Charlie was on fraud charges and he was trying to leave the country. ICE and the FBI had picked him up at O'Hare airport and he was trapped in the disable toilets trying to leave the country. The Fixer was a rouge genetic scientist who worked with nano-bots. She had warned Charlie that every time he used the bots he was making his own DNA more corrupted. He had no choice, he needed to flee to Switzerland where he had citizenship through his mother.
He opened the can off nano-bots, it was disguised as an energy drink and cost him $500,000 per hit. He threw back his head and swallowed the contents of the metallic mixture. At first he felt nothing then he started to sweat, moisture was rolling down his cheeks, face and turning his shirt wet. Here we go, he thought. The change sent his sex drive through the roof, it was a side effect of the change.
He hit the tiles of the bathroom floor as the heat went to his crotch, it was like lava was being poured onto his cock. In his mind he imagined being penetrated by the cock of that FBI agent. His cock was throbbing like a pump as he groaned, his cock blew his load into his pants. It started to then deform and shrivel up as he felt the bulge in his crotch become flat skin that exposed an opening.
Charlie found that his nipples were hard, uber sensitive and rubbing of fabric against them was driving her crazy. She stripped off her tie was she felt the mass underneath her shirt expand, the swelling masses pushed the fabric away from her chest allowing her to look at the gap in her cleavage. As her chest shrunk in size. Unrestrained by a bra her boobies wobbled and sway in a way that made getting up difficult. Bras were a necessary evil.
Charlie felt her hair growing longer and changing color from plain brown to jet black. Her skin tanned to a rich dark hue that showed her to have as her nipples grew darker in color. She could be anything from part African part white, to having Indian blood in her ancestry to something more local like Mexico. She had picked this skin color as it could be Rhianna, a Rosario Dawson or a tanned Rhona Mitra. Her boobs swung in accordance with a form of physics that she still didn't understand. There was something to be said for being born a woman and learning how the female body worked over years and not minutes.
Panting like a bitch in heat she felt her arms tingle and start to change her arms became smaller and more delicate, the nails longer and finer. Bones cracked as her hips developed from those designed to impregnate to those designed to give birth. Her ass swelled to fill out her pants that otherwise would have fallen down her thinning legs. Her loafers were several sizes to big for her smaller feet. Her business shirt was loose on her lithe frame however her boobs and nipples pushed into the fabric, leaving nothing to the imagination. Buttons strained under the pressure of Charlie's tits. Buttons popped and shot off.
Charlie stood and rearranged herself in the mirror.
"Fuck I am hot." she thought as she took in her body.
Her tits were pushing into the fabric of her shirt exposing her belly button. Charlene, as was her new name in this form, used the extra fabric and unbuttoned her shirt. Her tits pushed out into the air with a near perfect symmetry. Both the same size they proudly thrust their jiggling mass into the air. Charlene was staring at her tits wondering if she were pregnant whether they would grow bigger or would sage. With a superhuman effort of will she got her mind back onto trying to salvage her outfit.
Having lost several inches in height Charlene grabbed her hair into a messy pony tail that would look presentable and tightened the slacks on her legs by folding them up to make it look like she was a business woman. But her melons made the whole show look ridiculous, like Pamela Anderson trying to host a board meeting. The horniness however was getting the better of her, she needed dick. It was like a bad side effect of changing genders into this form. She would try and use it to help her escape the authorities.