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o The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety of stories. o
o They have been submitted by people from all over the world. Also o
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Body Works (F, fant, tg, no sex)
By Anonymous Author c 1995
***
Tracy Lee Smith stared at her nude reflection in the mirror.
She knew every inch, every statistic associated with her
refection. She was five foot three and one half inches tall,
weighed 105 pounds soaking wet.
Her measurements were 33-24-35, a perfect size five, although
she could wear a size six equally as well. Her shoe size was
also a size 6, 6B to be exact. She wore a size 4 panties and a
32 B bra.
Her high firm breasts were neither too large nor too small for
her slender appearing body. Long blonde hair fell in lose waves
to just below her shoulders, accenting her golden tan.
It was a beautiful body she knew, one that caused long admiring
looks from men and quick jealous glances from women.
A body in excellent physical health and tone, obviously a woman
who exercised frequently to keep herself in shape. A perfect
body... except for one little problem. It wasn't the body she
had been born with.
In fact, until she had been so rudely thrust into the body, it
hadn't even been one of her own gender.
Until a week ago, Tracy Lee Smith had been a man.
-0-0-0-
"Now Tracy, until you settle down we won't be able to finish
the tests."
"But I don't feel sick, doctor." Tracy said squirming
uncomfortably as the gray haired doctor attached some
electrodes to his chest. The conductive cream on the rubber
cups was cold against his skin. He stared at the ceiling of the
examination room, willing himself to ignore the cold
electrodes.
"Right at this minute, yes. But as I've told you, you could
drop over dead at any second." The doctor said, as he adjusted
some dials on a machine sitting next to the examination table.
Tracy glanced over at the machine and watched a needle on a
dial swing wildly from one side to the other. He looked up at
the ceiling again.
In spite of his assertion that he was feeling fine, he felt a
his stomach become a little queasy.
"What is that thing supposed to show?" Tracy indicated with a
nod of his head the machine the doctor was adjusting.
"It measures your heart rate, among other things. Now be still
until I finish the reading." The doctor commanded.
Tracy resumed watching the ceiling. In the half hour he had
been laying on his back, covered with only a small towel over
his hips, the ceiling hadn't moved an inch. The doctor moved
the small lamp that was illuminating the room, sending the
ceiling into darker shadows.
Tracy closed his eyes and sighed.
He must have fallen asleep; he realized when the doctor removed
the rubber cups with a quick snap of his wrist. Tracy rubbed
his eyes and yawned.
"Are you about through with that?" He was relaxed from his
little nap, but still annoyed that the doctor would ruin his
afternoon like he had.
"All done. While you were taking you nap, I managed to complete
all of the necessary tests." The doctor walked to the doorway
and flipped a light switch on. The bright fluorescent lights
momentarily blinded Tracy, causing him to blink.
"You can get dressed now. When you're ready, come to my office
and we'll discuss the tests results."
A few minutes later Tracy knocked on the doctor's office door.
The doctor invited him in and Tracy opened the door.
"Please sit down, Tracy. We have a lot to talk about."
Tracy sat down in the easy chair across from the doctor.
"Tracy, I'm afraid that I have rather bad news for you." The
doctor began gravely. "You're dying."
"So you've said." Tracy said. His tone was almost defensive.
All this talk about him dying was making him nervous. "I think
you're wrong, I feel fine."
The doctor sighed. "I know. But all the tests indicate that you
won't live much more than five or six months. Your heart could
give out just like that."
The doctor snapped his fingers. "Or it could slowly deteriorate
until it just quits. Either way, you'll die.
"Is there anything we can do? A heart transplant or something?"
Tracy asked hopefully.
The doctor shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. Not even a heart
transplant will help. The only thing that would save you is a
complete new body."
Tracy looked dejectedly down at the floor. The doctor's
diagnosis was exactly the same as the three other doctors he
had seen. There was no hope.
