Truth be told, Patrick discovered growing boobs wasn't as great as he'd thought. They itched at first, were uncomfortable if they rubbed against the wrong thing, and were sensitive to touch. And if that wasn't so bad, the teenage boy found them at first lopsided, as first his left side pushed out into a breast bud, the nipple and surrounding area becoming more pronounced and turning a shade of pale pink, before after a day or so, the right side followed suit. Finding this bothersome, it took him a couple days before he found the best thing to wear was soft cottons as he struggled to get used to the changes he'd inflicted on his body as he tried to get used to what his body was doing.
For it wasn't simply that his chest was getting bigger he found. Before his breast bud even first appeared, he became aware of other changes, as his skin softened, something he couldn't explain, and what hair he had on his arms, legs, chest, groin, under his armpits, and the pitiful excuse he could manage for a beard and moustache fell out. Both of these things he found were easy to deal with. What wasn't was when he discovered his nuts and dick were also transforming. Feeling unsure about this, he found he hadn't counted on that both would shrink in size, with his sack pulling tight against his body as his privates shifted lower until they almost between his legs and were roughly the size of what it hadn't been when he was about two years old. Thinking it wouldn't be too bad, he was disappointed when he still could get turned on, but was unable to get an erection, as well as it was difficult for him to hold his cock when he peed, forcing him to pee sitting down like a girl, which he wasn't sure how to take it that this not only felt so natural, it was also more comfortable to do so.
When the week had finally passed, he was almost grateful. But then he found himself confronted by a something he hadn't foreseen. Finding himself feeling self-conscious of not only his tits, but also his body in general, he wondered what had gone wrong, or if all girls felt the way he did. Wanting to ask someone else, he found that he couldn't bring himself to, as the only person it seemed like he could talk to was his mom, something that seemed weird. Struggling to make sense of what all that happened, thinking it must be in some way related to the changes he'd made to his body, he let the days play out around him as he, at first, hid the fact that he now had breasts. And when it seemed no one would say anything, not even when he changed for gym class, a right pain he learned as it meant he had to wear sports bras or a top if they used the pool, he started to grow comfortable enough to at least stop wearing baggy shirts that hid them, but would not wear anything tight enough to show off his cleavage or draw attention to them, such as making them look fuller.
A sigh escaped Patrick as he sat before his laptop and went back over the last three and half weeks. Thoughts going over all that had happened and all he'd discovered, he soon settled on how he was wearing a pair of whitish-pink loose pyjama bottoms, no underwear, a sleeper shirt with a kawaii panda printed on it, and smelling strongly of the scented bath soap and lotion he'd used. Everyone still considered him a guy, even his friends, who he hung out with and gamed with, but Patrick had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn't really male any longer. His dresser was now stocked with bras, yes, but some of his other clothes had changed, like the sleepwear he currently had on. He went to the bathroom like a girl would, but wouldn't dare trying to use the girl's bathroom. And when he walked, stood, even how he sometimes sound, it was all rather feminine, leaving him to wonder if, somehow, when he'd made the changes, he had done something wrong, or if he’d accidentally made himself transgender.
"And if I am, am I guy who wants to be a girl? Or a girl who wants to be a guy?" he muttered as he booted up his laptop and clicked on the icon for the Chronivac programme.
Information popped up on the screen, but he didn't click on anything else. Finding he had no answer to his question, he hugged himself. His sleeper shirt pulled tight enough for his nipples to be seen through the fabric, he wondered if maybe he should change himself back, alter something else about himself further, or maybe turn himself more female. Mulling it over, he found that, once he'd gotten used to having tits, it wasn't so bad. Sure, they'd gotten in the way at first, and he'd been forced to learn where to place stuff or to not to lean to close to a cupboard door when he opened one, among other issues. But he'd adjusted, just as he'd gotten used to the fact that he still got turned on by the sight of girls, but couldn't get an erection, nor could he jerk off any longer.
His thoughts on what he saws as his baby cock and scrotum, he glanced down at the pyjama lounge pants he had on. Neither making any sort of bulge in the fabric, he considered that since he still had male equipment, it made him a guy, but found it doubtful as he recalled how he'd changed his testicles into ovaries and what they now produced. Tapping out commands, he brought up information on his profile, and shifting in place, feeling as he did the small package he now possessed rub against the soft fabric of his sleepwear as well as his creamy white thighs, Patrick read what was printed as he considered if he should change anything else, or leave things as they were.
"Should I change myself back, despite how I've grown used to having breasts? Or should transform something else? Maybe further my change to that of a teenage girl," he mumbled to himself and about to click on something he stopped.
Before him, he saw a readout of his hormone levels. Finding it couldn't be right, he clicked on and brought up more boxes, and was startled to find his male hormones were really low, almost nonexistent, whilst his female hormones were normal for a sixteen year old, and that it wasn't just the ovaries that were producing them, but other areas, though in smaller amounts. Confused why this was, as he hadn't told any of this to be changed, Patrick sat back. One leg dangling over the edge of his chair, the other brought up so his foot was placed flat on the seat, he wrapped his arms around his leg. No longer bothered by the feeling of something pressed into his chest, Patrick absently chewed his lower lip as he thought. After some time, he reiterated the question he'd asked himself moments ago, but found he didn't have an answer.