Chapter 17: Captured

“How do you do it?”

The man in the grey suit, Fullerman, leaned in close. His breath smelled of stale coffee and mints. I stared right back at him, summoning every ounce of Alexa’s bravado even though my heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I spat, my voice dripping with feigned indignation. “I caught this thing like everyone else! I woke up with tits and a great ass. I’m a victim here!”

It was a good lie. But Fullerman didn’t blink. His eyes were cold, dead things that had seen too much.

“A victim who happens to be at the epicenter of every outbreak,” he said dryly. “A victim who recruits others. A victim who has been transforming since before the outbreak.” He stood up, smoothing his suit jacket. “Fine. We can find out the hard way.”

He nodded to the guard behind me. I felt the prick of a needle in my neck again. “Wait, you can’t…”

Darkness swallowed me whole.

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I woke up to the smell of antiseptic and the hum of machinery. I tried to move, but my limbs were heavy, unresponsive. I looked down. I was strapped to a metal table in a room that looked like a cross between a surgery theater and an interrogation cell. I was completely immobilized.

Doctors in surgical masks and blue scrubs bustled around me, checking monitors. One wall was a giant mirror. One-way glass.

“Okay,” Fullerman’s voice crackled over an intercom system. “Proceed with the examination. Everyone apart from Doctor Lehman, leave the room.”

The other staff filed out, leaving a single man. He was younger than the others, his eyes kind above his mask. I started to scream, but the doctor just taped my mouth shut to muffle me.

Lehman approached the table. “I’m just going to check your vitals,” he murmured, his voice shaking slightly. “Try to relax.”

He reached for the hem of my dress. He slowly peeled the fabric up, exposing my panties, my stomach, my ribs.

“Vitals are elevated,” the intercom buzzed. “Continue, Doctor.”

Lehman pulled the dress higher, over the swell of my breasts. He hesitated. Then, with a clinical efficiency, he snipped the straps and pulled the fabric all the way off.

My breasts spilled out. Massive. Pale. Perfect. They defied the gravity of my supine position, standing proud and heavy, the pink nipples hardening in the cool air of the room.

Lehman froze.

“Doctor?” the intercom prompted. “Why have you stopped?”

Lehman didn’t answer. He just stared. His eyes, previously professional and detached, widened. His pupils dilated until his irises were swallowed by black. His breathing hitched, becoming shallow and rapid.

“She…” he whispered, his voice thick with a sudden, overwhelming emotion. “She… how could we do this to her?”

“Doctor Lehman?” Fullerman’s voice was sharp now.

Lehman turned slowly toward the mirror. He pulled his mask down, revealing a face flushed with a terrifying, manic adoration.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Lehman said, a tear tracking down his cheek. “But… I’m in love with her. I love her. She’s perfect. I can’t bear to see her like this!”

He turned back to me, his hands trembling as he gently, reverently pulled the camisole back down, covering my chest. “I’m so sorry, my goddess,” he whispered. “I’ll get you out of here.”

He began to fumble with the straps on my wrist, his movements frantic. “I’ll free you! I’ll do anything for you!”

“Security!” the intercom barked.

The door burst open. Three guards rushed in, tackling Lehman just as he got the first buckle loose. He screamed, thrashing against them. “Don’t touch her! She’s an angel! I love her! I’ll kill you all!”

They dragged him out, his screams of devotion echoing down the hallway.

Silence fell over the room.

“Well, well,” Fullerman’s voice came over the speaker, thoughtful and chillingly calm. “It looks like your breasts have… interesting properties. Instant infatuation upon visual contact? Very, very interesting.”

I struggled against the straps, muffled screams tearing at my throat. He knew. He knew about the power.

The gas hissed from the vents again. I tried to hold my breath, but it was useless. The black tide rose up and pulled me under.

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When I woke up this time, the scenery had changed. I was upright, tied to a heavy steel chair bolted to the floor.

I looked down at myself. The dress was gone. In its place was a thick, orange jumpsuit that covered me from my neck to my toes. It was baggy, shapeless, designed to hide every curve.

Fullerman walked in. He stopped a safe distance away, keeping his eyes strictly on my face.

“Apologies for the wardrobe change,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “But we needed to be careful not to expose ourselves to your… assets. What is it? An hour? Until the victim is back to normal? My god, poor Lehman is going to have nightmares about that for years.”

