A gathering of storefronts stood prominently within the heart of Murinova, representing the most frequent destinations for residents seeking out day-to-day utilities. While their selection was lacking next to the establishments found in larger towns, such as the neighboring Zweibent, their proximity represented a much-appreciated convenience for most Murinova residents. The shops were not particularly large or profitable because of the town’s small population, but they managed to remain successful despite thin profit margins. This was the case for Dale’s Food Market. 

Normally it always had at least one or two people muddling about, picking up something for a day’s meal, or doing their shopping outside of the ‘rush hours.’ Yet despite having its doors wide open, it was completely vacant aside from a single person, standing alone in this moderately sized grocery

They were a scrawny young man with scraggly black hair, bright blue eyes, and pale skin that contained a scattering of blemishes, wearing a dull green apron with a name tag reading ‘Tom’. Tom let out a sigh as he dejectedly stood at his cash register, tapping the conveyor belt with one hand while resting his head on the other. He looked dejectedly around the store before looking down at his wristwatch again, seeing that it was already 20 minutes past their usual opening time of 10:00.

“Where the hell is everyone?” He murmured to himself as his voice echoed throughout the empty mart.

“If you’re going to call me to come in and open up the store, you should at least be here on time… or let me know that you’re going to be late. …Screw it, I guess I’ll do the rounds… again. Ugh! Welp, I’m going to pop on some tunes. Not like anybody’s here to stop me.”

Tom left his register after grabbing his pocket radio from a shelf underneath his workstation. He clipped the handheld device to his jeans, flipped the power switch, and patiently awaited the good vibes that his go-to rock station always offered… only to be met with static. Naturally, his hand went to the tuning dial of the radio, but found all the usual frequencies replaced with a barrage of vicious white noise. He continued to fiddle with it, switching to FM channels in hopes that this thing was not completely broken, and soon landed on something intelligible. The voice of a woman who calmly repeated a message. Tom caught it part way through, but the speaker repeated herself, allowing him to piece the full message together.

“—dents of Murinova has been declared. This is for your own safety. All residents of Murinova must remain in their homes until further notice. No entry is allowed in or out of Murinova until this situation is resolved. I repeat, a mandatory quarantine for all residents of Murinova has been declared.”

“Is somebody just messing with me? Guys, if you’re pulling a prank on me, it’s not funny. It’s really roundabout… and incredibly stupid! …What am I saying? nobody here’s smart enough to pull off something like this… and nobody’s here but me. They must have heard this broadcast and all be… at home. Oh god… bless it.”

Following that decree, Tom turned off their radio and began closing up the shop he opened up just shy of an hour ago. He slung his apron on the rack in the employee room, locked the front door, and made his way out the back. He was met with the same cloud-caked sky and temperate weather that he saw this morning and began the three kilometer walk back home. As he did so, going through what could generously be described as the shopping district of Murinova, he observed that every other store was still closed from the following evening. Something he somehow hadn’t noticed when he walked to the grocery store this morning.

Tom let out a sigh as this revelation settled. He had a habit of letting his mind wander if he lacked a task to focus on, and it was hard to simply focus on walking. So his trips to and from work were often filled with daydreams. However, word about a quarantine did make him a hint more observant than normal, noticing the eerie undercurrent inherent to an isolated town without a hint of human life. It actually made him a bit paranoid. If there were a killer on the loose, nobody would hear his screams for help. 

He attempted to reassure himself by focusing on his physique. Being a fairly tall young man with more than a modicum of muscle, he was not the type who was typically sought out by murder-hungry maniacs. Though, he still wished he had given his parents a call to come pick him up. He thought about trekking four blocks back to the store, but he shook his head at his paranoia and continued walking onwards, picking up the pace slightly as he shifted into a light jog. A jog he continued for a few minutes until he was called to a stop upon hearing a car honk emanate behind him. 

Turning on his heel, Tom looked back to see a white van with the town name and logo painted on the side. He stood still as the vehicle approached at a steady pace, while the driver shouted at him in a terse tone. 

“The hell are you doing out here? We’ve got a quarantine in effect!”

“Oh, sorry about that sir. I didn’t hear the broadcast until I was already at work,” Tom shouted back at the van as it slowed to a stop.

“Well don’t just go walking around like a doe-faced jay! Get your ass in the van! Back’s open. Where you live anyways?”

“187 Maple Drive. Thanks for the ride by the way,” Tom said as he threw open the back doors of the van.

