Wouldn't be a story if you didn't say yes....

“What happens if I don't?” You consider. Give up on sleeping with women? Of being a man? Of eventually being the father you never had? Ugh, the desire that always comes with this form….

“Nothing.” The old man's voice pauses, “...or rather, exactly what you're already dealing with,” the doc replies in your head, “I hop my anchor back onto my assistant, and you try to figure out how to control it yourself. I can recommend a few meditation guides, but you have a fundamental problem: The urge to breed requires you to be female, for that is what your body truly is, and that will continue to make itself known every time you get ‘excited’.” He takes a moment to let that sink in. “So you have basically three options:” He takes a breath, “First, continue as you are. Learn to live with switching back to your base form every time you see a beautiful woman.” He pauses, while you consider that fixing that is why you came here in the first place. “Second, learn meditation or something similar: Suppress the desire to breed, and stay a man.” During his pause, you realize you have no particular desire to never think of sex again.

He then gets to what he obviously wants: “Third: Let me train you as a hero. Pick a small power set, I can probably make something very close happen. It will be dependent on some items you'll need to wear at first, but the need for those will fade with practice. Yes, you'll be functionally stuck as a physical female, but you'll have super powers, I can guarantee a viable career as a sponsored hero, and I can absolutely introduce you to the world of the lesbian hook up sub-culture.”

You can't believe you're… okay, comic power, the implication of regular sex with women… you'd say you're thinking with your dick, but you don't have it right now… thinking with your cunt? It's certainly feeling needy. Anyway… this half-life of the last week isn't exactly attractive. So trading in your masculinity is apparently the best option… honestly, the rest of it sounds far too good to be true, and he can't be getting anything from you giving up on being a man, so… “what else is this going to cost me? What are you getting out of this?”

“Bright boy…” the old man's voice in your head chuckles, “...a couple of things. First, I actually have an agreed-upon rate with your insurance company for certain types of therapy. We will be doing two hours a day of training, which qualifies as ‘Metahuman Therapy’ as you have a documented issue related to your powers.”

“That's covered?” You’re seriously surprised.

“A little known clause of the Affordable Care Act,” the old man chuckles, “you won't even need a copay. That's not what actually interests me, however. There's two big ticket items that do.” He takes a breath again, “First is the philanthropist in me: Without a route to get a handle on things, you'll get desperate, and the strength of your soul will manifest something ugly out of perceived necessity: By actively training you for hero-dom and giving you a suitable and sustainable support structure, I prevent a monster from ever forming _and_ create a force for good. That's a win for you and everyone else.”

You're young, but you're not totally stupid…stupid horny, though, "With that much buttering up, the less 'philanthropic' reason is going to be a doozy.”

“Again, bright boy. You'll go far…” the doctor pauses, “I'm a symbiotic entity, I don't have a significant body of my own. When you turn in and go to bed - or when you specifically let me - I'll take over your body for the length of time you were planning to sleep. You won't suffer for it: For all purposes you will be getting as much rest as if you went to sleep.”

That's… certainly a doozy. “And what will you do?” You picture him using your body to bed other women… man that's hot….

“Lots of things,” he answers, “Maintain my fortune. Exercise my own power. Go dancing. Date people. Have sex… and don't worry, I can prevent pregnancy and disease, complete non-issues there… make friends. Coordinate the occasional super operation. Live a life.”

If pregnancy is something he'd need to stop, he's talking about getting a long, hard, thick… stupid hormones… “I don't want to get in trouble for something you do.” This sounds like a deal with a devil, almost….

“You will be my host for several months,” the man chuckles, “I'll be sharing your life. If you're dressed in rags, I'm dressed in rags. If the mob is beating up on you, I'll feel it too. If you get arrested and put in prison, they'd put my anchor in a holding box for the duration. Anything that blows back on you also blows back on me. I'm going to take pains to avoid messing up your life. That said, I am human - or at least I was - and will make the occasional mistake.”

You find your hand slipping between your legs, rubbing your lower lips, as the actual woman in the room looks away, blushing. “Yes…” you moan.

The voice of the old man considers a bit, “With the arousal and the activity, I'm going to need something a bit clearer than that verbal. If you need some release, just tell Catherine there ‘Plan 69’. Something like that is commonly necessary in the case of sex-based curses, so there's some exceptions for prostitution laws; I still can't require an employee to perform, but can set up bonuses when she does. And yes, she's into women.”

Oh yes, oh yes… “Yes, I'll be your host while yoi train me to have super powers. And umm... plan 69,” you pant out, ”please?”

“All right…” the woman you originally thought was the doctor… Catherine, apparently… smiles and licks her lips as she starts unbuttoning her uniform, revealing that she's not wearing a bra….