“Let me go, you monster!” I spat, the gag having been removed.

“Me? The monster?” He chuckled dryly. “Look at you. You’re a biological weapon wrapped in silk.”

“I’ll never help you,” I hissed.

“Oh, but you have **** in the matter,” he replied smoothly. He checked his watch. “You’ve been under for a while. You must be starving.”

My stomach betrayed me with a loud, angry growl. I hadn’t eaten since the bar.

“Now tell me,” he said, leaning forward. “How do you turn men into women? Is it a chemical? A pathogen?”

“Come here and I’ll show you,” I purred, trying to summon a shred of my influence.

“Nice try,” he smiled. “But we have a test subject for that. The sooner you help us, the sooner you can get something to eat.”

He turned and walked out.

A moment later, the door opened again. A man walked in. He was a slab of granite carved into the shape of a human. Buzz cut, scar running through his eyebrow, eyes like flint. He moved with the predatory grace of a jungle cat.

“This is Phillip,” the intercom announced. “He is our top operative. He has been trained to withstand **** that you couldn’t even imagine. He has withstood chemical interrogation, sleep deprivation, and psychological warfare. His mind is a fortress. Your parlor tricks won’t work on him. He is the perfect candidate to log exactly how your games work.”

I looked at Phillip. He looked at me with zero interest. He looked at me like I was a spreadsheet he had to audit.

I smiled. This guy had no idea what he was in for.

“Okay then,” I said, leaning back as much as the bonds allowed. “For a meal, yeah?”

“That is correct,” the intercom said.

I looked Phillip up and down. “Come here then, big boy. And drop your pants.”

Phillip didn’t hesitate. He didn’t blush. He walked over, unbuckled his belt, and dropped his tactical trousers and boxers to his ankles in one unceremonious motion. He stood there, limp, waiting for orders.

“Get it hard, idiot,” I commanded. “I can’t work with a wet noodle.”

He frowned slightly, the first crack in the armor. He closed his eyes for a moment, likely running through some mental exercise, and slowly, mechanically, his dick began to stiffen. It wasn’t out of lust. It was out of discipline.

“Okay,” I said. “Stick it in my mouth.”

He stepped forward and pressed the head of his cock against my lips. I opened up and took him in.

The moment he entered my mouth, the attraction spell hit me. The revulsion of being **** to suck a stranger’s dick vanished, replaced by a surge of hot, heavy desire. He tasted musky and clean.

I went to work. I used every trick I had bought with my Influence. I swirled my tongue, I sucked with a rhythmic pressure that defied logic. I hummed against his shaft.

I watched his face. It remained stone. His jaw was set, his eyes staring at the wall. But down below? His body was betraying him. His hips started to twitch. His dick throbbed, swelling in my mouth, harder than he had probably intended.

He was enjoying it. His mind was a fortress, yes, but his body was just meat. And meat responds to a master.

It didn’t take long. Two minutes, maybe three. A low grunt escaped his throat, a sound of pure, involuntary release. He stiffened, his hands twitching at his sides as if he wanted to grab my head but was restrained by his orders.

He erupted. Thick, heavy ropes of cum shot down my throat.

Thanks to my upgrades, it tasted like vanilla. I swallowed it greedily, draining him dry, and then pushed him away with my tongue.

“Done,” I said, licking my lips. “Now stand back.”

Phillip stepped back, pulling up his pants. He looked unbothered.

“What now?” the intercom asked, sounding disappointed.

Phillip opened his mouth to report, but the words turned into a gasp.

He doubled over, clutching his stomach. “Sir… I…”

The sound of tearing fabric filled the small room. His muscles, dense and hard, softened into a layer of powerful, feminine curves.

“What is happening?” Fullerman’s voice rose in panic over the speaker.

Phillip groaned, falling to his knees. His hips cracked and widened, shredding the sides of his pants. His thighs thickened, becoming tree trunks of muscle and soft fat.

He lifted his head, and I watched his face shift. The scar remained, but the jaw softened, the lips plumped, the eyes lashed out. His buzz cut grew rapidly, shooting out into a thick, blonde mane that cascaded down his back.

Two massive mounds of flesh pushed against his vest, swelling into solid, muscular DD-cups.