Once opened, Tom was greeted with benches on both sides of the vehicle. On the benches, there were three people, faces he had seen before, but their names escaped him. Two were large men, craning their heads downwards as they looked at Tom with blank expressions. The other one was a middle-aged blonde woman, duct tape over her mouth, and arms placed behind her back. 

This immediately triggered a red alert within Tom’s brain, and he shut the doors closed before running along his previously established route. After returning to the sidewalk, the driver thrust his door open, catching Tom off-guard, and leaving him vulnerable as the driver stepped out and threw his burly arms at Tom. The two other men soon came storming out the back, tackling Tom to the sidewalk and slapping a strip of duct tape over his mouth. The driver, observing Tom’s futile struggle, opted to kick him in the head with his pair of well-worn work boots, causing Tom to emit a muffled groan of pain.

With three large figures looming over him, Tom admitted defeat and stopped his squirmy struggles. He allowed the men to escort him to the back of the van, where he had his arms bound with rope and sat across from the dejected-looking woman who, presumably, was apprehended just like him. Tom wanted to ask his abductors a litany of questions but could not say anything intelligible on account of the rubbery fabric that covered his mouth. 

He simply sat there, no idea where he was heading, waiting until the driver called out to someone else, thus leading to the snatching of a frail-looking boy, no older than 13. After the driver spoke to the boy, urging him to get in the can, the two men shoved him into the back and began to bind his body. Tom considered escaping as the two apprehended this child, but immediately had doubts about that plan. Instead, he made like a statue. He remained where he was, stayed silent, and reassured himself that he was going to be okay once this whole thing was over.

His confidence in this mindset came from how these three abductors were Murinova locals. Familiar-looking working-class people who were behaving in a very stringent manner, not conversing with themselves, and maintaining stoic, almost militaristic, expressions. Tom figured that if they were crazed cannibals or some such thing, they would be more visibly unhinged. Before he could examine his fellow captives and gauge their thoughts on the matter by examining their expressions in detail, the van parked to a stop, and the driver let out a curt “we’re here.”

Given how brief the ride was, Tom could only assume they were somewhere still in town and emerged from the vehicle to see the exterior of the Murinova Community Center. He was grabbed by one of the three large men and brought into the building proper, along with the two other captives. Their escorts kept their lips sealed, and systematically made their way through the building, traveling up a stairwell and into an inconspicuous conference room, at least according to the plaque placed next to the door. 

Only Tom and the young boy were brought into the room, while the woman was sent further down the expansive halls of this building. Inside, Tom was greeted with approximately two dozen men of all ages, split evenly into both sides of the room. Their mouths sealed with tape, their hands bound to brass bars that adorned the sides of the wall, and their bodies completely naked. Some of these men shared looks of horror in their eyes, others possessed blank expressions… and a few were sporting erections while rocking their heads erratically. Besides the doors, there stood two guards, who looked at this scene with the blankest of expressions.

Tom and the young boy were quickly brought to the back of the room, where their bindings were undone and their two escorts ordered them to strip. Both Tom and the child were reluctant to do so, but after one of these men brandished a handgun, they quickly complied, tearing off their clothes within seconds. Once naked, they had their hands bound to the railings. With their mouths still covered, they could do little but share a look of concern as they both underwent their own mental theories as to what the hell was going on. However, nothing they could imagine was close to the twisted reality they were thrust into.

After the departure of the two escorts and half an hour of standing and waiting, the door to this repurposed conference room swung open once more, revealing a young black woman in a cream-colored sundress. An individual known as Vice. But to all the men confined in this room, ‘she’ was a mere stranger, one whose presence elicited a mixture of confusion, intrigue, and embarrassment from these men. Though for Tom, it was mostly the latter. Vice chipperly oohed and aahed as they examined the males confined in this room, examining their faces, forms, and, most especially, their penises. Which they poked and prodded casually, as if they were inspecting produce. 

“And this is every loose man you boys wrangled up?” Vice said in a sing-song intonation to the two guards that remained in this room.

“Yes divine one,” the two chanted in response.

“Well, I have to say that I’m not displeased with this selection. Here I was worried that I would need to make my own playmate, but now I have a room full of choices. Oh joy, oh rapture, oh which man shall be my partner this fine morning.”

Vice then began darting back and forth between a few men, either remarking that they weren’t in the mood, or would save them for later. They bounced across the room for a short while before their little inspection landed on Tom and the frail boy by his side.