It wasn't as though he'd abused his body. He'd exercised
regularly, didn't smoke or drink and ate the right kinds of
foods. Despite his careful regiment, the doctors had all told
him the same thing, he was dying.
"I see." Tracy started to rise. The doctor stopped him.
"Wait, Mr. Smith. I said that a heart transplant wouldn't
work."
"So you said." Tracy looked at the doctor expectantly.
"I read that there's an experimental transplant research going
on over at the University Medical Center. It involves whole
body transplants."
"Whole body transplants?" Tracy sat back down in the chair.
"Well, not exactly the whole body. It seems that what they do
is transplant a part of the brain, the part that contains the
personality of the patient, into the brain of the donor."
"A brain transplant? That sounds like something out of a
science fiction movie. It isn't possible is it?"
"The Doctors at the Center seem to think so." The doctor grew
silent while he waited for Tracy to digest the implications.
"Mr. Smith, I'd like to sign you up for the program."
Tracy hesitated. "A brain transplant? I, I'm not sure..."
"Mr. Smith... Tracy, you have nothing to lose. At worse you'll
die in six months anyway. At best, you'll have a new life with
many years ahead of you."
The doctor smiled and pushed a stack of papers across his desk
to Tracy. "Go ahead and sign, Tracy, you've got nothing to
lose."
Tracy picked up the pen and began signing the consent forms.
When he had signed the last one he felt as though a weight had
been removed from his shoulders. All he had to do now is wait.
He hoped it wouldn't be too long.
-0-0-0-
The young messenger handed the clerk the thick envelope. As she
took it the young man leered at her, causing her to blush. She
signed the receipt and dismissed him with her eyes.
"Thanks a lot, gorgeous." The messenger leered again.
"Your welcome, creep." The woman said under her breath. She
waited until the messenger left the room before she opened the
envelope. It was an application for the experimental brain
transplant program.
"What is it, Mary?" A woman asked from behind her.
"An application for the brain transplant program, Mrs. Harris."
Mary said.
She read the cover letter from the doctor. "Looks like just
what the doctors are looking for."
She thumbed through the release forms. "Damn, why don't they
fill these things out properly?"
"What's the matter?"
"The doctor forgot to fill out the sex of the patient."
Mrs. Harris glanced at the forms in Mary's hand. "What's the
name?"
"Tracy Lee Smith."
"Tracy Leigh? Pretty name. Sounds like she's a girl, Mary. Mark
'female' in the gender blanks and send it up to the committee."
"Yes, ma'am." Mary did as she was told.
-0-0-0-
"Well, Doctors, it would appear that we have a donor and a
recipient that are a match." Doctor Hiram Bradshaw said to the
Ethics committee.
The doctors looked excitedly at each other. "How close?" One of
the doctors asked.
Bradshaw looked at his notes again. "Out of a possible 100
points, they're a match at 96 points. They could be siblings."
"If they're that close, then why did you call us together?"
Another doctor asked. "Both have volunteered for the program,
otherwise we wouldn't have even cross matched them. You don't
need the Ethics Committee to decide whether or not to proceed."
"Under normal circumstances, no. But this is a rather unusual
case."
Bradshaw paused. For the thousandth time he wondered how such a
mistake could have happened. "I believe I already mentioned
that the patient and the donor could be siblings."
The committee nodded as one in confirmation.
"The problem is if they were, they would be brother and sister.
They are different genders, Doctors. So the question you must
decide tonight is do we deny the transplant and allow the
recipient to die, or do we proceed and turn a young man into a
young woman?"
"Is there another patient or donor that we could use instead?"
"No."
The Doctors looked at each other for a few minutes, each lost
in their own thoughts. Sometimes, the Ethics Committee had to
decide more than just the black and white decisions of life or
death.
"Has this been discussed with the patient?"
Doctor Bradshaw shook his head. "No. The error wasn't
discovered until the patient had been prepped and was in the
operating room."