He wasn’t a bimbo. He wasn’t a petite little thing. He had transformed into an Amazon. A warrior goddess. A comic book superhero come to life.

She panted, kneeling on the floor, sweat dripping from her brow. She looked down at her hands, which were still large but elegant. She grabbed her breasts, squeezing the muscle beneath the fat. She reached for her crotch, feeling the emptiness where her dick used to be.

The silence in the room was deafening.

Then, she smiled.

It wasn't a confused smile. It was a smile of pure, serene clarity.

“Thank you,” she whispered, looking right at me. “Just… thank you.”

She stood up and pulled on her pants, her clothes hanging off her magnificent, powerful frame, and walked to the door, waiting to be let out.

An hour later, Fullerman stormed in. He looked rattled. His tie was loosened, his hair a mess.

“How the hell did you turn our best operative into… into that?!” he shouted, slamming his hand on the table next to me.

I smiled sweetly. “What? He loves it, doesn’t he?”

Fullerman paced the room. “He… She keeps calling herself a she! She keeps assuring us that the tactical advantages of the new body are superior! She says we should try it too! She says it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to her!”

He stopped, staring at me with a mix of fear and greed. “This is… this has to be a magic we aren’t yet privy to. What is going on? How did you do that with just your mouth?”

I just smirked, staying silent.

He glared at me, his eyes searching for answers. Then, his gaze dropped to my hand. My tied hand.

I was fidgeting. A nervous tick. My thumb was rubbing the smooth gold band of the ring.

Fullerman paused. His eyes narrowed.

“Could this…”

Panic, cold and sharp, pierced my chest. I tried to curl my fingers, to hide it, but it was too late.

He lunged.

“No!” I screamed, trashing against the bonds.

He grabbed my left hand, his grip like iron. He wrenched my fingers open.

“A simple gold band,” he muttered. “But you never take it off.”

He pulled.

“Don’t! Please!” I begged, the desperation real for the first time.

The ring slid over my knuckle.

The world stretched. The room seemed to expand. The jumpsuit, which had been tight against my curves, suddenly hung loose. My massive breasts vanished, dissolving into flat pecs. My hips narrowed. The emptiness between my legs was filled with the heavy, familiar weight of my penis.

Fullerman stumbled back, holding the ring up to the light. He stared at me.

Sitting in the chair was no longer the voluptuous, dangerous woman. It was just me. Alex. An average guy in a baggy orange jumpsuit, looking small and pathetic.

“Incredible…” Fullerman breathed. “Physical transmutation based on an artifact.”

“Give it back!” I shouted, my voice cracking. It sounded so deep, so wrong. “That’s mine!”

“Oh, really?” Fullerman turned the ring over in his fingers. He looked at the inscription. “The Woman Within.”

He looked at me, then at the ring. A dark curiosity filled his eyes.

“Let’s see.”

He slid it onto his own finger.

“NO!” I screamed.

Fullerman gasped. His grey suit seemed to swallow him for a second. His shoulders shrank. His hair grew into a sensible, silver bob. His face softened into a stern, matriarchal visage.

He looked down at himself. He touched his chest, finding a modest pair of breasts under his shirt. He felt his crotch.

“Wow,” he said. His voice was a woman’s voice, crisp, authoritative, but distinctly female. “Even the vocal cords. Complete biological reassignment.”

He took the ring off. He shifted back instantly.

“This ring is… spectacular. It appears to transform me into a basic female version of myself, not like what you do to those other women… and my mind is intact.” he whispered.

“Stop using it!” I yelled, straining against the ropes. “It’s not a toy!”

“That’s enough from you,” he snapped. He grabbed the gag from the table and shoved it back into my mouth, buckling it tight.

He picked up a phone on the wall. “Send in Agent Miller.”

A young man walked in. Fullerman simply faced him and put the ring on. Miller stared…

“You’re… did he…” He stammered.

“No. This is different. It’s reversible, controlled by the ring.” He said plainly in his silky smooth feminine voice. “And my mind is still mine. Not like with Phillip. Now, watch this closely.”

Miller looked confused but obeyed. Phillip then started unbuttoning his top.

“Sir! What the hell?!”

“Miller, it’s okay. Just watch.”

Miller watched closely. He looked at Fullerman’s exposed breasts. They were small, and a bit saggy due to his age. He then looked at me, confused.