“Hm… I really do want to fuck a child again, but do I want to lose my normal female virginity to one? Nah, I’ll save you for this afternoon, my little nugget. Instead, I’ll keep things simple, with Mister Johnson over here!”

As Vice said this, they brought a hand to Tom’s penis, which had grown erect shortly after Vice walked into the room, reaching its full length of 9 inches. Technically, he was only 8.8 inches, but it was close enough. Tom twisted his face as he became the recipient of Vice’s attention, his embarrassment and discomfort rising to highs he never thought possible. Thankfully, he was not given much time to stew in this humiliation, as Vice proceeded to bend reality to their liking, undoing Tom’s bindings with the snap of a finger. Once his hands were free, Vice ripped the duct tape off his face in one fell swoop, causing Tom to let out a sharp and piercing shout as stray hairs were torn from his upper and lower lips. Vice then grabbed the young man by the arm, locking it with their own, before tilting their head upwards in order to reach his ear.

“Sorry about being a bit rough, mon chéri. But if you follow me, I will provide you with the most pleasurable experience of your life. Oh, what am I saying? You’ll follow me no matter what.”

Following those words, Vice guided Tom out of the room, letting the door slam behind them as the two traversed the expansive hallway, eventually stopping at the office of the mayor of this meek little settlement. Opening the door revealed a vacant office, with a large wooden desk placed at one end, file cabinets strewn along the other, and a comparatively small wooden desk placed near the entrance, likely belonging to a secretary or aid. Vice led the way to the back of the office, momentarily letting go of Tom to grab an ornate black leather chair, which they brought into the middle of the room. 

Vice sat themself on the chair, letting out a pleasant sigh as they leaned back in it, nearly causing the chair to fall backwards. They slammed the chair to the ground before directing their attention to Tom once more. He stared at Vice, perplexed by this very situation and struggling to hide his semi-erect genitals with his hand. Vice smirked as they looked at the palpable embarrassment on Tom’s face, and let out a small laugh to ease the tension wafting through this stuffy office.

“If you want to get out of here alive, I strongly recommend you do as I say. Understood?”

“Y-Yes, ma’am.”

“Heh. Ma’am. It has a nice ring to it, but I’d say that I am more of a Miss, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, yes… Miss. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m… just nervous as you can see.”

“Well, don’t be. I’m not going to hurt you. I simply brought you here to be my sexual partner for the… morning, I suppose.”

“I… what?”

Vice did not immediately offer a response. Instead, they lifted their arms up, yanked off their dress, and flung away their underwear.

“I want to have sex with you, you dolt.”

Tom’s face was as red as a beet. This was the first time he had seen a naked female body in the flesh, and they said they wanted to take his virginity. It was all so bizarre, so distant from what he knew, that he knew not if this was a dream, a nightmare, reality, or some twisted hybrid of the three. He was so wrapped with uncertainty that he could not think of a response, and simply murmured relentlessly before Vice brought a finger to his forehead. 

“If you’re too scared to stick it in, you can use your tongue. You’ll get a great look and feel for what a real pussy is like if you go that direction. And if the taste has you worried, don’t. I just cleaned it, and I’m rather sweet down there, I’ll have you know.  So chop chop. Pick one, and don’t just stand there gawking like a dullard. I have a schedule to abide by, and would rather not force myself upon you.”

It took a moment for Tom to process Vice’s comments, filtering them into something he could understand and act upon. While his nature made him inclined to pursue cowardice and flee this awkward situation, he steadily made his way towards Vice, getting a closer look at the first naked ‘woman’ he had ever seen outside of perverted magazines. He squatted down, adopting a fetal position to get a better look at Vice’s vulva, gazing upon its structure and expressing surprise over its contours. It lacked the hair that typically adorned photographs he had come across, and while it was the same color beyond the folds of skin, it was surrounded by a vastly different shade than the white girl pussy he was used to seeing.

He briefly glanced up at Vice, getting an excellent look at the underside of their breasts and their disapproving face. After their eyes locked for a fraction of a second, Tom returned to the genitalia before him, and stuck his tongue out gingerly, where he began exploring this foreign body part orally. Tom was greeted with a soft texture that he had come to associate with women, but it was different. Something more tender and supple. Something that should only be touched lightly and delicately. And something with a distinct flavor to it. A palpable sweetness struck Tom’s taste buds, bearing subtle traces of honey and vanilla, two flavors he would have never associated with a person’s privates. But upon letting them savor on his tongue, Tom found himself inclined to go in for more. 