"They're ready to proceed now?"
Doctor Bradshaw's silence confirmed the fact. The doctors
looked at each other again and nodded to the Ethics Committee
Chairperson, a brilliant young
Gynecologist by the name of Nancy Webb.
"The Committee recommends that you proceed, Doctor Bradshaw."
She said.
Doctor Bradshaw smiled and gave the committee a slight nod. Now
no matter what happened it was no longer his responsibility.
"Thank you Doctors."
-0-0-0-
Tracy almost panicked when he realized that he couldn't move.
His fledgling struggles stopped when he heard a woman's voice
telling him to relax.
Tracy opened his eyes and looked up at the woman. She smiled
back down at him.
"Hello Tracy. My name is Doctor Webb, I'm the Chief of Staff
and Chair the
Ethics Committee. The operation was a total success, Tracy.
You'll be able to get up and walk around tomorrow. But in the
meantime, I've ordered bed rest, to allow you to adjust to your
new body."
Tracy blinked his eyes. His new body... his mind was in someone
else's body. That would take some getting use to. He wondered
if he would be as tall as he had been before.
"How do I look?" Tracy managed to crock out. His throat was
still sore from the tubes he knew they had stuck in him. His
voice sounded a little strange, as though he had changed from a
bass to a tenor.
"Under the circumstances, quite good really." The doctor
smiled. "The donor was in excellent health and condition. I
think that you'll find it will service you well for many years
to come."
Years? "How old?"
"I believe the donor's records indicated that you will be
celebrating your twentieth birthday in another two months."
My new body is only nineteen!, Tracy thought. He'd lost nearly
twenty years off of his real age. My, God, what I can do with
another twenty years added to my life, Tracy thought. His
thoughts were interrupted by a sharp pick in his arm. He
glanced down just as the doctor removed a syringe.
"I think that you need to sleep now, Tracy." She said smiling.
"When you wake up again, you'll be in your room, and on the way
to recovery."
Tracy tried to thank the doctor but was asleep before he could
open his mouth.
-0-0-0-
"Ah, we meet again, Tracy." Doctor Webb smiled down at Tracy
when he opened his eyes. Tracy looked around the room. He was
in the hospital room he'd been assigned, or one just like it,
his hands seemed to be held down by restraints.
"How are you feeling?"
"Fine." Tracy said truthfully. In fact he'd never felt more
alive in his life. It was amazing what a new healthy body
twenty younger could do for you.
"I need to do some tests." The doctor smiled and moved to the
end of the bed. "So if you'll bare with me for a while...." She
ran her thumbnail along the sole of Tracy's foot. It jerked.
The doctor did the same test with the other foot with the same
results.
"Now wiggle you toes." The doctor watched intently as Tracy did
as he'd been ordered. She proceeded to check his fingers, all
appeared to be working as nature intended.
"I have to go to the bathroom." Tracy said, feeling a pressure
in his bladder.
"That's the catheter. It makes you think that you have to go,
actually it does the work for you. Tomorrow we'll remove it."
Tracy nodded, there wasn't much to say about it. Still, it was
an odd, strangely unsatisfying feeling.
"Can you at least remove the restraints from my wrists?" Tracy
asked.
"No, not yet. There is still a lot of tubes sticking in your
arms and we don't want you to disturb them just yet."
Tracy protest that he wouldn't was cut short by the firm
"doctor knows best" look the doctor shot him. Tracy sighed and
resolved himself to being confined to bed for a while longer.
"But what if I get hungry?"
"The orderly will feed you." Doctor Webb patted his thigh.
"Don't rush it. You'll be up and out of here in less than a
week."
"Yeah, sure." Tracy replied.
They chatted for a while until the doctor's pager went off. She
glanced at the number and excused herself, leaving Tracy alone
with his new body and his thoughts.
