Devin collapsed onto his bed as soon as he got to his room. It was a long, uneventful day. He planned on falling asleep right then but he eventually decided to waste some time on his computer instead.

Once Devin turned on his computer, something caught his eye. He had been hit with a pop up ad. It was a very odd looking ad. It said that he had been sent some kind of link by an unknown source, and that it was a “once in a lifetime” opportunity to click on it.

Devin’s immediate suspicion was that he had somehow gotten a virus. An unusual one, but still definitely something that would harm his computer. It would be best for him to not click on the link, close the ad, and hope no further damage had been done.

But for some reason, he felt compelled to click on the link. It was as if the ad was pulling him towards itself. Try as he may, he clicked on the link and was taken to a web site.

The web site itself was extremely plain, displaying nothing but a white screen with black text and a “proceed” button. But what immediately grabbed Devin’s attention was what the black text read.

Devin's eyes went wide. He was so shocked he couldn’t move. “It can’t be…” he thought. “It, it can’t be real.”

“TG Questionnaire: If You Were a Girl”

He had been sent the TG questionnaire. The same one that had been written about so many times. The one that would ask him a bunch of questions about what he would be like if he was a girl, and then make those things happen to him. He was sitting right in front of it.

The questionnaire that was supposed to be fictional.

“This has to be a joke.” He thought.

Devin could not accept this as being real. Someone had to be pranking him. There was probably a camera already set up somewhere. Maybe his parents had found out about his obsession and this was their way of insulting him.

Regardless, he clicked the “proceed” button and was taken to the first question, asked in black text with a text box below along with a “next question” button.

“Why did I do that?” Devin asked himself. Did he actually think this questionnaire was real? Was he really that desperate and delusional? It was just an online questionnaire. It couldn’t actually turn him into a girl. If this was a prank, he was giving the onlookers exactly what they wanted.

Ignoring those thoughts, Devin went on to read the first question.

“Question 1: If you were a girl, would your handwriting be nice?”

Devin thought back to what he knew about this questionnaire. If he remembered correctly, each question would change him without him noticing and after he was done he would forget he was ever male at all.

Devin was never particularly fond of the concept of identity death in TG fiction, or in TF fiction in general for that matter. For starters, he thought it was usually pointless when used as a punishment because the TFee never learns anything. They’re just essentially replaced with a new person. He always thought that if the witch or wizard or whatever that’s punishing someone can alter reality, personalities, and memories, then they could just alter the TFee’s mind to make them already have learned whatever lesson they needed to in the first place. It would be a lot simpler than completely rewriting an entire person’s existence.

Furthermore, the idea of losing all of your memories and being replaced by an entirely new person was something that kind of terrified Devin. And identity death was rarely used in the context of horror, as it was usually shoehorned into a story at the last minute for no reason.

Fortunately identity death might not be something Devin would have to worry about, as he also remembered that the results of the TG questionnaire depended greatly on his responses. He had to be very meticulous about his answers if he wanted to keep his memories.

That was, of course, assuming the questionnaire was real at all. Internally Devin admonished himself for actually believing an online questionnaire could alter reality and turn him into a girl. “I really am a gullible idiot”, he thought.

Devin took a deep sigh as he readied his response to the question. He may have been giving some unknown pranksters exactly what they wanted, but he didn’t care about that anymore. To him, he didn’t have any dignity left to lose.

“If I was a girl, my handwriting would be a lot nicer. In fact, it would be the best that is possible by a human hand.”

Devin cracked a light grin. He knew he didn’t have to be honest with his responses. He could just reply with anything he wanted and it would be granted to him. The test was essentially a giant wish list.

Once Devin clicked the “next question” button, he immediately felt something odd in his hands. The feeling made him jump as it took him completely by surprise.

Devin didn’t even need to look down at his hands. Somewhere in his mind or in the universe it was confirmed to him that his hands were different, and it was the result of his answer. Which meant only one thing.

The questionnaire actually worked.

Devin was stunned. He was too stunned to move. Too stunned to think. This questionnaire was real. It would do anything he wanted. Anything he typed as an answer would be granted to him. He would… turn into a girl. And reality would alter itself so that he would have always been a girl. No transition process, no unaccepting parents, nothing. He’d just be a girl and that was it.

Devin’s eyes welled with tears of happiness. He didn’t care about how his desire to be a girl was just a sick fetish of his. Soon he wouldn’t have to care about that anymore. Ever again. He was going to give into this part of himself and never go back and the thought of doing that thrilled him.

Sierra had the most genuine smile that she had ever had on her face as she read the next question. Devin was a shell. A cage to hold in who she truly was. And with that cage gone forever she finally felt free.

