Sunday, July 22, 2007

As we approached the first anniversary of the change, I started to think about dating. I had dated before, but my last sort-of regular date had moved to California 3 months before the change and we weren’t close enough yet for me to quit my job and follow her there, so we split up. And I’d just never found anybody right in the 3 months after that before everything got crazy.

Now I had different priorities. First and foremost, I needed a partner who was bi, or bi-curious, or at the very least OK dating somebody who was going to be the opposite sex from the one they wanted to date half the time. Another switcher would be nice, but at the time I got my ID there were 6 in the entire state of New York. It just wasn’t likely. There were several reasons for me to prefer a woman: First, that was what I was familiar with. Second, if it was ever going to be successful to the point we wanted to have kids, if I didn’t marry a woman then we’d have to have a surrogate to carry our kids. Again, assuming no further changes. It had been stable for a year; it was reasonable to assume it was permanent. Third, while I was not opposed to the idea of my female body being penetrated by a man, when I was male, the lack of an anus meant I had nothing to penetrate, even if I was OK with that if it had been possible. If I dated a bi man, he’d have to be the one penetrated when I was male. I’m sure such people existed, but it meant looking for someone very specific.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

I found a dating site that promised to be LGBTQ-friendly, and signed up. I had used sites before that mostly catered to straight people, and they usually had a policy that the site was basically free for women. Men got to send a few messages for free but had to pay to send more. Here the policy was fairer - applied equally to everybody, anyway. You got more free messages at the start, and 3 every month that were use-’em-or-lose-’em, but everybody had to pay to keep sending after the free ones.

They had a surprisingly long list of gender options. Beyond male and female, there were options for people transitioning both ways, those who had completed surgery for changing both ways, those who merely dressed as the other gender, those who only identified as the other gender, both genders, or none but had normal organs, those who had organs of both genders since birth, and (with a “new” tag) one just for me, those who had both organs alternately because of Pee Body Syndrome. If you chose a “both” option, you got additional options under it for identify as male, identify as female, identify as neither, or identify as both. The last seemed to be what I was doing.

For the part for what I was looking for, there were boxes I could check for male, female, and “trans or other.” If I marked “trans or other” and exactly one of male and female, I could also choose: Show me dates who present or identify as my preferred gender, show me dates who have organs of my preferred gender, include dates with organs of both genders, and finally, show me all trans dates. If I marked all of male, female, and “trans or other” then the “preferred gender” and “both organs” options disappeared and “show me all trans dates” was automatically selected. If I marked only “trans or other” at the top then the “preferred gender” boxes each split into male and female options. Clearly they had thought this through.

I marked female, trans, show me dates who have organs of my preferred gender, and include dates with organs of both genders. I hesitated on that last one. This was going to show me other switchers and people with birth defects that gave them both organs. In both cases it was likely such a person could not bear children for us if we married. But it might be good to meet people in those categories, anyway.

The mathematician in me made me want to consider the number of choices. There were 20 choices for gender including all the “identify” options. For what you wanted, it could be male only, female only, both, both with trans (which automatically included all trans types), or just one of them with trans, which then let you choose any combination of the identify, organs, and both organs options except none of them, or all trans. That was 20 options, but not the same 20. If you picked only the trans option at the top, many more combinations were possible. Some of those combinations weren’t very likely, but they were possible, and each would get you a different subset of the people registered on the site, assuming all 20 gender options were used by at least one person. Having figured this out, I went back to the choices I selected previously and went on entering my information.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Over two days, I took selfies as male and female, and edited those into one image to submit as my photo. Unconventional, but I was sure they would understand why I did that. And then my profile was complete and I could look for people I might be interested in and wait for others to find me.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

It was about a month before I went on a date with someone from this site, and three months before I went on a second date. That was with Brenda, who I worried was a little too happy to please me, but more agreeable than my previous 3 dates.

Saturday, March 22, 2008

Brenda and I dated for a few months before I allowed her to spend the night with me one Friday night when I started male. In the morning after, I sat in the tub to change to female, but no sooner did I start peeing than Brenda burst in, and knocked me out with a paperweight.

When I came to, I was only a head, protruding from the ass of what I was sure was Brenda’s corpse, seeing how my feet were protruding from her mouth. I wasn’t sure how much of my female body had formed inside her, but I apparently at least had partial lungs. I could breathe, and speak, a little. So as loud as I could (which was only half as loud as my normal speaking voice) I called out, “Alera, call 911!”

“Do you want to make an emergency call, Clint?” the computerized voice asked.

“Yes!”

“Calling 911.”

