He found it hard to believe the programme could do what it claimed. To his way of looking at, it seemed more likely that what it actually did was something like those home and garden programme his mom ran on her computer that allowed to build fantasy houses and design mapped out gardens. Clicking through options, he studied each thing pulled up, noting he could change anything about himself. If he wanted a tail, horns, breath fire, be an Elf or Dwarf, the programme could do it. Did he desire to fly, have purple skin, be female, be a living plush animal, it claimed it could change him, as well as offering a timer option, for it to be permanent, as well as only him being aware of the changes, or nobody.
"No fucking way," he said for a second time, as it seemed all to out there to be believable.
After he'd gone through a number of the transformation available, he considered maybe he should show his friends. But, the instant he thought it, he decided he didn't want to. Whomever had sent him the programme had meant for him to have it. Figuring that if he was meant to share it, this TransDem Labs would have specified. Believing that he was at least right in this train of thought, he turned back to the laptop. Thinking about what he saw, he decided, "Hey, if it is a joke, maybe I'll use it for a character creator for Dungeons and Dragons."
Satisfied this was the best way to approach what he'd been sent, he considered what he should change about himself first. Rubbing a finger against his cheek, a habit of his when he was giving something serious thought, he stopped when his finger struck his glasses. Taking them off, his vision blurring to the point the most he could make out was fuzzy shapes, he put them back on and leaned closer to the keyboard. Typing commands, he deleted the option of him wearing glasses, adjusted his vision to near perfect, and finally adjusted his depth perception so that he was able to tell how far away and how close something was. Entering the input that it would be permanent, he also told the programme that only he would be aware of the change and hitting the command to execute, he was able to sit back and wait when a lance of pain shot through both of his eyes.
With a gasp, and several inarticulate sounds, he squeezed his eyes shut. The pain going back into his head, he somehow managed to reach up and yank off his glasses, and doing what he normally did when his eyes hurt, usually from reading in poor lighting conditions, he started to massage them. Finding it didn't help, he started to grow scared, and forcing himself up out of the chair, he dropped his glasses on his desk as he began to wave his hands as he hurried across his bedroom.
Mind on one thing, calling someone for help, maybe his parents, he was halfway back to the kitchen when the pain began to ease. By the time he'd reached the kitchen, it was gone, and opening his eyes, he gasped again when he actually saw the room around him in perfect clarity. Judging the distance he was away from the landline phone on the countertop, he muttered, "No fucking way," for a third time, and turning around, he headed back to his room, where he discovered the programme had altered more than his eyes, as not only were his glasses gone from where he dropped them, but the few pictures he had of him and his parents from when they'd gone on vacation a handful of times had all been altered so that the person next to his dad, his mom, both parents, no longer wore glasses.
Surprised by this, he flopped down in the chair and stared at the computer screen. Kenning the amount of power he now had at his finger tips, he was scared by what he might do, and what others would do if they found out about the programme. Hands shaking, he reached out to save his profile, but at the last minute locked it so that only he could access it. Saving it afterward, he sat back and let his mind wander as he considered all he could, and might, do.
"I could make myself athletic," he reasoned after a bit, but then decided he didn't want to, as he was happy with watching sports.
Thoughts of other issues he had in school, he suddenly came upon what he considered to be stroke of genius. Leaning toward the keyboard, he told himself, "I could be a girl. Maybe by being one, I might be able to learn how to talk them," and about to enter the commands to alter himself, he hesitated.
It wasn't that he didn't want to be female, he decided after some time. He was curious about how girls saw the world around, as well as why they behaved the same way they did. Rather, the thing that kept him from making himself into one was the notion that it was like throwing himself into the deep end of a pool in order to learn how to swim, something he'd done, and had almost drowned before he struggled back to the edge. Leaning back, he drummed a finger on the desk chair and mulled over the situation, wondering if he should change one thing, or regress himself back and get the perspective of being a girl first from a younger age.
After a bit, Patrick thought he had a solution. Figuring to start off small, he brought up certain boxes and started to enter commands. To his way of looking at, girls seemed obsessed with a number of things, with the four biggest being boys, their butts, hair, and boobs. Not wanting to give himself a fat behind, and liking his hair the length it was, he settled on giving himself breasts. Choosing to make the growth slow, he set it at a week’s time for it would take for him to grow a pair of pert, firm, alabaster hued B cup breasts with pale pink nipples that were always erect. Finding he was unsure how to justify why he had breasts when the rest of those around him didn’t, he considered making it so he had the genes to do so and that his body produced the hormones to grow the mammaries, but growing flustered about it, he instead changed his testicles to ovaries, left them in his scrotum, adjusted them so that they produced ova rather then sperm, and satisfied, he made a few last minutes changes, including what sort of bras to wear, once he saw the programme offered it, how he'd never have breast cancer, if he kept his breasts, they way, with the exception of what was on his head and his eyebrows, his body would be hairless, and that the change would be permanent unless he, and only he, made the alterations, as well as making it so that only he would be aware of the transformation.
With one last check over everything, Patrick whispered, "Here goes nothing," as he clicked on the option to execute.
At first, nothing happened. Curious to know how it'd be different, and certain it wouldn't be as painful, he shifted in his seat. Suddenly finding not only was it uncomfortable to be doing so, like someone was pressing against his balls, but also that he needed to pee really badly, the teenage boy leapt up and raced out of the room. Barely making it to the bathroom in time, he pushed his jeans and underwear down and as if it was the most normal thing in the world, sat down to pee, unaware that his body was forcing more than simply urine out as it expelled every last drop of semen. Feeling relieved, yet also drained, he sighed when he finally stopped after about five minutes or so. Reaching for a bit of toilet paper to wipe himself, he thought, "That was odd, to say the least," and finishing up, still unaware that he'd done his business like a girl, he stood, flushed, and decided to get something to drink as he pondered over how his body would change over the next week and what it'd be like to grow tits.