Tom narrowed the distance between him and Vice, and shut his eyes as he continued. His actions were prolonged, held some force behind them, but were ultimately gentle, and even managed to elicit a few moans from Vice. These sounds only further hardened Tom’s persistent erection, and with male hormones rushing through his body, his actions steadily became more aggressive.

But right as Tom began entering this groove, as his dick grew harder and Vice’s moans began to echo throughout the room, his focus was shattered as two cold fleshy objects plopped themselves into the concha of his ears. Looking up, he saw Vice looming over him, wearing a smile on her face. Looking to his sides, Tom saw that Vice’s legs were pulled upwards, and determined the object he felt inside his outer ears were none other than Vice’s toes. 

Before Tom could so much as formulate a proper question, Vice moved their toes back, urging Tom to lay down. Not wanting to displease them, Tom complied and placed his back against the carpeted floor. He looked up at Vice as they towered over his person, and before Tom could muster the courage to say a single word, Vice removed their toes from Tom’s ears and brought their feet to Tom’s burgeoning erection.

Tom flinched and shut his eyes as Vice’s feet neared his penis, fearful that his genitals were going to be assaulted. Instead, he found that he was being… caressed. Vice was rubbing their musculature over Tom’s stick, cupping it with their arch, squeezing it with their bunions, while brushing their toes along the head. 

It was a sexual act that had never once crossed Tom’s mind, and while he found it profusely odd, it still filled his body with pleasure. Tom thought it to be deviant, to be wrong or shameful, to be a bastardization of what he, a young virgin male, understood sex to be. …But that only made it all the hotter. With his body and mind both stimulated, it barely took a minute before Tom reached his climax. Semen squirted and sputtered out of his skyward penis and dripped down his shaft, before landing on Vice’s wiggling toes.

“Now that you’re all warmed up and have, in a loose sense, been with a woman, are you ready for the real deal?”

“I— I’d like to be with you… Miss. You… m-made me feel wonderful, and… I’d like to… to be with you fully and… utterly.”

“Oh, trust me sunny bunny, you don’t. You really don’t want to be with me. But I’ll let you stick it in, and maybe we can go three rounds if I like the cut of your cock.”

Tom looked down at his penis. It was still dripping with semen and still rock hard. He turned to Vice, who pulled their legs back and pushed their crotch forward to the edge of their chair, presenting themself without even a trace of subtlety or ambiguity about what they wanted. However, being something of the awkward type, Tom looked at his cum-covered penis curiously, and then back at Vice, hoping for some direction on whether or not a cleaning was in order.

“Oh for the love of— just ram it in!”

“But… you might get pregnant, so—”

“No. I won’t. I definitely won’t.”

Not wanting to damage the mood further, Tom moved in closer to Vice, their erection bobbing up and down before being thrust forward into a tight hole. Tom shut his eyes as the vaginal walls immersed his member, placing pressure on it from all sides. Worry filled him as the pressure intensified, but one look at Vice’s dismissive expression urged him to begin moving his hips to and fro, while Vice did the same. Rocking around in the seat to better acclimate Tom and further their own pleasure.

Recollections about the outer contours of Vice’s ultimately offered Tom little guidance, but their comfort was improved dramatically from that experience, allowing him to ignore or repress his worries and fears and focus on the stimulation their actions provided. The subdued yet constant force of Vice’s body caused Tom’s head to become hazy as a rush of chemicals assaulted his mind.

For Tom, it was a moment of euphoria. For Vice, it was something of a curiosity. This entire arrangement was leading up to this moment. An opportunity to experience the receiving end of vaginal penetration, and to test the common assertions that the female sexual experience was superior to that of a male. They had previously toyed with this concept in the form of an oral adventure with Juniper, but this was the real deal for them. The real test to determine whether the person who derives the most satisfaction was, as they crassly defined it in their mind, the fucker, or the fuckee. 

Acting as the fuckee, Vice felt like they were being catered to. Almost as if their body was being massaged internally, and all they had to do was go with the flow while their partner— their servant, did the heavy lifting. However, it was also a situation where they were not calling the shots. They had issued the instructions, and their partner diligently obeyed, but to Vice… sex was, at least in some way, a physical manifestation of power. A way to consummate one’s physical dominance over another.

