Chapter 3

Malcolm is leaning back in her chair, tapping a pen on the arm rest. In his other hand is the completed formula. He has done it. With the help of the former Dr. Conners’ notes and a bit of ingenuity on his part, he has done it in under a week. But there are a few things that bother him right now.

After seeing his boss screwing the young woman and agreeing to his terms, Malcolm has constantly thought about it. He wonders about just how far Rick will go to succeed and if he can be trusted to keep his word. If he loses his job then he is certain Mio isn’t going anywhere. But what if he hands it over for someone else to do trials? Does Bridget get the credit and wealth that will follow? Malcolm certainly can’t take on the trials himself because then he’ll certainly lose Mio.

And then there is the mysteries circumstance of Dr. Conners’ death. He was told she had died in a lab fire, but yet her notes are here and unscathed. Maybe the fire happened in another lab? According to Rick it was this lab. Maybe she got close and Rick thought he could finish it, so he eliminated her but wasn’t able to finish. Or maybe Bridget had something to do with it.

Malcolm tosses the pen on the desk and begins slowly turning the vial in his hands. “I could just skip all the bullshit,” he mumbles aloud. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Of course scenarios of the worst things do run through his head. He could be forever changed into a woman. He could get in trouble for illegal human experimentation. He could lose his job. And who knows what else.

“I’m sure I can come up with a reversal,” he thinks out loud.

But would he be able figure out a way to lessen his hours in order to keep his promise to his girlfriend. Would he be able to delay his boss long enough to make a reversal? Most likely not.

“I have no choice,” he grumbles. “It has to be done.”

Malcolm glances at the clock. It’s almost midnight. He has been home later—much later—before. He places his thumb on the stopper and pauses. This is it. There is no turning back. Once it’s done, it’s done. He takes a deep breath and slowly let it out and then pushes with his thumb. The stopper flies through the air, almost in slow motion for him. It bounces first on the desk, then the keyboard and then finally the floor where it slowly rolls into the shadows.

Malcolm’s heart is thudding heavily in his chest. He is filled with a mixture of uncertainty, excitement and fear. Don’t be a pussy. He tries to psyche himself up to it. The fear and uncertainty is ganging up on the excitement, threatening to make the man chicken out. But before anymore doubt can creep up into his mind, Malcolm lifts the vial and presses it to his lips. This is it. The last chance. End of the line. He ignores the thoughts, throws back his head and swallows the black contents.

Malcolm swallows hard and sits forward. Nothing happens. Does he expect something to right away? Hell yes he does. Why wouldn’t it? This is a body altering chemical, one that targets the very core of his being. Or maybe he wants it to work quickly because of all that is at risk. Maybe it will be a slow changing process.

Or maybe not.

Malcolm feels a weird bubbling coming from the lower part of his belly straight down to his balls. The feeling is not unpleasant. He arches his back suddenly and moans loudly in pleasure.

Malcolm also feels something in his chest rising, like a fizzy, bubbling. Then it begins to expand! The man is shocked at the sight of his chest growing larger and larger. But it doesn’t grow like that of a man’s chest, but a woman’s. They increase to an enormous size and it isn’t long before his shirt can no longer contain them. They burst, tearing right through the fabric!

He doesn’t know if he should love or hate the feeling of his new breasts growing to an enormous size, but he certainly does enjoy the feeling. He calls out in ecstasy and grabs the rapidly expanding breasts. Soon he is left panting on the floor, recovering from the sensation and squeezing his new breasts.

But it isn’t over. Suddenly, Malcolm is hit with the feeling that his backside is being stimulated. He leans his head back and groans. The pressure back there begins to build, and a cylindrical lump appears in his pants. And it’s growing!

The lump gets thicker and longer. It doubles and then doubles and then doubles again. It keeps going until it blasts through the material of his pants and flops heavily on the floor. Malcolm sits up and twists to look back to see what has happened to him. He can’t believe the sight of the tail sticking out of his backside. It is unbelievable and not supposed to happen at all.

“What the fuck is that?” he says loudly, not thinking about there not being anyone else there to explain any of this to him.

But none of it is over—not yet.

“Fuck!” he shouts, both furious at what he has done and the fact that he is aroused by the new sight before him. His cock is growing.

Malcolm had a fairly good sized cock, but this is so much different. It grows and grows and grows into something more than fairly good sized. When it finally stops it is like a jumbled mass inside his pants. He stands up. It is enormous. And the sight of it brings even more arousal to the man, making it harden. It begins to grow even more to rip through the fabric and point upward. And it feels amazing.

He casually walks toward the door, stopping by a large mirror on the wall beside it. Looking into it, Malcolm is someone else—something else—entirely. His once bulky, manly form is gone, replaced by a tall, lithe creature with smooth, silky skin of a bluish-black tone. Her large breast hang perkily from her chest, her large cock, now soft again, dangles gloriously between her legs.

She smiles as her tail whips back and forth behind her. Adorning her head are two horns, much like horns of a bull. Bluish-black hair drapes down over hair shoulders and down her back. Her eyes drop lower, settling on her taut belly. She has an abdomen like never before. She is a glorious creature with a burning need, a burning lust. Now it’s time for things to get interesting. Fuck Malcolm and his feministic ways. And she is worthy of a new name.

Xenora.

That will be her name. Yes, Xenora has a nice ring to it. She smiles at herself, content with herself. Then an urge surges in her—that burning need, the burning lust. Yes. She needs to satisfy it, she has to cure it, she wants to feed it. But these tattered clothes won’t do, they just don’t fit her new look. Not at all.

She tears away the material to stand in all her glory before the mirror. A stirring in her cock at the sight of herself causes it to twitch. A new smile forms on her face. The need for satisfaction is strong, almost unbearable, but her first act is not going to be self-satisfaction. Then as if conjured by magic clothing begins to form.

Long, silky stockings cover her legs up to just above her thighs. Boots form next, coming to a point just below her knees. A waist cape drapes over her hanging cock, covering it perfectly from sight and drapes elegantly to the floor behind her. It does nothing to hide her tail but Xenora won’t need it hidden for long. A decadent sheer, long sleeve robe falls from her shoulders with a faux leather strap slipping across the underside of her breasts completes the ensemble.

Satisfied with her appearance, Xenora steps out of the lab and into the hallway. The hall is empty, which is expected at this time of night. Most likely the entire building is empty. I will just to find my prey outside then. She takes the elevator to the bottom floor and exists with the surprise of seeing the security guard doing her rounds.