I explained my situation to the 911 operator, who was stunned a bit by my situation but glad I was able to speak and seemingly not in immediate danger. She sent both an ambulance and police for me - an ambulance to help me, and Brenda on the off chance she was somehow still alive, and police because I had reported a crime.

“Make sure you tell them when they arrive to announce themselves loudly so I can hear. I can open the door by voice and let them in, but I don’t want to leave the door unlocked while I’m essentially paralyzed here.”

“Understood. Personnel will announce themselves loudly.”

It was about 10 minutes later when I heard a loud, “Police! Please open the door!”

“Alera, unlock the door.”

“Unlocking front door.”

“It’s open!” I called as loud as I could. I am not sure if the police heard me or just heard the door unlocking, but in moments two officers were standing in my bathroom looking at the grisly scene.

The male officer stated, “OK, this is what I was told to expect but I can still hardly believe it.”

The female officer was shaking her head. “Never a dull day on the job.”

The male officer said, “OK, I’m going to start a report. The ambulance will be here soon, and I will go to the hospital with you and continue the report after they get you extricated from her.”

I interrupted, “Ma’am, can you go get me a change of clothes from my bedroom to send with me so I have something to wear after they get me out? Female clothes, a full outfit, please.”

“Sure, no problem.”

The male officer continued, “OK, tell me in your own words what happened.”

“I and Brenda, the woman I’m inside, were dating; she knew about my condition. She was here in my home overnight on a date, our fifth date, while I was male, and stayed the night in bed with me. We had sex with condoms. As is usual for me because of my condition, I got into the tub here to pee myself into my female body in the morning, and the plan was to continue our date. But just as I started peeing, Brenda came in and knocked me out with a paperweight.”

“Uh huh. I see it here outside the tub.”

“And I was knocked out for the rest of it, but I assume Brenda either drank my pee or forced it up her ass, because my new body formed - partially, anyway - inside her. I can see her pussy here in front of my face, so I assume my head is protruding from her ass.”

“That is what it looks like.”

The female officer returned with a paper grocery bag presumably with my clothes in it. And just then there was knocking at the door. “Ambulance! Please open the door!”

“It’s open!” the officer yelled.

After a moment the ambulance crew found us there and police let them take over. The male officer rode to the hospital with me, carrying the bag with my clothes, and the female officer stayed to finish processing the crime scene, documenting basically everything in my house that seemed relevant.

The ambulance crew had already found no signs of life in Brenda, but at the hospital they did other tests to distinguish my life signs from her lack of them. After half an hour, one of the doctors there told me, “We don’t have much experience with people with your syndrome, and we’ve never heard of this, but based on the other places people with your syndrome have formed and gotten stuck, we believe there’s no way to unform the parts of you that are formed until the whole body forms, and there’s no way to make that happen that doesn’t mutilate Brenda’s body rather badly. Since you don’t seem in immediate danger, we are going to let the officer document what he wants to about Brenda’s body and then cut her open to get you out.

The officer came in and took about a dozen photos from different angles. He also took her fingerprints and foot prints and asked the doctors to take a blood sample and samples that should provide clean DNA for Brenda.

He said, “I am going to let the doctors take over now to get you out. This procedure will be recorded for evidence, but I will wait outside. And your clothes are here.”

The officer left the bag on a table where I could see it and left the room, closing the door behind him.

The same doctor who spoke to me before said, “We aren’t sure we can safely knock you out with drugs right now, so you’re going to have to stay awake for this. That also means you can scream out if we hurt you during the process, so please do.”

Another doctor entered, and the one who had been speaking to me introduced him as Dr. Jacobs.

Jacobs said, “I actually serve as the medical examiner at this hospital. I usually don’t work on live people, but I am a medical doctor. I’m here because I have experience cutting open dead bodies for autopsies. I am going to perform an autopsy on Brenda later, but cutting her body open to get you out is the priority now.”

Jacobs did a few brief checks and declared Brenda dead, and then with help from two other doctors, started working on freeing me. They used two pairs of sturdy scissors I assumed were meant for opening a body for surgery, and when they had to cut through her bones, a small saw. Only once did they do anything that caused me any pain and I yelped. Mostly they came into contact with my unformed mass inside her, which tickled in a strange way. As they opened her up, my cells oozed out and once freed, piece by piece they formed quickly into a normal body.

Eventually, I was all free, and they did a couple quick tests and helped me to a shower in an adjoining bathroom to remove the bits of Brenda’s blood, flesh, and bone that were all over me. They provided me with towels and my clothes, and waited in the main room for me to get dressed. They did more tests on me before declaring me healthy, and turned me over to the officer, who came in as they were leaving.

