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Chapter 4 by Mr Nice Guy Mr Nice Guy

Who is driving?

The Nurse

It's a long drive to the safe house. Or what you assume is a safe house. As it stands, you are unsure about everything. When you testified against the crime syndicate, had you been told that you would end up as you were now, you might have had second thoughts. Would have had second thoughts, you realize, as your unbound breasts bounced as the van hit a pot hole.

You look around the van at your fellow passengers, all clad in hospital gowns, just like you. On the back bench with you, to your right, is the tall, muscular man you had met earlier, the one who had formerly been your wife. Kaitlin? Yes, you're almost positive that was her, er, his name. It takes a great amount of concentration to retrieve it now, though. As you stare at him, new feelings swell in your stomach, making you feel giddy, making you feel warm, not feelings you embrace, but feelings you can't avoid. There is a new name for this man forming in your mind, something masculine, but you look away before it solidifies.

Ahead of you is a young man with his arms crossed, looking out the window, a frustrated pout on his face. "This is bullshit," he mutters again, for at least the fifth time on the drive. You empathize with him. This young man, Jeremy?, used to have a different name. Jessica. That was it. You have a memory of naming her as an infant, a proud father. Well, not really a memory. It's more like a memory of something you read once. This young man, this Jeremy, was having a new life thrust on him without any say, without any choice.

Thrust.

You squeeze your legs together at the word. Your new body, your new life, seems to be more attuned to sex than your old one, which is an amazing feat. Previously, when you were, um, Robert, you took great pride in your virility. Now, as, um... what was your name again? You feel like you've been upgraded to a Corvette from a Chevette. Your eyes drop down to your neighbour's sizable crotch and lick your lips. Maybe at the safe house you'll be able to corner him and convince him to bend you over and...

STOP!

You need to focus on something else! You are Robert Talbot! Or maybe Roger Talbot? Whatever! You're, like, a man, and you can't start thinking with your pussy!

Soft weeping snaps you out of it. You look up to the other seat in front of you and see the young Asian woman holding her head in her dainty hands. Adam... Alex... um... Andy. Yes, that's who that was. Your son. Her features are hidden by her long black hair, but your mind slips back to entering the van behind her, her amazing ass, her huge breasts, her cute, kissable lips. Again a fire in your loins flares up. Are you bisexual now? You allow an experimental fantasy to flit through your imagination, one that involves you, a man, a woman, and a rose-petal covered bed, and find nothing you dream of disgusting to your new sensibilities.

And why would it? You're an adult, aren't you? You should totally be able to decide who you want to suck, who you want to fuck. You're, like, a woman of the world! So what if you like to sleep with both women and men!

ROBERT TALBOT! You remind yourself. You can feel yourself slipping away with each passing moment, a new personality taking over, wiping away the things that made you Robert. Roderick? Randy??

Damnit.

"We're here," the nurse said from the driver's seat, "everyone get ready to move quickly."

What's next?

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