Bonnie Does Some Regrouping of her Own

Andrew Blake was Bonnie's neighbor living a few doors down. He was a monstrously proportioned man who had managed to pack nearly five hundred pounds of fat onto his six foot eight inch frame. This proved to be extremely fortunate for Bonnie, as Andrew tended to hang his clothes out to dry. She slipped into his backyard in the early morning and found herself a pair of black sweatpants and matching hoodie. The size on the hoodie was XXXL.

To Bonnie's shock, the clothes were actually a tight fit. The hoodie didn't quite cover her midriff, revealing her pale, rippling abs to the cool air. Meanwhile, the arms clung to hulking arms. The sweatpants rode up past her ankles and pressed tightly against her crotch, revealing a masculine bulge that left little to the imagination.

"It'll have to do," Bonnie said forlornly, gently cupping her crotch.

This was a big mistake. Her soft penis immediately engorged with blood and stretched down the length of her thigh.

"No! I need to focus. I need to figure this whole thing out. God, what do I do?"

Home. That was Bonnie's best thought. She needed to regroup and what better place to do so than her house?

With that decided, Bonnie began to walk back towards her home. As she did so, began to distract herself by thinking idly about what had happened. The woman in her was horrified by what she had become, but the scientist in her was oddly curious. The plant that had done this to her had defied all modern biological conventions. It wielded a mutagen unlike anything else seen in nature, one so powerful it was able to trigger a change in sex in another organism in a matter of minutes.

Bonnie began to wonder how deep the changes to her body went. Had her genes changed? If so, to what extent? Did she still possess XX chromosomes, or had they changed to XY? She suspected the latter. She felt male, as odd as that sounded when she said it out loud. It was like her fundamental essence had shifted. She was a male, but not quite a man. Her voice was deep and masculine, her muscles were huge, and her downstairs area was built for penetrating a vagina, but there were subtle differences that combined to set her apart from her "brothers".

She still had boobs, which flummoxed her. Not only were they still present, they were bigger and bouncier than ever. Her skin was softer than before, her lips fuller. She was, in truth, prettier than ever. She wasn't quite a man or a woman, she supposed. An in-between. Not a hermaphrodite - she didn't have a vagina anymore and she suspected her ovaries were now dangling between her legs as testicles. More of a shemale, as dirty and unpleasant as that title sounded to her.

Bonnie's erection had not gone down. It surged against the fabric, causing a stain of precum to form on the pants near the tip. A wave of testosterone followed the surging of her penis. As alien and uncomfortable as it was, Bonnie couldn't deny that the feeling was kind of intoxicating. She felt strong and confident. Her cock bulged like a lance between her tree trunk legs.

Bonnie hoped her transformation was reversible, but a small yet growing part of her was okay with the possibility that it wasn’t.

“Maybe it isn’t so bad,” she said, gently stroking the length of her cock over the fabric. “Being a boy has its benefits.”

As Bonnie thought this, she rounded the corner on her house and saw a car parked in the driveway. A moment later, a woman she didn’t recognize emerged from the drivers side. Immediately, she hid behind some bushes and watched closely.

The passenger door opened and out popped Anthony. He seemed different somehow, but Bonnie couldn’t tell how so from the distance.

A wave of shame hit Bonnie. Anthony, her best friend, her secret crush. He would never accept her now. She wanted to run into the woods and never return, but her curiosity got the better of her. Slowly, she crept up to her house and trailed the pair.