appear to be just that, Hal. Digging a little further, we discovered that most of the women here at Virginia Mason are being held communally in a residential area of the hospital. There is one specific patient being treated here in the trauma ward by Dr. Carver, but we were unable to uncover that person’s identity or any information about their status. I am led to believe that it is a woman who was homeless when all of this began, based on what we’ve uncovered so far.”

“So, Seattle could very well have one more male citizen in the wake of all of this?” Hal questioned.

Again, Monica nodded. “It would appear that way, Hal. We can neither confirm nor deny the statement, but it seems plausible, based on the evidence we’ve uncovered so far. We’ll keep you updated as more information becomes available.”

“Thank you, Monica…” Hal stated before the graphic changed again to feature only his visage.

Right at that moment, Janet burst into my room looking rather winded. I hit the mute button.

“Melissa…” She breathed.

I turned to her nonchalantly. “The cat’s out of the bag, now.”

~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

To say that there was a media firestorm after that would be no hyperbole. News organizations of every imaginable type descended on Seattle and surrounded the Virginia Mason campus. Representatives from all the major news networks -- ABC, CBS, NBC, and even Fox News -- had correspondents and cameras strategically placed that were spinning their own variety of conspiracy theory. Local stations from Seattle, Tacoma, and even Olympia were represented as well. The Seattle Times, The News Tribune, The Olympian, and The Stranger rounded out the local newspapers present. Nationally, the New York Times, L.A. Times, Washington Post, Newsweek, and one I’d never heard of, the Huffington Post, were also on hand. Suddenly, it didn’t feel so bad to be under quarantine. However, doctors and nurses from the hospital were getting hounded to make some kind of statement on the matter. I overheard a lot of nurses stating that they had enough stress to deal with at work and would rather not have to deal with it on the way into work. The time had come to make a phone call.

In my own little room, things were about the same. Periodically, a nurse would come in and insert a needle into the IV needle still imbedded in my hand to give me some relief from my abdominal pain. Still, they were keeping me numb enough to feel the annoying dull pain, but stave off everything else. Occasionally, something would spasm and cause me to cringe momentarily, but that was only temporary. Dr. Michaels wanted to keep tabs and know when the pain finally subsided. It had yet to be explained to me exactly what, precisely, was causing the pain. Up to this point, all I had to go on was Dr. Michaels’ conjecture. Now, my joints ached and my whole body felt like one big slab of Jell-O. I brought up the concern that I may be getting a fever to the nurses because I always experienced similar sensations just before I developed a fever. Thankfully, they diligently checked my temperature and there was no fever. I really didn’t want to pass out for another five days.

I was, however, taking a lot more naps. Taking into consideration what my body was going through still wasn’t much comfort. There were too many questions left unanswered and Dr. Carver hadn’t made an appearance in a few days. He had to be around somewhere, though, because the nurses were taking blood samples at regular intervals that I was almost certain he had ordered. Not much, though. Usually, it just a small vial every six hours, or so. Now, I was really feeling like a lab rat. Janet’s visits were really such a blessing. For the most part, she was the only visitor authorized by the CDC.

My eyes fluttered open after a particularly long nap. The reason I knew it was a long nap was because I had apparently fell asleep during the beginning of an episode of Dirty Jobs and now there was some kind of fishing show. I hate sport fishing. I winced a little as I rolled over from my side to my back. Typically, I slept on my stomach but the pain was too much to even try that.

“Sleeping quite a bit, recently?” A male voice softly inquired.

I rolled my head and my eyes landed on him. “Oh… hey, Dr. Carver. Long time no see.” I groaned.

“Yes. I apologize for that, Melissa. My efforts to analyze HTV at its different stages have kept me away. I’ll try to be less of a science geek in the future.” He smiled.

“See that you do.” I breathed tiredly.

He crossed over to the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Now, I grumbled. “Wish you guys would take away all the pain, but I’m glad for the dull roar, at least.”

“I’m sorry for that, Melissa. It is a necessary evil for the time being. Anything else?”

I pressed a button to bring the gurney to an upright position so I wasn’t being rude. “Yeah, my joints ache like I’ve got a fever coming on and my whole body feels like Jell-O. Care to elaborate why?”