This was always the appeal to Vice. Their sexual orientation was largely dictated by power. By physically exploiting those beneath them. While their heinous actions towards children were partially driven by an adoration of malice, their actions were also driven by a lust for power and the sensation it brought. By raping, murdering, and eating their victims, Vice proved themself to be their better. Proved themself to be higher up on the metaphorical food chain. And now, they were beyond children. Beyond any and all humans. They were a god. A god who most certainly found physical delight in the act of being penetrated by a man… but desired to dominate, to indulge in the wicked behavior they had so poetically named themself after. As such, partway through this second round of intercourse, they sought to change up the dynamic.

Vice stood up from their chair as Tom continued to thrust inside them. He momentarily paused as Vice flipped him around, plopping him down in the leather seat. Vice loomed over Tom once again, and they took over the thrusting duties themself. With Tom’s dick still inserted, Vice began to gyrate their hips to and fro in a systematic and pleasurable manner. Tom, while startled, did not object to his new placement, with his mind still fogged by an erotic euphoria. 

After approximately four cumulative minutes of mingling genitals, Tom experienced his second orgasm, busting inside of Vice’s vagina. A grand wave of bliss hit Tom’s mind as his orgasm concluded, and clarity steadily returned to him. This clarity reminded him that he should socially engage with the lovely, and sweaty, feminine individual before them. Yet, as Tom muttered words of gratitude, he noticed that something was amiss with his penis. He attempted to tug and pull it out of Vice, but it remained inside them, as if it were caught on something. 

A sense of dread began circling in Tom’s mind as he tried to explain the phenomena before him, and his attention was soon diverted to Vice, who looked at the young man with a smile, offering no words, but a knowing look. Before Tom could respond with questions, a burning sensation began to fill his penis and spread throughout his entire crotch. It felt as if his dick was being eaten inside out by fire ants that ravaged every scrap of flesh they could. 

His nerves burst with displeasure, his face contorted in agony, his throat was rendered hoarse from screaming, and his eyes became flushed with tears. The greatest pleasure in his life was followed with the greatest pain, and the only relief was that it ended within a scant 30 seconds. When the pain immediately vanished and was replaced an aggressive numbness. 

As this flip of the senses happened, Tom found himself out of the chair he had been thrust into and on the carpeted floor, sitting in a pool of sweat and semen. He groaned as he lifted himself upwards and directed his attention to Vice. But as he lifted his head, he was greeted by a sizable brown cock with accompanying balls jutting out of Vice’s crotch. The erect member was only inches away from Tom’s face and its presence filled his mind with a cavalcade of confusion. He recoiled, crawling backwards on the sex-stained carpet, stopping only upon slamming his head against the chair that rested behind him. 

With the utterance of a swear, Tom rubbed the back of his head, and inadvertently directed his gaze to his own crotch. There, he did not see a trace of the penis he so vigorously exercised. In its place was a slit that adorned an otherwise smooth and flat groin. Sending a hand to investigate immediately confirmed that it was indeed what it looked like.

“D-Did you steal my p-penis!?” Tom shouted, his voice cracking as the words escaped his mouth.

“How observant. Yes, I did switch our genitals. You did great for your first time, and vaginal intercourse is enjoyable, but it’s not quite my style. As such, I decided to endow myself with a penis once more. And while I was at it, I figured I may as well give it a test drive. So, if you don’t mind, Mister… oh, how rude of me. It appears that I forgot to ask your name.”

“I—It’s Tom Grain,” he said before letting out a hearty cough.

“Tom? How plain. I feel as if I should change that to better fit your new form—”

“Wait, what? What did you do to me?”

“Hush. I enjoyed our time together, but I am not going to tolerate any resistance of this sort. You are to do as I say. Lest I learn to detest your existence and have you killed prematurely. You will stay here, you will get fucked, and if you behave yourself then maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you live and enjoy the rest of your life.”

“…Will you give me my penis back?” Tom asked as quietly as he could while still being audible.

“No. When I’m through with you, you will lack so much as a shred of your masculinity, let alone your former identity.”

Tom inhaled, preparing to object to Vice’s terms, but he was grabbed and thrown into the sweaty leather chair once more, where he was immediately penetrated by Vice’s penis. The initial thrust took Tom’s breath away, causing his body to freeze from the sudden impact. As the thrusting continued, Tom’s breathing became fractured, manic, and for his body was set ablaze with both an unfamiliar form of pleasure and a pain that resonated across his entire being. 

