What's an EEG?

You're led down a hallway through a few turns until you reach yet another nondescript solid white door. There, Sam turns to you and says, "Jane, I"m so sorry, but I'll have to leave you here. The doc says you have to be on your own for a while. I wish I could stay and be here for you but she says it would hurt more than help." She wraps her arms around you giving you another big warm hug, reminding you how it feels to be cared for. It ends far too soon as a sad smile forms on her face and she ushers you through the door. "Good luck!"

Reluctantly you enter.

The room is small, white, and well lit, slightly larger than that of a bathroom. You see a brown easy chair and table in the center of the room and a small sink and mirror on one wall. There is another door opposite the one you entered. You stand there, nervously waiting, feeling uncomfortable as you glimpse your reflection in the mirror. The shy redhaired woman looking back at you in tight blouse and short skirt. You quickly look away, not wanting to remind yourself of what you've become, still wanting to hide from the truth of your situation for as long as you can. Knowing that things might not change as soon as you hope.

After what seems like an eternity, the other door opens and out walks a voluptuous raven haired woman. She's wearing a white lab coat and blouse and dark pencil skirt. Her tall white heels emphasize her long legs and smooth calves. Her black hair is wrapped in a tight bun, and dark eyeshadow accentuates her brown eyes, a deep brown that's staring directly at you. She walks right up to you, never losing eye contact, making you even more uneasy as she approaches. She stops within inches, her eyes staring into you. You break, unable to hold her gaze, looking down and away, nervous and afraid. Her lips purse as she slowly and intently examines you up and down, standing uncomfortably close. Her hand reaches out towards your face only to gently grasp your red hair and watch as it falls through her fingers. She then runs a single finger along your face, slowly tracing your jawline down to your chin. You stand there, unable to speak, unable to move, only watching, entranced by her actions. She then delicately parts your lips with her thumb. Your bottom lip bounces back as she withdraws her hand. Goosebumps race across your skin.

Then as if you've just been shaken from a dream she starts, "I am Dr. Medea. I will be testing your alpha wave responses using an electroencephalograph to determine what stimulation your visual cortex provides to different sections of your brain. From there we will determine which treatment method to use." She takes note of your apparent confusion on your face and continues, "Oh don't worry you're pretty little head, it's all quite safe and comfortable." The tone of her smooth voice lingers in your ears.

At that moment the familiar Dr. Lybeck enters the now crowded small room. Her blonde, hair tied up in a pony tail, bounces to and fro as her heels clip on the tile with each step. She carries a wooden box towards the two of you. "Doe, you are very fortunate to have Dr. Medea working on your case. Her work in biochemistry and neurology is beyond compare. I have no doubt that she will be able to discern what treatments are necessary to redress your transmogrification." She sets the wooden box on the table. The two of them seem to share a knowing look and then she leaves out the same door she entered.

Dr. Medea looks directly at you and states, "I want you to sit."

You do as asked, feeling quite small now in the large easy chair as you watch while she opens the strange box and begins removing various electronics. There's a small black device, it reminds you of a computer router or cable box or something similar with assorted wires and connections. She places that on the table next to you and then pulls out an odd helmet. It's rather large, like a motorcycle helmet, though it has additional wires and electronics attached to the outside. She reaches out and places it on your head and though her voice now sounds muffled from inside the helmet, you hear her say, "This is the EEG. It will provide the necessary readings and help maintain a controlled environment. Once you are in the simulation your brain will provide me with all the necessary information on how to proceed. It's entirely safe, however if you encounter any discomfort feel free to call out and I will terminate the testing."

Your head and neck quickly adjust to the weight of the padded helmet and except for the obvious sound muffling and slightly reduced vision, it's almost like it's not there. You continue watching as she begins connecting wires from the helmet to the instrument on the table. There's a hushed beep as she flips a switch and you notice various led's light up on the machine. She adjusts the helmet, then looks back to the instrument and with a satisfied look she grabs the last remaining wire from the box and looks down at you.

"Now, I want you to raise your skirt."

"What?" You squeak. You weren't quite expecting that. In fact, you weren't expecting that at all, which probably explains your look of shock as you sit there frozen.

"I said I want you to raise your skirt." She says more firmly.

"O-ok." You hesitantly reach down with both hands and grasp the edge of your plaid skirt and begin raising it but stop just short of the point of embarrassment.

"More."

You pull up even farther, enough now to show your pink panties but you hesitate going more.

"All the way."

You reveal the entirety of your nether region. The skirt now bunched about your waist, your pink panties laid exposed, your tiny lump easy for her to discern.

She reaches down and begins to pull on your panties but quickly withdraws her hand. "They're wet!" she exclaims with disgust in her eyes. "Why are they wet?"

A flood of embarrassment washes over you as you recall your recent indiscretion, of getting off to your own image as a girl, of the need to wash your cum out of those panties, of trying so hard to hide it so that no one would know. Why does she need to see your panties? Why couldn't you control yourself? Why? Finding no answers, you can only look down at the floor in shame. After a while she sighs, "Pull them down."

You do as your told, feeling disgraced. She's right, they're still damp and have that lukewarm feeling from being tight against your skin. Tugging at them awkwardly they finally pull free from your ass cheeks and slide halfway down your thighs. The fabric stretched taught between your legs. Your flaccid little prick now bare for her to see amidst a small tuft of red pubic hair. That lone reminder that you're still male even though you appear female in every other aspect. You glance back at her to see that she's now donned latex gloves. A small twinge of fear runs through you as you return your gaze to the floor.

"I've been told you've chosen a name for yourself. Is this true?"

"Yes." your voice is timid and feminine.

"What is it?"

"Jane."

"Jane? Hardly suitable," she scoffs, "but I guess it will do." She bends over you, drawing your chin up to look her in the face. She holds what looks like a black rubber band with a wire dangling between the two of you as she continues, "I will now place the final sensor upon your..." She looks down at your hips and smirks, "penis." As she returns a smug smile back to you.

Reaching down, she grabs hold of your prick and begins placing the small black band over it. It easily falls down encircling the base where she then pulls your testicles into the ring as well. She holds your cock and balls up in her gloved fingertips and begins to cinch that binding around you. The entire ordeal is painfully embarrassing and awkward until she finally looks satisfied as she drops your tackle and pulls your skirt back down to cover your privates. "There." She attaches the trailing wire to the device on the table and presses another button.

"Can I...." You motion towards your panties, still taught between your legs.

"Yes, yes. Put yourself back together."

You quickly pull them back up, trying to regain any sense of dignity you once had.

"Now Jane," You can tell she's hardly trying to hide her contempt for your name, "what you're about to experience is quite unique. What you wear is a one of a kind instrument. It's been extremely valuable to me in other applications and though I've modified the program in order to accommodate your... particular situation, there will be necessary calibration points during the analysis. It's entirely automated but I'm not quite sure what it will do in this scenario. You're an interesting case," Her eyes once again glance up and down your form, "at least for now. I can only recommend that you relax, act normal, and respond as best as you can." And with a giggle she concludes, "And remember, it's only your future we're talking about here."