“Certainly.” As if on cue, he took the chair next to the gurney. “Right now, your body is going through what I call the ‘pupa’ stage of development. Everything that is changing is going on internally. After several patients, I discovered that the joint aches are being caused by your body reforming growth plates in certain places. The ‘body jelly’ sensation is muscle reformation. Male and female muscle structures have several differences. I know that it’s uncomfortable and we’re going to do our best to make you as comfortable as we can. Are you satisfied with what has been done so far?”

“In a word: no. This abdominal pain makes it really hard to sleep in certain positions. I’ve taken to sleeping on my side because neither my belly or back is very comfortable.”

“There is a reason for that, I assure you.” He gave a reassuring smile. Then, he quickly glanced down at his clipboard then back up at me. “Would you like some good news?”

“Yes, I would love some good news.”

“Well, with the blood tests, I’ve not only been monitoring the changes with how the virus and your body are reacting. There are several other things going on. You may not know the typical hormone levels in humans, so I’ll elaborate:

“In males, testosterone will hover around four to five hundred nanograms per milliliter, while leaving the estrogen levels somewhere between fifty and one hundred fifty, but typically sixty. In females, there’s the menstrual cycle to take into account. Thus, hormone levels vary greatly and are as diverse as women, themselves. That being said, average testosterone levels are anywhere between six and eighty six picograms per milliliter. Progesterone levels are lowest at ovulation and highest at the time a woman has her period. After ovulation, it climbs above fourteen picograms per milliliter and we know that an egg has been released from the ovary. Estrogen levels can vary from fifty to five hundred nanograms per milliliter, depending on the phase of her cycle and whether she’s postmenopausal or not.”

I held my head to keep it from spinning. “Nanograms? Picograms? Never learned those in any science class I’ve ever taken. You’re throwing me through a loop, Doc.”

He chuckled. “I didn’t learn them until med school. They’re just ways to measure the small amounts that are present in human blood. There’s a lot of chemistry to consider. The short answer: after three consecutive days of testing, your estrogen is about five hundred, progesterone is above fourteen, and testosterone is only nine. I am very happy to pronounce that you are now chemically female.”

A smile crossed my lips a nurse pulled back the curtain and wheeled in a machine that I hadn’t ever seen before. I looked at her quizzically, then repeated the expression to Dr. Carver who only released another chuckle.

“That, Melissa, is a sonogram machine. We’re going to confirm my hypothesis about what is causing your abdominal pain. Are you with me?” He explained.

I slowly nodded. “Oh. Sure, let’s do this.” Then, the gurney began to lower to the lying down position.

Dr. Carver moved over to the machine, setting his clipboard on top of it as he began to power it up. Meanwhile, the nurse was getting me into position by pulling back the blankets and lifting my hospital gown. Dr. Carver took note of the diminished size of the bulge in my panties.

“We’ll take a look at that when we’re finished with the sonogram. I’ve been meaning to examine you, myself, for days, now.” He reassured me.

He didn’t get much more out of me than a nod. The nurse lowered the waistband of my panties, but made sure to protect my dignity for the time being. Looking down my body, I noted the size of the bulge and how different my belly was beginning to look. Dr. Carver had said there wouldn’t be too many external changes yet, but there was definitely something going on. In a moment, he was putting some gel on the business end of the machine and a little on my abdomen as well. It was so cold that goosebumps started to form. Yet again, he flashed a reassuring smile as he set to work.

I tensed up a little as the little wand-looking roller thing was placed on my tummy. In half a second, a picture was being sent back to the main unit. Dr. Carver rooted around for a few minutes and I could barely tell what anything was that I was seeing on the screen. Then, he stopped and I could see something I’d only ever seen on examination room walls. Right before my eyes in black and white was nothing more than ovaries, fallopian tubes, and an actual uterus. Tears quickly welled up in my eyes and began falling down my cheeks. That had to be the happiest day of my life, up to that point.

Ever since I can remember, there was nothing I wanted more than to have my own children. This dream had been shot down and ridiculed by other kids ever since I can remember and even my own family. To them, I was a boy and boys don’t have babies. With the onset of puberty, the cold, hard truth was made apparent. When other girls were blossoming into swans, I was being left behind and turning into some perversion. My doom was to be some huge, tall, broad, hairy gorilla with a Polish sausage between my legs. It had been the reason why so many tears stained my pillows when I was a teenager. I had not known any greater pain.

As I crumpled into a crying mass, Dr. Carver saved several frames of the sonogram and made ready to print them out for me to commemorate the occasion. He cleaned the machine and the nurse did her best to get me cleaned up as well, holding my hand the whole time. Her name was Heather, I found out later. Soon, I regained my composure and Dr. Carver stood at the end of my bed with yet another reassuring smile.