About an hour later, an orderly, a very attractive young woman,
came in with lunch. Tracy knew he hadn't eaten in over 24
hours, but could eat only half of it before feeling full. The
orderly put the Television remote control in his hand and left
the room.
Tracy turned on the TV and ran it through the entire range of
channels.
Nothing much interested him, so he turned down the sound to a
whisper and left it on. If nothing else, it would be a passive
companion.
Tracy was bored. And with boredom, came the chance to think
about his new body. Since he was restrained hand and foot, he
could do nothing more than try to explore his body with his
mind. Concentrating on each feeling until he could identify it,
Tracy went about mentally exploring his body.
Some sensations, like the catheter hose taped to his inner
thigh were easy to identify and catalog. Others, such as the
strange feeling of sensitivity as the sheet rubbed across his
chest were not.
Some things he just guessed at. Like his height, he knew he was
shorter than he had been before, and consequently probably
weighed less too.
Tracy couldn't shake the feeling that there was something wrong
with his body. It wasn't just that it wasn't his, it was more
than that. There were subtle differences that he could feel,
some like his guess about his height were difficult to explain.
Some were less so, like the weight on his chest. The donor had
obviously worked out a lot, and had developed his pectoral
muscles almost to the point of being grotesque.
He had neatly cataloged his body, or at least most of it when
he began to notice a warm tickle of liquid flowing down ward
between his legs. Concerned that the catheter had sprung a
leak, Tracy pushed the buzzer button to summon the nurse.
A few minutes later, an attractive nurse he'd never seen before
came into the room.
"I'm Nurse Webster. Is there something wrong, Tracy?" She
asked.
Tracy wondered briefly why all of the medical staff kept using
his first name. He was unaware that they had been given orders
to use his first name to prevent a slip. In his current body,
he certainly didn't look like a Mister.
Tracy explained what he thought had occurred. The nurse raised
the sheet and his hospital gown and carefully inspected the
area in question.
"It's alright. You must be imagining things. Besides what
little leakage their might be will be caught by the under pad."
She turned to leave.
"Wait Nurse, please." She turned around and waited. "I've been
laying here since I woke up this morning. There's something I
have to know."
A strange look crossed the nurse's face. "Certainly Tracy, I'll
tell you if I can."
"What color are my eyes and hair?"
"Blue and blonde, in that order. Now, if you'll excuse me..."
She said spinning on her heel and walking out of the room
leaving Tracy with nothing more than a memory of her terrific
looking figure.
A blue-eyed blond, Tracy thought.
Just after dinner, Doctor Webb returned along with another
doctor
Tracy thought he recognized.
"Good evening Tracy, how are you feeling now?" Doctor Webb
asked.
Tracy glanced at the other doctor.
"Oh, excuse me. This is Doctor Bradshaw, he's the Doctor that
headed the surgical team in your transplant." Doctor Bradshaw
nodded, but remained silent, he was busy doing the same tests
Doctor Webb had performed earlier that day.
"Doctor Webb? I want to know something."
She looked expectantly at Tracy.
"Is this new body of mine a girl?"
The doctors glanced at each other. "Uh, what makes you think
that?"
Doctor Webb asked.
"I didn't have anything else better to do, so I took a mental
inventory.
It's not so much what I felt, but what I didn't feel that made
me come to that conclusion."
The doctors glanced at each other again. An unspoken question
was asked and answered.
"Uh, yes, it's a female." Doctor Bradshaw confirmed. Tracy
could feel his world drop out from underneath him.
"A blue eyed blonde?"
"How did you know?" Doctor Webb asked surprised.
"I asked." Tracy said quietly.
"I see. Well, there's no more use for the restraints, now is
there?"
Doctor Webb said, more to Bradshaw than to Tracy.
Bradshaw shook his head and pushed the nurse's call button. A
few seconds later the nurse who had told Tracy that he was a
blonde came into the room.
"Yes, Doctors?"