“Question 2: If you were a girl, would you like pink?”

“Whoever wrote these questions probably did not put much thought into them”, Sierra thought to herself. Of course, since the questionnaire was about becoming a girl, there just had to be a question asking if you liked pink.

Before she typed in her answer, Sierra recalled that every time she read about this questionnaire, certain belongings of the test taker would change color depending on their answer to this question. With that in mind, she typed in her answer: “I would have the exact same feelings toward the color pink as I do now.”

After clicking “next question”, she looked around her room and saw that nothing had changed. Exactly what she wanted.

“Question 3: If you were a girl, what would your favorite color be?”

Sierra didn’t get it. Couldn’t they have just asked this question and not the one about liking pink? What was even the point of asking if she liked pink if they were going to ask what her favorite color was anyway?

“My favorite color would be the same that it is now.”

Once she clicked “next question”, she felt as if the universe was frustrated at her for having such a vague response. This only made her laugh. She loved being aware she was angering some kind of reality altering force that really wanted to turn guys into girls for some reason.

“Question 4: If you were a girl, what would your hair be like?”

This one was quite a bit more open ended than the previous ones. Maybe the universe was giving her questions more suited towards her own tastes, Sierra thought rather arrogantly.

Sierra thought about it for a bit. If she really wanted to she could say that her hair color would be something unnatural like blue, purple, or a variety of rainbow colors. But she had to think about the future. This would be her hair for the rest of her life. And she didn’t need all the unnecessary extra attention that would come with having unnaturally colored hair.

“My hair would be straight, and extend down below my shoulders. It would retain its brownish blonde color.”

She clicked “next question” and felt her hair extend downward to below her shoulders.

“Question 5: If you were a girl, how tall would you be?”

Sierra wasn’t exactly a giant, but at 5’9”, she’d definitely be on the taller side for a girl. Probably a little too tall, she thought.

“I would be a bit shorter. 5’7”, to be exact.”

Truthfully her height didn’t bother her too much, but if she was being given the option, she might as well choose to be a couple inches shorter.

She clicked “next question” and noticed herself become slightly shorter. Obviously it wasn’t anything that significant but she could still see a clear difference. It did make her wonder where the extra matter went. After all, a human body can’t just shrink two inches in such a short time, especially without any kind of response from the body itself.

In fact, in all of the TG stories where the main character shrinks in size, where does all that excess matter go? Some stories explain it away by saying it’s converted to waste, but a lot of them leave it as is. If a 6’5” buff man can change into a 5’0” petite woman in just a few seconds, wouldn’t that break the laws of physics? Matter can’t be created or destroyed, right?

Sierra was really just wasting her time. It wasn’t worth looking at every small plot hole or inconsistency that a story has. It’s all fiction. Not everything has to line up perfectly with reality.

With that thought out of the way, Sierra read the next question.

“Question 6: If you were a girl, how big would your breasts be?”

This was definitely one of the more important questions, and it was one Sierra really needed to think about. She couldn’t just blow it off.

Or could she?

She had breasts right now, from the months of taking secret hormones, and even though they were rather small, they’d probably continue to grow for at least a while. And because of that, she could just say that her breasts would be as big as they are now. It’d be a pretty easy response for her, especially considering that she didn’t know much of anything about cup sizes and bra measurements.

After thinking it over and contemplating how to word her response, she decided to go with that. “My breasts would continue growing as normal, just like they are doing right now.”

She clicked “next question”, and nothing changed.

“Question 7: If you were a girl, would you use pads or tampons?”

This was another really important question, as it was the one that would change her genitalia. But unlike the last question, it was one where her specific response wouldn’t create any unique changes. No matter what she answered, she’d always gain a vagina.

Sierra pondered it. She was well aware that menstruation was not pleasant and was often quite painful. And it seemed she was about to start going through it. Would it be worth it? Just to gain a vagina that easily? And what would she even type in? She had heard about Toxic Shock Syndrome in regard to tampons, and it sounded pretty bad, so she figured she’d go with pads.

Eventually Sierra decided that it would be worth it. It wasn’t like she was ever going to be given the opportunity to get a vagina this easily ever again. And besides, it wasn’t as if anyone would actually know about her taking this test anyway, so no one would be able to judge her decision.

“I would use pads. I would only use tampons if I had no other options.”

After clicking “next question”, Sierra let out a gasp. She felt her penis pull itself in. It was a very odd feeling. But it did confirm one thing. She now had a vagina.

Having a vagina was just like she imagined. She no longer had to deal with that gross dangling feeling between her legs that bothered her so much. She no longer had to see the disgusting thing in the shower. No longer had to see any kind of bulge in her underwear. It made her so happy she was nearly brought to tears.