“Well, chalk this up as just another of a great many pieces of good news, today.” He stated softly. “Are you settled enough for a more thorough examination?”

Slowly nodding as I wiped away tears, there wasn’t much more movement I could coax out of my body. “I don’t know if I can handle much more good news, but let’s go for it.”

He chuckled. Thus, the panties came off the rest of the way and he set about his examination. Geezus, the little monster looked small, now! Dr. Carver had taken measurements when I’d first come in while I was unconscious. Flaccid, I was six inches long and only about an inch in circumference. When erect, he believed that I was about nine and a half inches long and about two inches around. Like I said, Polish sausage. Now, though, the little bastard was still about three inches long and there was no hope of him growing erect because my libido was pretty much gone. Looking down, I could see and Dr. Carver confirmed that my mons pubis and labia majora that my phallus was shrinking into were fully mature. I couldn’t see anything below that, though.

“Well, well…” Dr. Carver thought out loud.

“Care elaborating, Doctor?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well, Melissa, given the development, I‘d say that your abdominal pain should subside either tonight or tomorrow. You are now the proud owner of a healthy, nearly developed uterus. Also, you no longer have a scrotum. I would now call this tissue nothing more than labia minora. It’s fully extended along your perineum and has begun to split. In the next couple of days we’re going to have to be careful. It will take about twelve to sixteen hours for your urethra to reroute itself into the labia. So, I’m cutting down your fluid intake until that happens.”

“So, in a day or two, I’ll actually have to sit to pee, instead of choosing to like I’ve done for the past few years.”

He nodded as he helped lift my panties back onto my hips. “Precisely. Also, over the next couple of days, that little phallus with fold over, connect itself to the labia, and continue to shrink until it becomes your clitoris.”

My head fell onto the pillow, then I smiled as tears once again welled up in my eyes. He was right. There was a lot of good news, today.

“Dr. Carver? Could you do me a favor?”

“Yes, Melissa. What do you need?”

“Could you call my doctor for me? On one hand, he should hear the good news and you should send him a copy of the ultrasound. On the other hand, I think it’s time to call that publicist.”

“Are you sure it’s best to involve the publicist, now?”

I sat up, which didn’t feel too good. “Yes, there isn’t a better time.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Look,” I began and let out a sigh, “I may be effectively trapped in this hospital room, but I’m not blind to what’s going on outside. I know that every news organization imaginable has descended on this hospital, even some I’ve never heard of. The nurses have been stating for the past couple of days that the reporters are harassing them as they come in to work. You can’t tell me that they haven’t been trying to get a comment out of you, either. They mentioned you, specifically, on KOMO the other night.” Again, I let out a sigh and the tears welling up were of concern rather than happiness. “You guys work hard enough as it is. You don’t need all the harassment.” I looked directly at Heather, who then smiled. “None of you do.” Then, my eyes returned to Dr. Carver. “What they want is me. If I give them what they want, they may focus their attention on me and leave you guys alone.”

A smile crossed his lips that was beyond my comprehension to decipher. “Melissa, did it hurt?”

I was taken aback. “Did what hurt?”

“When you fell from heaven. Did it hurt?”

It was corny, but everyone in the room shared a good laugh, even if it caused me to wince in pain.

~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

Some kind of explosive pressure release had awakened me from a confusing, but not unpleasant dream. Honestly, my body wanted to just ignore it and go back to sleep. My mind had other ideas. It was working overtime to try and decipher what that sensation of warmth spreading around my pelvic region was. Grunting, I rolled over and tried to sit up, hearing some strange sound as I did so. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, pulled back the covers and let out a startled scream. I found that I was, again, wearing a diaper. But, that wasn’t the most startling revelation. My scream was a girl’s scream.

“Holy shit! Was that me?” My voice was beginning to sound very unfamiliar, but not in a bad way. I had trained it into a female speaking register years ago, but screaming had proved impossible. I hadn’t screamed properly since I was about eleven years old.

Janet burst in from behind the curtain, clutching her chest. “Heavens! Melissa, are you all right? Where did that scream come from?”

My eyes big as dinner plates, I tilted my head toward her. “In a manner of speaking.”

She blinked. “Melissa… your voice?”