“OK, It seemed like you finished your story just before the ambulance crew arrived. Brenda knocked you out and you awoke as I found you.”

“Correct, sir.”

“Are there any more details you can remember that you think are important?”

“I don’t really know. Brenda had seemed eager to please me, maybe a little too eager, but she had never shown any desire to harm me until this happened. I was completely taken by surprise. I’m sure your partner found Brenda’s clothes and purse, probably still in my bedroom since she didn’t bring them into the bathroom with her.”

“I have not spoken with her, but I did observe male and female clothes and a purse on the floor of your bedroom during our initial check of the place. OK, I’m going to call and get us a ride back over there.”

The officer and I rode in the back of another police car to get back to my home. He talked with the female officer for a bit, and then came back to me.

“So far your story checks out. Detectives will have to examine all the evidence to confirm your story, but for now you’re free to go. Just don’t go on any sudden trips, OK?”

“Sure. Just planning to stay here and get back to work Monday.”

“Good. We’re going to pick up all the evidence - that includes both sets of clothes we found on the floor, in case you are looking for those - and then leave.”

And in 5 minutes they were gone.

What a crazy ordeal. I called me boss and let him know, and he also thought it was the craziest thing he ever heard of, but was glad I was OK. He told me to take a couple days off, so I didn’t actually go back to work until Wednesday.

Friday, March 28, 2008

The next Friday afternoon, the police called me. They had decided my story was correct and that she had caused all this, and arranged to meet me Saturday at home to discuss the details.

Saturday, March 29, 2008

It was a different officer, a detective, who came out. He explained it like this.

“In Brenda’s purse we had her keys, passwords, and everything else we needed to search her place, her computer, and everything. We found she had been planning this. She had an intestinal ulcer that she believed could only be treated with a novel form of stem cell therapy, but her insurance refused to pay for the experimental procedure. But having heard that Pee Body Syndrome sufferers basically turn into a mass of stem cells, she was determined to find one and have you pee stem cells through her intestines to try to cure her. There’s no way it would have worked; those are your stem cells, not hers, and you’re not a relative of hers. The only way it could have possibly worked is if it turned her into a clone of you, and these stem cells have not been behaving like that.”

“Oh, God. How demented she must have been.”

“In any case, this fully corroborated your story, so we’re closing this case as entirely her fault. She committed a crime, assault and battery for certain, and due to the bodily invasion, probably rape, though it would be a landmark case to apply the term rape to what she did. Maybe attempted murder, too. But since she died doing it, there won’t be a prosecution. If she had survived this somehow, a prosecutor would probably try all those charges to see what would stick. I’ve brought back the evidence we took from your home, except the things that belonged to Brenda.”

“Good. I don’t want to see any of her things. Go burn them.”

“We actually offer them to her next of kin - or will, when we find them. It seems she was pretty detached from any family.”

He handed me a bag of evidence they took from here, including my clothes that night and the paperweight.

“We can offer you counseling if you need it.”

“How long is that offer good for?”

“Two years. You have two years to decide to accept it, and you can stay in the counseling for two years once you start.”

“Good. I don’t need it now, but I will want to date again in the future, and I will probably need the counseling before I can start.”

“I’ll send you the information so you can get started when you are ready.”

“Thank you.”

The detective left, and I was left to contemplate the situation.

The detective said I was raped. And I realized he was right. She must have put my penis into her ass or her mouth after she knocked me out, and that is a sexual act. One that I did not consent to. I was raped. I am not sure how much she knew about my condition, but she knew I had it and she knew at least the detail that I turned into stem cells during my change.

She should have known that I was going to turn into a my-entire-body-sized bundle of stem cells. Surely she should have thought she only needed maybe 5% of my cells to penetrate through her entire intestine. Why didn’t she separate from me? Maybe by the time she got enough she had trouble doing that or passed out herself.

I have to assume she had never witnessed the change - it was possible for her to have seen it, since there were videos out there, but maybe she never had. She must have thought I peed out a batch of stem cells that surrounded my body and changed my organs, rather than turning my entire body into stem cells and remaking an entire new body. In that case, she would have wanted to take all I put out. Then, by the time she realized her mistake, she was already so bloated with me inside her that she couldn’t get up, and I just kept on flowing into her. She was probably awake for several minutes and aware of her predicament before she passed out.

I am not going to feel sorry for her, though. This was karma. She did a terrible thing, trying to take advantage of me in that way, and I feel good knowing she must have suffered, even if only for a few minutes, aware she was going to die before she finally did so.