This mingling of sensations caused Tom to disassociate from the unreal reality he had been forced into. Time transformed into something ethereal and vague. Sights and sounds melted into an abstract backdrop. All he could fixate on was the feeling of fire ants assaulting his innards and causing his body to break out in splotches of pain. A pain that would’ve been unbearable if not for the sensation that came as their newfound sexual organ was stimulated, titillated, and filled.

Tom was not really sure why this action pleased him so dearly, as he was having his very body invaded by another person. …But their invader did so with a degree of expertise, marrying forceful motions with more gentle ones. Tom found himself unconsciously shaking along with Vice, and their once vague groans began morphing into words, pleas for Vice to continue their actions. 

“Yes, please… don’t stop.”

“I know this is wrong, but… thank you, Vice.”

“Is this… really what it’s like for a woman?”

Tom winced with disgust as he noticed the drivel that escaped his lips, but also with horror as he heard his own voice. The pitch, the intonation, it was all wrong, and only became wronger with each utterance. His words soon became fragmented and, almost seamlessly, reworked themselves into something else. He was speaking high-pitched gibberish. Words so different he couldn’t even recognize them as a language. As he became aware of this, the overwhelming pain ringing through his body had receded, leaving an intense numbness in its place. And it was as this overbearing sense of pins and needles assaulting his body that Tom could tell that something was wrong.

Tom’s impression of his own body was reduced to a vague outline, and from that alone, it was apparent that various things were in the wrong places. Hair spread across his head obscuring his vision with a straight black curtain that bore a pleasant texture. The mass of their torso had been rearranged, with two protrusions affixing themself to his chest. His already slim waistline was trimmed significantly. His rear was widened and fattened. And by tossing his tongue about, he immediately noticed differences in his teeth, which were devoid of the imperfections and holes he had grown accustomed to.

As he attempted to gather further details about their form, Tom was greeted with a pulsating sensation from his lower regions. Something similar to an orgasm, yet it lacked the immediate cannon-like explosion of personal ecstasy. It was a constant high that lingered far longer, and one that lacked the same decline he had grown accustomed to after years of beating his meat in secrecy. However, that did not mark the end of this sexually charged encounter, as Vice continued to enjoy their new penis, and carried on. Forcing Tom through an additional two orgasms, before Vice experienced their own. 

Rather than ejaculating inside of Tom, Vice opted to instead release their load onto him. Tom shouted in displeasure as hot jizz assaulted his face, and as he shouted, he realized that his voice was not his own. Not even close. He wiped the salty protein-rich slime off his face as best they could in a single hand motion, and looked down at their person, groaning as their fears were confirmed. They had the body of a woman with supple breasts, a trim waistline, a soaking red vulva, a pair of smooth legs, and slim arms devoid of the slight muscle he had accumulated from his time at the grocery store.

The hair that drifted in his face only went to confirm that, physically speaking, they were now a woman, but as they looked down at their pale skin they could not help but feel as if something was off about it. Before they could ask a question concerning their revised body, Vice lobbed a small handheld mirror onto Tom’s stomach. He grabbed it, brought it up to his face, and gasped.

In the mirror, he saw an Asian woman looking back at them. A woman who looked nothing like Tom. She was a complete and utter stranger who matched any movement Tom made, facial or otherwise. After taking a moment to understand their predicament, Tom directed his attention to Vice, who simply looked at the confused man turned woman before them, bearing a toothy grin. 

Tom began to berate Vice for what they did, but as he tried to formulate the desired words, he was met with something far different. A language that Tom never knew before, and whose words were as clear and sensible to him as English was just minutes ago.

“Anata wa watashi ni nani o shimashita? …Eh?”

Observing the anguish adorning Tom’s reshaped face, Vice snickered before bending down to look at the chair-bound Tom at eye-level. Vice’s words were not spoken in English, but made sense in Tom’s mind… or as much sense as he could decipher given this surreal situation.

“I rid you of any and all of your masculinity, turning you into a woman. However, transforming you into a female version of yourself would have been woefully blasé. So, I opted to change you into an entirely different person physically and, to a degree, mentally. Your native tongue has been changed from English to Japanese, and while you retain knowledge of some basic English words, that is far from being. Tom Grain is no more, but you, Tomoko Goto, will live on, while all your friends and neighbors shall perish tonight at sunset. Think of it as a thank you present for providing me with a semi-enjoyable sexual encounter.”

