Cupped over the two mounds of B cup flesh, Patrick gasped in pleasure as his erect nipples brushed against the palms of the hands. Arching his back, pressing his breasts into those hands, he threw back his head and uttered another sound of pleasure as the unseen body thrust their long, hard organ back and forth, rubbing against the area betwixt Patrick's legs. A small part of him wanted to scream, "No. Can't you see I'm a guy," but it was drowned out by the part of him wanting this, which didn't give a fig as the two bodies moved against each other.
And as he breathed in the scent of the other's body, felt their erect member brush against the erect clit between his legs, Patrick found he desired nothing else but to feel the other's dick to push in and penetrate the secret, moist area between his legs. Wanting more than to feel the other's hands on his body, his lips kissing various areas, some erogenous, to have the other inside him, Patrick opened his eyes and prepared to wrap his legs around the other, to make it easier for the other to penetrate that needful area. Seeing not the guy he was making out with, but he was standing before a mirror, Patrick ran a hand over his body. Watching the reflected girl do the same over her dress, aware he had no bra or panties on underneath it, things shifted and he found himself holding up the hem of his dress. Exposed from the stomach down, finding his line of sight drawn first to his pinched waist, then his flat stomach, Patrick gazed at his crotch, now covered with a patch of neatly trimmed, short, soft, curly brown hair. Giggling, unable to stop himself, he moved in place until his legs were slightly spread and he could truly see he had nothing down there, he thought as he did this, "No balls and dick for me. Everything it as it's supposed to be."
With a start, Patrick's eyes snapped open and he sat up. Looking wildly around, his sleep addled mind couldn't make sense of anything. Still see and feeling the male body atop him, how good it had almost felt to be brought to a sexual climax, Patrick leapt out of his bed. Still looking madly about, seeing a room which was both familiar and unfamiliar, a mix of a teenage girl's and teen guy's bedroom, he dashed toward the full-body mirror. Stopping before it, seeing a girl peering back at him, his thoughts leapt to, "The programme finished making the changes whilst I slept."
But, as he shrugged off the fog of sleep and woke up more, he was able to soon put things together. Staring at the round, feminine face, the soft hair which now fell down past his shoulders, another experiment he'd tried, in which he was curious to know how long he could grow his hair and whether anyone would notice, Patrick pursed his full lips, wrinkled his button nose, and considered getting a haircut. Tearing his focus away from how he appeared from the neck up, Patrick gazed downward. Seeing the over-sized sleeper shirt he had on, the way the top pushed outward, he reached down to the hem of the garment and pulled upward. Exposing himself from the waist down, he breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the one thing which proved he was still a guy. Staring at his tiny dick and sack as he shucked off the sleep-wear, mulling over how he didn't had nuts but ovaries, his mind drifted to how six months was now closer to being almost a year.
He couldn't begin to count the number of times he'd come close to reversing what he'd done. Thinking on he ought to revert himself, should have done so the moment the deadline of six months had been up, Patrick thought of the excuses he told himself as to why he shouldn't, most of them him having to do with how it was all an experiment and he needed more information, more time. better understanding. But what it was he was searching for, it never seemed to come to him, to be available. Staring at the naked person reflected back at him, Patrick wondered what it was, or if there wasn't anything. Having told himself over and over he didn't want to be a girl, he suddenly found this reasoning rang false as he considered how more and more, he'd given in and acted, dressed, and for intents and purposes, passed himself off as a girl.
The exact reason he was able to do this, he wasn't entirely sure. Part of it he knew had to do with what he'd done to his own body. Giving himself tits, ovaries, removed his body hair, other things, he worked out it was why, except for his dick and nut sack, he looked like a girl, why a lot of people saw one when he was dressed, behaved like one. At the same time, he figured the programme also had something to do with it, as it somehow made it so no one was aware of the change, accepted what they saw was normal, whilst also making reality so fluidic he was easily able to pass himself off as female. Frowning at this, feeling he was missing something, Patrick thought of how he'd accepted everything, either right away, or over a period of time. Thinking of his dream, he found himself troubled by it, as he'd never had ever experienced anything like it before.
With a deep sigh, watching the way his chest moved as he did, Patrick asked him, "Did I alter things so far, I somehow managed to change my sexual orientation?"
Never before had Patrick given this any consideration. He took it for granted he was a guy, and therefore he must be attracted to girls. But now a sliver of doubt wormed its way in, and as he turned away from the mirror, he questioned whether this was true or not. Thinking of details of the dream, most of which were still fresh in his mind, he considered how he'd never own a dirty magazine, never looked up raunchy images online. When he'd masturbated, he'd always been able to get his rocks off without pictures and videos of woman in the throes of self-pleasure. Finding this hardly made him attracted to guys, Patrick found he was unable to shake the questions which now ate him as he considered how he'd never once asked a girl out, never felt the need to, always made the excuse they'd never go out with someone like him, as well as wondered if there was more to him not wanting to change in the men's locker room besides the concerns he'd had. Stepping over to the dresser, he tried to tell himself, "It's because I altered my body with that programme," but found he truly couldn't bring himself to believe this as he opened the top drawer and gazed at the contents within.
Over the past several months, it wasn't merely his room, the way people perceived him, which had changed, but also the way he dressed. Staring at the mixture of panties, bras, socks, tights, and nylons, Patrick mentally went over how somethings, such as the bras and swimsuits, had appeared, whilst other things he'd purchased, until the majority of clothes he owned were suitable for a girl. He knew there was still some things which were appropriate for dude, such as a number of shirts, shorts, and pyjama bottoms. But, for the most part, everything was what a girl would wear. Selecting a strapless bra and a pair of low-cut briefs, he took from two other drawers a tight tank top and a pair of shorts which buttoned up, sat low on his hips and rode high on his thighs. Dressing, he stepped back in front of the mirror, and was tempted to work his hair into a braid. Seeing how much of a girl he appeared to be, Patrick muttered, "No," and with a sense of decisiveness, feeling he'd taken the experiment too far, that he was in danger of becoming the one thing he'd didn't want, certain the dream was the perfect indicator he was on the cusp of become what he didn't want to be, he stalked across his room, sat down before the computer on his desk, and booted it up.
The moment he saw the desktop, he opened the Chronivac programme, logged into his profile, and was about to start making changes, when, once again, he hesitated. He didn't know why he continuously did, especially as he told himself he needed to fix the mess he was in. Yet, he found there was something about him which didn't want to give up, go back. "Sure," he reasoned, "growing and having a pair of tits wasn't all I thought it'd be. I wasn't able to answer any of the question I had. But, getting rid of them, is this the answer?"
Not sure how to answer this, Patrick worried his lower lip for a moment. Mulling over the question, feeling like he was missing something, he almost turned off the computer, but, at the last moment, thought, "I can't keep doing this," and setting to work, finding he hated himself what he was about to do, he reset his profile back to the way it'd originally had been, minus his need to wear glasses.