"Please remove Miss Smith's restraints and IV's nurse." Webb
said to the white clad woman.
MISS Smith? Tracy thought in wonder as the nurse released first
the restraints on his ankles then his wrists.
Even though the restraints had been well padded, Tracy rubbed
his wrists.
He was stunned to see how slender and feminine his hands and
wrists looked.
He twisted his palms away from him and studied his slender
fingers. The skin on the digits was smooth and firm, roughly
confirming his new age. He turned them over and looked at the
palms.
"No calluses." He said surprised.
"Young women of the donor's age rarely have them." Bradshaw
supplied.
Tracy looked up at the two doctors. "Tell me something about
my, uh, donor." The "uh" was when the nurse removed the
catheter. It was a relief to have it out, but it still felt
like it was still inserted. Tracy resisted the urge to go
exploring.
Doctor Bradshaw glanced at the catheter the nurse was putting
in a biological hazard soils bag. "That reminds me. If you feel
the urge to go to the bathroom, ring for a bedpan. I don't want
you out of bed just yet."
"Right now, I couldn't even sit up, let alone get out of this
bed, doctor."
Tracy smiled weakly.
"And for the next week, I don't want you wandering around by
yourself.
I've assigned Nurse Webster here," The nurse glanced up and
smiled at the mention of her name. "to be your constant
companion."
"A baby sitter?" Tracy asked feeling slightly insulted.
"If you want to use that term, yes. She will be your baby
sitter." Bradshaw sighed. "Tracy, look, I know you feel
alright. But you must realize that for a while at least, your
body will be a stranger to you. Until you learn to control it,
it might do things that might be either embarrassing or harmful
to you."
"It's strange alright." Tracy deadpanned, bringing a giggle to
Nurse Webster.
"Nurse Webster is also our Nurse Instructor for the
University's classes on Human Sexuality. She will, uh, teach
you how to be comfortable with your new body, Miss Smith."
"I can hardly wait." Tracy said dryly.
The two doctors spoke for about an hour longer before leaving,
satisfied that Tracy Lee Smith, ex-male wouldn't go off the
deep end when they left.
Right after dinner, he was given another injection and quickly
fell asleep.
He hadn't had the chance to explore his new body.
-0-0-0-
Daylight was barely streaming through the pulled draperies of
Tracy's room when Nurse Webster came in carrying a large paper
bag. "Come on sleepyhead, time for your bath." She announced.
Tracy groaned and covered his eyes with his forearm when
Webster pulled the drapes open. "I don't want a bath."
Webster looked at her charge thoughtfully. "Okay, how about a
shower then?"
Tracy was wide-awake. "A shower, does that mean that I can get
out of this damned bed?"
"If you take it slow and easy, yes." Webster watched in
amusement as Tracy whipped the cover back.
When he started to sit up, however, Nurse Webster was right at
the edge of the bed supporting him. Even though he was almost
prepared for it, his stomach did a quick flip-flop when he felt
the weight of his breasts on his chest.
Tracy held his hand on Webster's shoulder until his stomach
settled down a little. Nodding he was ready to try standing,
Tracy scooted forward a bit and allowed his the calves of his
legs to stretch over the side. Webster helped Tracy swing his
legs over the side of the railing.
Tracy and Webster were eyeball to eyeball. Tracy was panting
with the effort.
"Wait a second. Let's be sure we know what we're going to do. I
want you to grip onto the edge of the bed as hard as you can
and slide forward."
A look of panic crossed his face. "What if I fall?"
"I'll catch you." Webster said firmly. Seeing his look of
doubt, Webster smiled. "Don't worry, I'm strong enough to catch
you. Besides all you have to do is make it from here to the
wheelchair."
Tracy nodded and started to slide off the bed. He slid and slid
until his toes touched the ground. When the soles of his feet
were flat, he looked up at Nurse Webster. She was a good five
inches taller than he was.
"My God, you're tall." The comment escaped his lips before he
could think.
