You look down at yourself, and blink. The first surprise is your nudity, the second is your breasts. You feel a surge of disappointment for a moment, they're no where near your preferred size, and then a surge of bewilderment. Breasts? What the heck is going on here? You lift your head and begin to speak, but the text changes.
EXCELLENT. BODY ACCEPTED.
"Now hold on a second..." your own voice, strident and piping, surprises you. It takes a moment to collect yourself. "Where am I? Who are you? And most importantly, why the heck am I in a woman's body?"
The text changes in the middle of your exclamation.
NOW WE'LL RUN THROUGH SOME TRAINING. It blinks for a moment than disappears. OH DEAR. THIS ISN'T THE BODY YOU REQUESTED MR. SMITH? Your eyes are wide. That's your name at least.
"No it's...requested? I just woke up here with you flashing your huge freaking sans serif text bullshit in my face. I couldn't even talk until just now."
OH DEAR. WELL THIS IS HIGHLY IRREGULAR. I'M AFRAID IT'S TOO LATE.
"Too late? I'm stuck as a woman?"
OH THAT YOU MAY BE ABLE TO CHANGE IN THE REST OF THE SYSTEM. NO I'M AFRAID YOUR BODY AND PHYSICAL BRAIN HAVE BEEN DESTROYED.
You sit down heavily, your bare ass coming into contact with the nondescript gray floor of the room. "My...my brain?"
YES MR. SMITH. IT SAYS HERE THAT YOU, JOHN SMITH, SIGNED ON FOR THE SUBSPACE HABITANCY SYSTEM TESTS. SHST?
You shake your head. Your hair you realize is a nice shade of red, and obnoxiously long. Your bangs keep falling your face.
OH DEAR. I AM SO VERY SORRY. BUT THERE'S NOT REALLY ANY GOING BACK. INFORMATION RETRIEVAL FROM THE SHS IS...DIFFICULT. BUT WE CAN CERTAINLY DO SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR BODY. OR RATHER YOU CAN, OR RATHER YOU CAN LEARN TO, I SUPPOSE.
You look up into the air and let out a scream of frustration, "Alright Mr. Text, a) fuck you, and 2) fuck you, fuck you, fuck...you!" You lean forward, resting your head in small hands and sob slightly. When you lift your head back up the text is there.
I REALLY AM SORRY. LISTEN THIS IS...I KNOW THIS IS BAD, BUT I WILL TRY TO HELP YOU GET ADAPTED OKAY? MY NAME'S MELANIE.
You snort, wiping your nose with the back of your hand, "Hi Melanie. I'm John...I mean...Jane?"
JOHN IS FINE, UNLESS YOU PREFER JANE?
You think for a moment and shake your head. "No. Fuck that. I'm getting my old body back. I'm still me. Even if I'm different." You stand up and brush your legs off, realizing you are fully female, and carrying more hair than you like. Whoever picked this body out had clearly not looked through your search history. Still, you were tall, athletic. You pause, "Hey Melanie, can I get a mirror? And some clothes?"
OH YES! I CAN DO THAT FOR YOU. BUT THEN, SO CAN YOU. YOU JUST NEED TO ACCESS THE SUBSACE CONTROL ROUTINES. YOU SHOULD FEEL THEM IN THE BACK OF YOUR SKULL LIKE A LOOSE MENTAL TOOTH.
"That doesn't make any..." you pause, "huh, you're right."
WE'VE GOTTEN A LOT OF FEEDBACK SINCE PHASE ONE. THOSE ROUTINES ARE NATURAL. YOU WILL DEVELOP THEM THE MORE YOU USE THEM, BUT ESSENTIALLY THE ALLOW YOU TO USE YOUR WILL ON THE SUBSPACE AROUND YOU.
"You keep saying Subspace?"
YEAH, IN THE YEAR 2020, DR JULIE TITUS DISCOVERED THE PRINCIPLES OF SUBSPACE COMPUTATION, AND ALL SYSTEMS WERE CONVERTED TO USING SUBSPACE NETWORKS.
"Oh yeah. Sorry, not a computer guy. So I..."
You think a moment and your brain trips over itself as you mentally press the weirdness in your skull and think the words "mirror" and "wardrobe". Both rise up out of the floor in front of you, the floor parting like liquid around them.
INTERESTING.
"What?"
EVERYONE INTERACTS WITH THE ROUTINES DIFFERENTLY. MOST PEOPLE BLINK AND A THING'S THERE WHEN THE RUN THE MATERIALIZE ROUTINE. YOURS RISE OUT OF THE GROUND FULLY FORMED.
"Cool, I guess." You look in the mirror. Your face is blotchy, partially with a thick coating of freckles also present on your shoulders and the tops of your breasts. You're not exactly flatchested, but you're close. You have a runners body with shoulder length coppery hair, blue eyes, and a coppery bush over your labia. Your legs are long and toned, and your ass is tight. You have to admit, even if you're not your personal blonde buxom preference, you are hot, especially when your nipples stiffen up like...wait. Are you getting aroused?
"Clothes...now..." you mutter, going to the wardrobe and opening it.The first drawer is full of your clothes from home and you realize these will all be too small on your taller frame. You close your eyes and then open a drawer with plain white underwear that you struggle into. It does fit perfectly.
IMPRESSIVE
"What now?"
OH JUST THAT YOU CHANGED IT AFTER YOU MADE IT. AND NATURALLY TOO.
You shrug, "Yeah, I'm great, whatever." You step into some cargo pants and a t-shirt big enough to help you forget about your breasts a little. You check the mirror and sigh. The shirt just drapes off of them. You grab a windbreaker and zip up. Much better. "So, where am I?"
NOWHERE. I MEAN SUBSPACE. BUT THIS LOCALE IS A FLOATING NODE UNCONNECTED TO THE REGULAR NETWORK OR THE SHS. I CAN LINK YOU INTO THE PUBLIC SOCIAL NODE IF YOU LIKE? THERE'S SUPPOSED TO BE SOME TRAINING HERE, BUT YOU SEEM CAPABLE ENOUGH.
"Yay." you sigh, "sorry, thanks Melanie. I do appreciate this. Let's see what this place is like." You feel nauseous and pained for a moment and a door fuzzes into being on the far wall. "Gah!"
WHAT?
"Warn a guy first?"
WHAT DO YOU MEAN JOHN?
"I felt that!"
THAT'S UNUSUAL.
"Unusual, impressive, interesting. I'm having a field day. Hope you're collecting lots of data."
There's a moment and then
YEAH TONS. GREAT STUFF JOHN.
"Whatever. Let's do this." You take a deep breath and open the door, realizing as you step through you are barefoot, but stopping suddenly when you see...