Vice’s words weighed heavily in Tom’s mind. He lost everything he had known. From his name to his body, to his very life. Those things were stolen from him, and he was now a person of a different race, sex, and tongue. Despair flooded his thoughts, leading him to hyperventilate while uttering apologetic words. Tom threw himself off the chair and down to the floor, where he bowed down to Vice, pleading for them to undo their actions, to return his identity. In response, Vice laughed.

“Oh my, aren’t you just adorable? Can I… no. I simply cannot derive pleasure from harming someone as vulnerable as you any further. As such, Tomoko-chan, you are free to go as you please. But I advise leaving Murinova as soon as possible. Head to the woods in search of salvation, and do not look back as you make your way to a ‘brave new world.’ Or else, you shall die in vain.”

Tom pondered offering a response to Vice’s words, but concern over saying the wrong thing stewed in their mind. A fear that saying something rude here would further ruin their life or end their continued existence. As such, he simply got up, moving awkwardly as he tried to grow accustomed to his new proportions, including his dramatically reduced height, having lost a good 30 centimeters in the transformation. With an arm over his chest to maintain modesty, Tom walked to the door to this defiled office and briefly looked back at Vice. Their eyes locked, and as Vice registered the despair wallowing within Tom’s optics, they snapped their fingers with both hands.

Suddenly the two naked female bodies became adorned in pastel sundresses. Vice wore the same thing they previously did, with their newfound penis and testicles creating a notable bulge underneath the cream-colored dress. They looked down, groaned at how unsightly it looked, and with a small twitch of their face, the penis vanished. 

Tom then looked down at himself to see his new foreign— in more ways than one— body adorned in a violet floral dress. With matching white flats, and a dark leather purse with a strap that sat between his modestly-sized breasts. 

Tom stared at his person in disbelief, struggling to accept that this stranger’s form was his own. Even as he gently placed a hand along his breasts, feeling the softness of the fabric, light cushion of the bra, and the tenderness of the flesh beneath.

“Sore ga watashi,” Tom said as he placed a hand over his smooth face, drifting his fingers into his loose shoulder-length hair.

Tears billowed in his eyes as he repeated that phrase. In an attempt to fight against the inclinations of his own mind and mouth. In an attempt to reclaim a familiar means of expressing themself. But all he could speak was a tongue that they had never truly learned. 

He shoved open the door and ran down the halls, blindly making his way out of the building and passing by a number of guards, none of whom paid him any bother. He ran out of the building, crying and convulsing, moving as quickly as his new body, and footwear, would allow him to. 

This mad dash eventually resulted in fatigue overcoming his person. He nearly collapsed on the sidewalk before finally skidding to a stop. He took a moment to look back at the community center, reduced to a mere speck on the horizon. He then looked forward and saw that the woods that walled this insignificant little town were only a short walk away. After taking a few minutes to dry his tears and let his breathing return to normal, Tom continued trekking forward. 

As he walked, feeling his breasts bounce and hips shake with every passing step, he looked around the town he was departing. It was isolated and ominous when he left the grocery, but now, the town felt truly desolate. There was no sight of a living person, no murmur of a car engine, and not even a sight of a stray bird or squirrel mucking about. The world was truly empty, and the sky was still obscured by a layer of unbroken clouds.

Before too long, these sights were obscured by the foliage of the forest and the concrete beneath his feet was replaced by dirt, which made him despise the footwear Vice gave him. For the thin soles of his glorified slippers clashed with the loose pebbles, twigs, and weeds that littered this unkempt forest. He originally intended to take things slow once met with this discovery, but his pace increased once he heard a noise echo throughout these woods. The sound of chanting from a group of children. The tongue they spoke in, English, was largely unknown to Tom, but he parsed the meaning of one word uttered by these youthful voices. The word “kill”. 

After all of the bizarre things that had happened this past day, Tom took these children’s words seriously. With a fear of death looming over his person, he jogged throughout the woods. He prayed that Vice’s words were not part of an elongated sick game, and that despite robbing Tom of more than he ever thought he could possibly lose, they could be trusted. He prayed that, by going through this forest, he could find some form of salvation. 

As the fauna grew thick, Tom found himself dashing through a dense bush, filled with brambles and branches Tom was almost certain would devastate his knee-length dress. He shut his eyes as he felt his way through the thick greenery, only to feel the ground under him dip suddenly. He lost his balance and tumbled through the shrubbery, rolling across a small dirt hill before coming to a stop. 