He blushed, knowing that most women who are over six feet tall
were usually sensitive about their height.
Webster surprised him by laughing lightly. "Thank you, but I
don't think that five nine is all that tall, not in today's
society at least."
Being suddenly thrust into a blue-eyed blonde woman's body
hadn't diminished Tracy's mental capacity in the least. "Five
nine?" His stomach did another flip-flop, as he whispered.
"Then I must be....?"
"About five foot four or there abouts." Came the calm reply.
Webster caught Tracy before he fell to the floor. She picked
him up and carefully laid him back on his bed.
She decided to allow Tracy to remain as he was for the time
being and allow him to come out of his faint naturally.
A few minutes later, Tracy regained consciousness. His sharp
mind quickly provided him with the answers why he found himself
on the bed again.
"You okay?" Webster asked.
Tracy nodded. "I think so. I'm sorry, its just having been six
foot tall since I was fifteen..."
"I understand."
"Webster, Jesus, I can't keep calling you 'Webster' all the
time. What is your first name?"
"I'll tell you on one condition, you don't laugh." Webster
looked serious.
Tracy nodded, crossed one rather ample breast and held his palm
up.
"Promise."
"It's Danielle. Danielle Webster." She had said her name with
narrowed eyes, obviously having been teased about it when she
was younger. Tracy stuck her tiny hand in Danielle's and
smiled.
"Glad to meet you. Would you care to have dinner with me
tonight?" Tracy joked.
"Hospital food? Ugh. No thanks. But I will take you out to the
best restaurant in town as so as they release you."
"It's a deal." They shook hands again and giggled.
A few minutes later, Tracy was feeling ready to stand again.
Nurse
Webster, Danielle, helped her petite patient to stand and walk
the short distance to the wheelchair.
Danielle help Tracy put a hospital robe on and started pushing
the wheelchair out the door into the hallway.
"Where are we going?"
"To the shower room, where your going to get the best shower a
girl could ever hope for."
Danielle pushed the chair a few feet down the corridor then
suddenly stopped. Tracy looked back at her wondering why they
had stopped for no apparent reason. He was surprised to find
that she had disappeared. Growing close to panic, he was
relieved when she came out of his room carrying the paper bag.
"Forgot your clothing." She said simply.
-0-0-0-
"Well do you want to try to stand under the shower, or have me
give you a shower in the chair. Either way, you're going to get
a good scrub down."
"I'll stand." Tracy said.
"Good girl."
Tracy winced at the feminine pronoun. He wondered if he would
ever get use to be called a "she" or a "her".
Tracy watched as Danielle carefully adjusted the water in the
shower. He waited in the wheelchair until she had returned
before he tried to stand up.
Carefully supporting his body with the arms of the chair Tracy
stood. He wavered for a few seconds then steadied.
"Very good." Danielle said as she undid the ties to the
hospital gown.
Tracy closed his eyes and held his head up as the gown slipped
from his body.
He could sense Danielle standing in front of him.
"Tracy? Would you like to see what you look like?"
Eyes still closed, Tracy took a deep breath and nodded. He
could feel himself being maneuvered slightly to the side by the
taller woman.
"Okay, you can open your eyes now." Danielle said softly. Tracy
opened his eyes and gasped.
His first impression was that the woman he saw in the mirror
was so short!
The next and most lasting impression was that she was
beautiful. Her figure was in perfect proportion, hips not too
wide, breasts just large enough and firm enough to give the
undeniable signal that this was a woman. Although there could
never be any doubt.
A woman who would be just as happy with babies sucking on those
firm perfect breasts as she would have been with a man doing
it.
Tracy turned to one side. Even in profile, his new body was
perfect. He looked like an exquisitely crafted doll.
"My God." Tracy said in awe. "I'm beautiful."
Danielle Webster, Registered Nurse, turned to look at her
attractive charge and nodded.