I swallowed. Through the training, I could actually restrict the size of my larynx. Now, it felt a little strange, so I relaxed it. “Yes…” I stopped. Usually, when I relaxed, it landed in a male register. My hand shot to my throat. The Adam’s Apple I’d been cursed with at seventeen was nowhere to be found. “Oh. My. GOD!” I squeaked. “It’s gone!”

She rushed over to the bed, smiling. “Yes, it would appear something’s gone. To what are you referring?” I lifted my head and ran my hand slowly up and down my soft, smooth neck. “Your Adam’s Apple? Well, Dr. Carver did say that a lot of internal changes were happening, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he did.” I was still marveling over my voice. It sounded right. Sure, I’d trained it to sound correctly female before, but this was a little different. I sounded like a proper twenty-something young woman… and I didn’t have to try. “God damn… I don’t think I’m going to get over this one.”

“Watch your mouth, Missy. Now, why did you scream?” She gave me a stern look. “Congratulations on the ability to scream, by the way.”

Now, a grimace crossed my face. I firmly pointed at the mass of cotton, plastic, and polymer between my legs and fastened to my hips. “Um… what the hell is this doing here?”

She tilted her head to the side in a maternal, yet condescending, way. “Honey, that’s no big deal. You’ve been in and out of consciousness for the past twenty hours. If Dr. Carver hadn’t explained that it was normal and not to worry, you’d be hooked up to a lot of machines, right now. During that time, your urethra disappeared. We couldn’t take any chances. It was explained that you’d be incontinent for a few days while your body recovers from not having a way to dispose of fluid waste for… how long was it?… oh, about seventeen hours.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” My voice was naturally rising and falling in pitch, out of habit I’d developed over the years. Now, I was reveling in how pretty it sounded.

“No kidding, my dear. What woke you up, by the way? I’ve been trying for hours, now.”

I blushed in embarrassment. “Something happened. I don’t know, but I think I wet the bed. There was a bunch of pressure, then, suddenly, nothing but warmth.”

“You’re sure?” She glanced down and nodded. “Yep, it happened. Good, we can stop dehydrating you, now. What can I get you, besides a fresh diaper?”

“Well, hold the diaper and get me some coffee.”

She shook her head. “Don’t have a choice with the diaper, missy. I’m not taking any chances. You don’t want soaked sheets, trust me. I’ll get you a small cup of coffee and some vitamin waters. Sound good.”

I grumbled… femininely. “Fine, if you insist.” I let my body forcibly fall back onto the pillow while I pressed the button to raise it into the sitting position.

While Janet was away, I decided to distract myself from the feeling in my crotch by humming scales. After a few minutes, I began to lightly sing them. First, I tested to see the lowest note I could possibly hit. I was enamored to find out that I couldn’t sing any lower than Fiona Apple -- whereas before, I could give most bass singers a run for their money. Then, I tested my range by starting at that lowest note and going up and singing the “Do, Re, Mi” song from The Sound of Music. The higher I got, the happier I became. I could feel my voice jump into a female falsetto and climb ever higher. Without testing with a vocal instructor, I surmised that I was likely in the mezzo soprano range, which was very delightful. Not a full soprano, though. I couldn’t hit the high C note without screaming and alerting the nurses for no good reason.

Janet reentered the room with her hands quite full. She had two twenty-ounce bottles of Vitamin Water (the flavored stuff), a twelve-ounce coffee, and a white plastic crinkling thing. I dreaded the latter, but smiled at the other two. Once she reached me, she placed the drinks on the table to my left and then moved to my right side. She presented the offending plastic thing but gave me a sweet smile.

“I realize this can be a little embarrassing, but it’ll serve a double purpose. Try to think about it positively?” Janet requested.

“I can try, I guess.” My arms folded.

“I’m going to need you to lie down, though, hon. It’s easier that way.”

Rolling my eyes, the gurney began to lower into the lying position again. I was not going to like this in the slightest. I flinched as I heard the tapes being unfastened.

“Hey, honey, it’s this or a catheter. What’s it going to be?” She sternly scolded.

“It’s just embarrassing, okay?”

“Yes, dear, I get that. I’m not here to make fun of you and neither is anyone else on my staff. Think of it this way: it’s strange enough to have someone slowly transforming into a female under our care. In the big picture, the diaper thing is very small.”

“You may have a point, there.”

“See?” She immediately stopped and stared at my crotch, which mildly annoyed me. “Melissa, have you seen this?”

