Dr. Walters

A tall, bespectacled man with a white lab coat enters. His face carries a warm, reassuring smile that instantly puts you at ease.

"Good day, Alex," he greets you with a nod, his voice calm and professional. "I’m Dr. Walters I see you're here for a mod chosen by someone else. Brave. That’s a risky choice. Are you doing it for someone special?”

“Ummn,” you start, unsure of how to explain your friends’ game, “My friend Olivia chose it for me.”

“Ah,” the doctor says knowingly, “You must trust this friend quite a bit.”

“Yeah. We’ve known each other our whole lives,” you enthuse.

“Sounds like she knows you very well then,” the doctor says, “If you’d step behind that screen and change into this patient’s gown.”

You do as he asks, trading your clothes for a teal gown that you know is going to show off your ass to everyone. When you step back out, another man is in the room.

“This is Dr. Jones, our anesthesiologist,” Dr. Walters tells you, “He is just going to give you something to help you sleep for a few hours. When you wake up, it’ll be to a new you.”

Heart beating fast, still not sure if you really want this, you take a seat and allow Dr. Jones to press a mask over your mouth and nose. His face is the last thing you see as you drift to sleep.

You slowly begin to regain consciousness, your senses emerging from the depths of a hazy dreamlike state. The world starts as a blur, but you blink and your vision gradually sharpens, you become aware of the unfamiliar, brightly lit room surrounding you. Panic and disorientation flutter within as your groggy mind races to make sense of your surroundings. "Hey there, sleepy-head," a familiar voice breaks through the haze. It's Olivia.

Your heart skips a beat as recognition dawns, and you turn your head to find your best friend, Olivia, standing nearby. Her face is filled with anticipation and a hint of mischief, which only intensifies your curiosity about the modifications you've undergone.

“Hey, Liv,” you croak, your voice slightly hoarse as you attempt to sit up. The disorientation lingers, and the room's brightness feels overwhelming. Olivia's presence provides a comforting anchor in this unknown territory, but you can't help but wonder what she had done to you.

“So do I get to know what my mod is now?” you tone is light and joking, but inside your terrified, thinking about your mutual friend, Tom, and how he went to the clinic for his turn and woke up without a dick. You hope to god you still have your clit.