“Interesting,” Fullerman mused. “When Lehman saw his breasts, he fell in love instantly. But Miller here with mine… nothing. No hypnotic effect.”

He turned to me. “Why is it that your breasts have that effect, but when I wear it, it’s just… biology?”

I stared at him angrily, biting down on the gag. I wasn’t going to tell him about the Influence. About the upgrades. About the fact that the ring was personalized to the user's account.

“Never mind,” Fullerman said, taking the ring off and buttoning up his shirt. “We’ve got plenty of testing to do with this. Take him to the holding cells.”

He slipped the ring into his pocket and walked out.

I watched him go. I felt a hollow pit in my stomach. I had lost the ring. I had lost Alexa. I had lost everything.

Two guards untied me from the chair and hauled me up. They dragged me out into the hallway.

Near the exit, I saw Fullerman talking to Phillip, or Phyllis now. She was standing tall, her military clothes replaced by a large grey t-shirt and sweatpants. She was flexing her arm, admiring the cut of her bicep.

“At least you’ve still got muscle,” Fullerman was saying, rolling his eyes. “Make yourself useful, you idiot, and move the prisoner to the secure quarters. Level 4.”

“Yes, sir,” she boomed, her voice deep and resonant.

She walked over, towering over the guards. “I’ve got him,” she said.

The guards hesitated, but nobody argued with a seven-foot Amazon. They handed me over.

She grabbed my arm. Her grip was strong, but not painful. She marched me down the hall.

We turned a corner. Then another.

Suddenly, she stopped. She looked around. The hallway was empty.

“Follow my lead,” she whispered.

I looked at her, confused.

She started walking again, louder this time. “Oh, really? You need to pee? Well, which is it? Male or female bathrooms?”

She stopped in front of two guards stationed at a checkpoint.

“Sorry, boys,” she said with a wink. “I gotta take this one to have a piss. He’s about to wet himself. I’ll handle it.”

The guards looked at her massive chest, then at her badge. They nodded. “Go ahead.”

She dragged me into the men’s room and locked the door.

I spit the gag out the moment my hands were free. “I don’t need to pee! What the fuck is going on?”

She pointed up. “There’s a vent above the stall. It leads to the alley. We’re only a few blocks away from where they grabbed you. This is your ticket out.”

I stared at her. “Why? Why are you helping me?”

She smiled. It was a genuine, beaming smile. She flexed her pecs, looking down at her body with pure adoration.

“This gift you’ve given me,” she said softly. “This body… the power… this pussy… the feeling… it’s incredible. I was a fortress, yeah. But a fortress is just a prison. Now? I’m free. Thank you.”

I blinked. The magic. It really did brainwash them into loving it.

“I can’t leave without the ring,” I said, panic rising again.

“I can’t help you with that,” she said, her face serious. “Fullerman has it on him, and he’s surrounded by a dozen guards. If you go back there, you’re dead. It’s either this, or stay trapped and be a lab rat for the rest of your life.”

I clenched my fists. She was right. I was powerless as Alex. I needed to regroup. I needed help.

“Okay,” I said. “Okay.”

“Here, you’ll need to get changed too. Take this…”

She handed me the purple slip dress that I was captured in.

“I… I can’t wear this, I’ll attract attention! I’m a man!” I blurted out.

“It’s better than being in an orange jumpsuit, and it’s all I could grab.” She rebutted. “Now hurry!”

She was right. It was better than the Orange jumpsuit. Nobody will call the cops about an escaped prisoner if they just see me wearing a dress, even if it does look odd. I quickly snatched it from her hands and changed into it.

She boosted me up, and I kicked the grate open and hauled myself into the dusty shaft.

“Good luck, Alex,” she called up.

I crawled. I crawled until my knees were scraped and my lungs burned. Finally, I found the exit grate. I kicked it out and fell onto the wet pavement of a back alley.

I scrambled up and ran. I ran until my chest heaved, weaving through the dark streets until I hit a main avenue.

I hailed a cab, practically throwing myself into the back seat.

“Where to?” the driver asked, eyeing my dress in the rearview mirror.

I hesitated. I couldn’t go home. They’d be waiting. I couldn’t go to the office.

I needed the team. I needed the only people who knew the truth.

I gave the driver Sarah’s address.

I had ****. I had to get the ring back. And I was going to need help.

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