I lifted myself onto my elbows. “What?” Then, I caught sight of it. “Okay, the voice is no longer the flavor of the day.”

My crotch looked almost alien to me. There was a mild dip from my belly to my crotch, but then there was a mound. Beyond that, a void. Nothing. Nada. Nichts. There was no longer some deformed bulbous thing looking back up at me. How long had I been out? My eyes were beginning to dry out, they were so wide.

“Hang on a moment.” She pulled the soaked diaper out from under me, rolled it up, and taped it closed. Then, she opened my legs a little further. “Honey, we have got to get you a mirror! That’s one of the prettiest pussies I’ve ever seen!”

“That’s a little soon! Dr. Carver said it would take a couple of days before the little monster disappeared! How long have I been out?!”

She placed a hand on my shoulder. “Shh, honey… calm down. I told you that you’ve been in and out of consciousness for the last twenty hours, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did.”

“Well, I thought you’d be happy to find out that the one thing causing you the most emotional pain for all of your young life was gone.” A smile creased her lips. “And she’s an adorable little rosebud, too. That’s not all, though, honey. You have a vaginal opening, now. You are officially a member of the female species.” She winked.

“No shit?!”

“I told you we have to get you a mirror. That’s one gorgeous vulva you’ve got there.” I let out another happy sigh as she moved back to the right side of the bed, unfolding the plastic thing. “Now, lay back down so we can get this over with. Don’t get too used to the coffee, dear. We’ve got to get your fluids back up.”

~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~

Daytime television is seriously boring. Ever notice that? If you’re not a shut-in housewife or drama queen, there is nothing to watch! Again, I was engaging in the sport of channel surfing. I should get a gold metal in this.

On top of that, I had a smooth, empty crotch and couldn’t even enjoy it. I had an offending sheet of plastic, cotton, and polymer so thick that I couldn’t close my legs all the way. I had gotten used to the idea, though, because I had no way to tell when I needed to empty my bladder. It just emptied on its own without much warning. Janet had said that it would be a couple of days until I could use a toilet properly, so I’d started a mental countdown. It was definitely better than a catheter, though.

At the very least, I didn’t have any more abdominal pain. It had moved to my chest, ribs, arms, hands, hips, legs, and feet. Yep, still had the joint pain.

The curtain parted. “Hello, there, Melissa. How’s my favorite patient doing?” It was a male voice.

My head rolled toward the door to come upon the silhouette of my doctor. “Merph.”

“Well, that’s not a very spirited response.” He lamented.

“Yea, well, I’m bored out of my mind, there’s nothing on TV, and I just had my diaper changed about half an hour ago. How, exactly, am I supposed to feel?” I was still amazed with how lovely my voice sounded as it resonated around the room. I’d get used to it, eventually, but I was celebrating inwardly.

He staggered backward. “Melissa… your voice… when?”

“Yesterday. Woke up after my urethra rerouted only to piss myself.” Next, I was less somber. “I did manage to scream, though.”

“A real scream?”

“Yes, a real scream. Like, horror movie good scream.”

“Well, you’re coming right along.” He moved over to his usual spot in the chair on my right side. “Have you experimented?”

Lazily, I nodded. “Yeah, a little. I think I’m a mezzo soprano. Can’t tell until I talk to a vocal specialist, though.”

“And, what were you before?”

“Baritone, I guess. I could sing both bass and tenor.”

He leaned in. “And your Adam’s Apple is gone, I see.”

My head rolled over to him with a huge smile plastered on my face. “That’s not the only offending protrusion that’s gone.”

His eyes widened. “You mean… ?”

“Yep! She’s a happy little rosebud, from what I hear. And, you can forget the surgery. I grew my own, thanks.”

His face brightened up and his eyes sparkled. “That’s wonderful! I’m very happy for you!” He leapt up and gathered me into a hug. I reciprocated. “I have to be honest, I thought it would take longer, even after I received your sonogram stills.” He released me.

“Me too. You should have seen me curse at Janet for messing with me. She told me she was going to bring me a mirror to prove it. Apparently, I have a pretty pussy.” I shrugged.

“I don’t know if I would use that particular terminology with the press. The FCC will assuredly frown on it.” Another, alien, male voice stated plainly.

Okay, now was the time to demonstrate to Dave. I let out quite the blood-curdling scream. It even surprised me. I jumped and clamored to grab hold of Dave, which made my diaper crinkle quite loudly.

“Now, I see what you mean.” Dave stated, covering the ear closest to me and wincing in pain.

