*Three days after*
"Name?"
"Sarah Pasqual." I was fidgeting the chair the doctor's assistant had placed for me to sit on. My mother was sitting right next to me.
"Age?"
"I am 15 years old."
The doctor breathed in through his teeth. "That's unfortunate." My mother nodded in agreement. I knew the old man said it out of sympathy, but by now any comment about the changes seemed sarcastic to me.
"I'll ask you one last time Sarah, to have it clear, what's your condition?" The doctor was told by my mother already at the entrance, but he now had his pen ready, so he could write it down. I was soon to be a registered transformee, whether I was willing to be one or not.
I exhaled loudly, while re-positioning myself on the chair, as I'd done ever so often in the last couple of days. I answered the man, while my cheeks were burning and turning bright red. "I lay eggs."
I'd said it in a condescending tone, making clear to everyone in the patients room, my mother, the doctor, but also myself, that I'd never wanted to be put in this situation.
The doctor focused his eyes to the paper in front of him again, writing down my condition on it. I heard him mutter "Oviparous... pro - duction" underneath his breath. All to make it as formal as possible. "Alright," He continued, "is there anything else I don't know about your changes? It is better for you to get everything out right now."
"Yeah, I-" I started, I began blushing again, as if the previous one had already faded, "I just found out this morning, that-..."
My mother joined in on the conversation I was having with the doctor, she didn't know about it yet either. "What is it honey?" She looked as surprised as I was after my transformation. She hadn't even seen me laying any eggs yet, I'd wanted to keep that private.
"I also grow feathers." I confessed, my head hung low afterwards. Four eyes were staring at me, examining me from head to toe, but looking mostly at the hair on top of my head. "I don't see anything." My mother stated bluntly.
"No, not there, not on my head... but I grow feathers."
The doctor got the hint. "Ah, I see. Your pubic area."
I nodded, shifting on the chair. He eagerly resumed writing down stuff about me. As he was finished, he clicked the pen into its casing and gave me a few option. My mother listened with.
"Sarah, I'm afraid I can't help you, nor does anyone have a cure, yet." He emphasized the yet, trying to give me some comfort, but I wasn't having it sadly. "What I can do however, is send and refer you to a gynaecologist. Although you are an absolutely unique case, I still think it's useful for a specialized doctor to examine your privates, even if they aren't entirely human anymore." He opened a small drawer and searched through some small papers, until he got the thing he needed. He handed both me and my mother a card on which stood the information about a certain Dr. Richards. The picture on the card was that of a woman, that felt somewhat reassuring, and a phone-number to contact her with.
"I think we're done here for now." The doctor stood up. My mother and I mimicked his actions. "Feel free to contact me again, if necessary."
"Thank you Dr. Coil." The two of us shook his hand. We then left the patients room and exited the building. Once outside, my mother immediately contacted the phone-number written on the card.
Not even an hour later we could already visit Mrs. or Dr. Richards in the main hospital building.
We were in the waiting room as the door to Dr. Richards room opened and a patient, a very pregnant woman, left. Next, me and mom were called forward. We shook hands with a stranger for the second time that day. I was guided to a small room secluded from the one where the doctor's desk stood. She was having a, what seemed to be earnest conversation with my mother, but the earnestness slowly faded as it progressed. Eventually, a relieved smile stood on the female doctor's face. She must've thought I was pregnant beforehand, my mother hadn't been able to explain the situation I was in yet during the phone call. After some nervous, and still uncomfortable laughter of the doctor and my mother (given the situation I'm actually in, and still the earnestness of it), the doctor gestured me through the window with the wave of an arm to enter the room they were in. We had already introduced ourselves, so Dr. Richards stood up to get straight to the point.
"Ms. Pasqual, I now understand what you're actually going through." She quickly glanced at my mother, who returned a careful smile. "That hadn't been clear to me through the phone call. Your mother said something about a 'mild emergency', so I made some space in my schedule for you."
I nodded. "Thank you for that."
The woman, who was pretty much radiating youthfulness, stretched her arms. The white coat came up to her hips because of that. "So... we talked it out, and I'd like to examine it for a bit."
I turned my eyes the other way.
"If you would please follow me to behind this curtain." She shoved it to the left, so it was half open, and I entered the place behind the curtain. The small room showed a table with a couple of instruments, and a bed with the downside lifted a bit upwards. The bed had small railings to its side, and connected to that, on each side, an object on which the patient, usually pregnant, could rest his legs, if she had to spread them.
"Miss, if you could please wait outside..." The doctor began, but my mother quickly obeyed. She set herself on a chair.
"Now then, ms. Pasqual, I'd like you to get rid of your trousers and underwear please. Then lay yourself on to the bed." I did what she told me to. As I was on the bed, I held an arm underneath me for support, and to see what the doctor was doing.
So there I lay, half naked, waiting for the woman to give me new instructions. I was starting to fidget again, subconsciously thinking I just had to go to the toilet soon. I had crossed my legs to at least somewhat cover my bare lower body, since my top was also quite short (a fashion thing, and because it was mid-summer), everything below my belly-button was now exposed, and vulnerable to the chilly air going through the room. I felt very uneasy in the environment, and it caused, mixed with the chill air, goosebumps to spread over my arms and legs. I snorted at the sheer irony of that happening.
Dr. Richards approached me. "Now, Sarah... it's fine if I call you that right?" I nodded. "Good. Now Sarah, All I'm going to do is take a quick peek at your privates, to see if, besides the pubic hair your mother has already told me about, there are some other oddities to spot on the surface." She then lifted one of my legs and uncrossed them. I didn't move a muscle, they only tensed. "I need you to spread those legs for me, so I'm going to lay them on here."
My hands gripped the side of my bed. I felt big discomfort with being in that position. Simultaneously, I felt both pressure and pleasure coming from my womb, while there came an almost irresistible urge to squat. I stayed put though, as the doctor took her time to inspect the folds of my labia.
After what felt like an eternity, she moved her head away from my crotch and focused on a paper on the table with instruments, mumbling something about pubic hair and feathers. I was too much focused on other things to actually hear what she was saying.
Not much later, my insides felt like they were contracting, and the pleasure became more like a nagging pleasure. I couldn't keep my legs spread any longer any more, so I shut them together, and went into a normal sitting position, in hopes for that pressure to magically fade, although most of my thoughts at that moment were that it was almost too far gone.
Dr. Richards turned to look at me and saw how tense I was. I held a hand between my legs to prevent anything from potentially leaking out, but another pleasurable contraction, and another, and another, and a last one, did the trick. The muscles in my legs relaxed, and my breathing, which apparently had stocked, returned to normal again.
My head was beet-red in shame. I spread my legs again, this time but a little bit, but I made sure I still held my hand in front of my crotch. A last push with my vaginal muscles, and the unwanted, orb-shaped intruder was out.
Supporting myself with my left hand, I was seated on the bed. In my right hand, I was now holding an egg, even larger than that of a chicken.