After getting herself under control, she read the next question.

“Question 8: If you were a girl, how many dicks would you be able to take at once?”

It seemed that every iteration of this questionnaire asked a really stupid question. How does one even go about answering this?

Sierra contemplated her response for a few minutes, typing some things in to get an idea of what she would say. It took a while, but she settled on an answer she was satisfied with.

“I would be able to take however many dicks I feel like. And I don’t think this is a very good question. It’s too vague and unpredictable. How am I supposed to anticipate what changes will happen to my body depending on my response? What if my answer makes my mouth or vagina opening extend to a length that isn’t biologically viable? It seems like you’re trying to trip me up.”

Once Sierra clicked “next question”, she felt that same feeling of the universe being angry with her again. It only made her grin.

“Final Question: If you were a girl, what would your name be?”

“Only nine questions?” Sierra thought, “I could’ve sworn there were more.”

While it was true that not every iteration of this questionnaire was exactly the same, this one seemed very different. There weren’t even ten questions. Why was this one so short?

Perhaps she got a special one. A special questionnaire for a special recipient, Sierra thought. She laughed. She sure was being arrogant today, wasn’t she? Then again, was she really wrong? She was well aware of the questionnaire’s existence before she came across it herself, which was unlike anyone else who came upon it.

On that note though, did the other people who took this questionnaire genuinely choose their names? This was usually the last question asked, and at this point the test taker has had their mind warped and messed with to a significant extent. So do they actually choose their names? Was this worth wondering about? Probably not.

Sierra, of course, already knew her name. She’d chosen it herself, after all. So she simply typed in “My name is Sierra Farrow”. Once she clicked the “finish test” button, she was greeted with a message.

“Thank you for having the time to go through our little quiz. We hope you enjoyed it. You can send it to whoever you want. Hopefully this next person won’t be such a smartass.”

Sierra chuckled. They really didn’t like her, did they? Well, whoever “they” are anyway. But that didn’t matter. The test was finished. For all intents and purposes, she was a girl now.

As Sierra closed out of the web site, she couldn’t hold back her excitement. It was over. The dull, lifeless void that was her male life was finally over. She’d never have to go through it again. For her, this was the start of a new life. A much better, more fulfilling one.

Sierra’s mind went wild with images of what she now looked like. Pictures of beautiful women filled her head. She imagined herself as the most beautiful and elegant looking woman that had ever lived. Perhaps she should keep her expectations reasonable, but she was so happy she just couldn’t help herself.

Sierra ran to the mirror in her room with a smile on her face.

Her smile immediately fell when she saw what was being reflected.

It was a disgusting sight. It was probably the most vile thing she had ever seen. A hideously deformed human with a giant, asymmetrical body and gaping bloody holes all over, where insects were endlessly crawling out.

It was so bad that Devin began throwing up.

It was the most violent, forceful throw up that Devin had ever had. It felt as if all his organs were being ripped apart and expelled violently out of his mouth. The pain was so unbearable Devin thought he would die.

The vomit itself was a putrid looking blood red. And it had a foul stench worse than anything Devin had ever smelled before.

He tried to stop it but he couldn’t. The vomit kept coming out with no hesitation or break. Soon his entire room was covered in it and tears came out of Devin’s eyes. He was begging for relief. Begging to keel over and die so he’d be put out of his misery. But it didn’t happen. For minutes on end he was left paralyzed on the floor as more and more vomit filled the room. He closed his eyes, praying that it would stop.

Devin's eyes suddenly shot open as he heard the opening notes of “Losing My Religion”. Breathing heavily, it took a few minutes for him to reorient himself.

He had never been so happy to be awake.

It was just a dream. Another really bad dream. Another dream that teased him about how much he wanted to be a girl and showed him how gross he was. He could still feel the pain throughout his body. Still see his disgusting reflection in the mirror. Still smell the awful stench emanating from the vomit.

Why did his dreams have to be so cruel to him? Devin wished that his dreams could provide him with some kind of escape and relief from his dull, grey life. That he could… be a girl in his dreams without any shame. But that never happened. His dreams would never let him be a girl. Instead they resorted to teasing him about his stupid fetish, and he hated them for it.

Devin stared at the ceiling for what seemed like hours. He needed time to destress. Needed time to forget about that awful nightmare he just had.

It took a while, but he finally was able to reach out his hand and check the time on his phone. 8:30. Not much time had passed since he woke up.

He groaned as he got out of bed. He had a shift today at the local retail store. It wasn’t something he was looking forward to, but after the awful dream he just had, it felt slightly less painful.