“I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. David, did you not tell her I was coming?” The man questioned.

“I was about to.” He grimaced. “Melissa, this is Nathaniel Dobbs. Nathan, meet Melissa Sterling.”

The man approached. First thought: jeez, he’s hot! He looked like a homogenization of Mark McGrath and Ryan Reynolds, with Elijah Woods’ hairstyle. His hair was brown and his eyes a subtle green. There wasn’t much to decipher his body with, other than he looked amazing in a double-breasted suit jacket. And, enter the alien sensations. My nipples tightened and rubbed against the fabric of the hospital gown while there was an interesting tingling sensation in my groin. All the sudden, my whole body became some degrees warmer, my heart beat a little faster, and I had butterflies in my tummy.

He held out a hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Melissa. Dave had told me a great deal. I have to say, though, that none of his descriptions do you any justice.”

Blushing heavily, I slowly took his hand and shook it. “Um… thanks.”

“Well, you’re going to have to find a few more words than that if we’re going to be impressing the press.” He winked. Now, my crotch felt warm and I sincerely hoped my bladder hadn‘t emptied itself just then. “You are the girl of the hour and they have no idea you’re a girl.”

I giggled. ’Geezus, get a grip, Melissa!’. “Y-yes… I saw the piece on KOMO 4... And ABC… And CBS…”

“And NBC, MSNBC, CNN, plus Fox News, for good measure. They’re all clamoring for anything they can get their hands on. I have to say, I’d be honored to handle this for you, if you’ll have me.” He winked.

I was light-headed, but it felt great. “Well… what’s your credentials?” Changing the subject was a good idea.

Dave moved to the foot of the bed, helping distract me from the hunk of man meat. “Actually, Nathan, here, has represented a few people in the past years. He handled the Chris Crocker case and was with Felicia Day, until recently.”

My eyes lit up. “Felicia Day? What’s she like? I love her.” I cooed.

Nathan laughed. “Star struck, eh? Well, Felicia’s a great girl. Maybe I’ll introduce you, once the CDC let’s you out of your cage.”

“That would be awesome.” I tried to sit back and relax. “Now, let’s talk strategy. How’s this all going to go down?”

He slipped one hand into his pocket and began to pace. He had a really nice ass, too. “Well, I’m not going to lie to you. Right now, you could take hundreds of different offers. I don’t know your preference, here, but I’m saying that you won’t have to be homeless after this. First, though, I think we should start light. Seeing that the CDC has you in lockdown until they’re satisfied, I would suggest we come up with some kind of press release that I could read outside for a press conference. That would give them something to salivate over and they’d think they were getting some deeper story. Then, we make them wait. The CDC lockdown is in your favor there. You don’t have to face them until you’re ready and they won’t be bothering you. Believe me, honey, the paparazzi are ruthless when they want to be. In here, you’re safe from that.”

I lowered my head to contemplate his proposal. It was a damn good one, too. My mind decided to linger on one particular, point, though. I glanced up at him with one eyebrow raised and my nose scrunched. It had to look really cute. “Wait. Are we talking monetary compensation, here? You said something about offers.”

“Yes, Melissa, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. I’m not going to sugarcoat anything, here. You could stand to make a great deal of money from this. I mean, you are the first recorded case of HTV in the entire United States. Before, you were homeless and wandering the streets for a place to lay your head. I want to see if we can get you enough to get a home of your own.”

Either that was the sweetest thing I’d ever heard or I was seeing this through the rose-colored glasses of unadulterated lust. At that moment, I could have cared less. At least my libido was back. “Well, in that case, you had me at ‘hello’. Let’s get this ball rolling, then.”

He smiled. “I hoped you’d say that. Think you can write up a press release in three days?”

“I might be able to manage that. I don’t have anything to write with, though.”

Until that moment, Dave had been digging through his bag and had largely gone unnoticed. Then, he turned around and presented a relatively flat, black, electronic device. “My gift to you, Melissa.” He grinned widely.

‘Holy shit, he bought me a laptop!’ I stared at it blankly for a minute. “Dude… you got me a Dell?”

They both laughed.

“Actually, it’s a Sony Vaio. They’ve got a little more power.” Dave corrected me.

Taking the laptop, tears welled up in my eyes. “Yea, but there’s no good joke with that brand.”

More laughter.

[ - To Be Concluded - ]
Photo Credit: Haley Ramm