With adrenaline still pumping throughout his person, Tom promptly stood up and readjusted himself, only to freeze as he opened his eyes. The sky above was no longer blocked by tall trees nor clouds, and instead gave way to a night’s sky, with stars shining brilliantly above, accompanied by a faint sliver of moonlight. Paranoia would have been filling his head under normal circumstances, but this sight brought him… relief. For it was a sign that he truly escaped from the nightmare that was these past three hours.

As calm washed over his person, Tom noticed that he was standing beside a road. And with no real idea where he was supposed to go, or where he necessarily was, Tom decided to follow this road, hoping it would take him to civilization of some sort. After relishing in the cool evening breeze for a moment, Tom decided to finally investigate the purse that he had been given, and blindly ignored. 

Lifting the straps and unzipping it, he found some tissues, a small makeup kit, and a wallet that piqued Tom’s interest. Due to a lack of direct lighting, he struggled to make out much, but could tell that he had an ID card of sorts, some paper money that felt different than the dollars he was accustomed to, and a few other cards with Japanese characters on them.

Just as he began to put his only belongings away, Tom noticed a light illuminating from behind him, and heard a human voice coming from the same direction.

“Oi!!!”

Turning his head, Tom was met with a car that was curiously driving on the left side of the road, slowly moving toward him. Tom remained still as this car drew near, and as it did, he noticed a large flasher adorning the top of the vehicle, along with the word ‘police’ embedded on the side of the vehicle, in both Japanese and English. As the vehicle came to a halt, the right-side door opened up to reveal a middle-aged man, dressed in what Tom recognized as a police officer’s uniform. He wore a concerned look on his face and began to speak to Tom slowly.

He asked Tom why he was out here so late, remarking how it was 02:30, and this was no place for a ‘young woman’ such as him, before asking for their name and address. Tom was slow to answer, digesting the fact that they had seemingly traveled halfway around the world instantaneously, and the fact that they were now in an unfamiliar nation with rules and customs they knew next to nothing about. 

Due to his silence, the officer asked for Tom’s name and address once more, prompting him to actually respond. As the question was asked, Tom remembered the name Vice gave him. Tomoko Goto. This was the answer to one question, but not the other. Tom needed an excuse to explain their abrasive ignorance, and soon settled on a cliche concept that they hoped would work: Feigning amnesia.

“Watashi wa Goto Tomoko desu… Watashi wo motte imasu kenbōshō. Cho—Chotto tasukete kudasai.”

A look of shock and sorrow hit the officer’s face as he took in Tom’s words. The officer immediately offered him a ride, saying that he would take ‘her’ to the nearest hospital. Tom simply thanked the officer, and nestled their way into the back seat, letting out a sigh as they resumed fiddling through their purse, hoping that they could find something or other to make the situation more bearable. As their pilfering continued, the officer made their way to a street basked in artificial light, allowing Tom to properly investigate their belongings. He found over a dozen 10,000 yen bills, about 20,000 yen in smaller bills and coins, an ATM card, a Japanese ID, and a laminated card that read the following, written in Japanese:

“To my dearest Tomoko. I hope that you find joy and fulfillment in your new life, and I look forward to monitoring your progress from afar, seeing you blossom from a lackadaisical American man to a fulfilled and fully-fledged Japanese woman. I have given you plenty to get started, but if you feel you need something more, or simply wish to see me once again, do not hesitate to call me. Sincerely, Vice.”

The other side of the card simply said the word “Vice” in English and Japanese, while providing an American phone number. Tom clenched this card, preparing to shred it there and then, but stopped as he saw his slender fingers latch onto this paper, before stuffing it back into his purse. He looked out the police car window, seeing foreign signs and his own reflection in the glass, reminding him of his new life, his new existence, and the new country that, at least for the time being, he would call home. It was a mortifying and frustrating revelation, but rather than lash out in anger or sorrow, he instead offered a dejected and prolonged sigh of acceptance.

“Watashi wa… Goto Tomoko desu. Watashi wa… josei desu. Watashi wa… Nipponjin desu.”

Where her new life would take her was unknown. But after having her old life taken from her so abruptly and cruelly, Tomoko made a silent promise to herself to live this life to the fullest and pursue the greatest form of happiness she possibly could.