You had quite sometime alone

"Great, I'm in prison." Your eyes went on the particular door, brushing off the red hair to see rough steel for the most part and left a bit of wide slot up.

"And back to the tight spy suit." Your gaze downwards couldn't met the mouthwatering cleavage, leaving you with the orbs framed by the suit.

The reality of being a super-spy chick had blazed in from hours ago, where you tapped those slender legs around school and deliver knuckle-sandwiches to the people attacking you. This super-spy, whoever she was, gave you the rush that you could never pull off in your thin, languid body with uncontrolled diet. The feeling of moving your arms and legs then had this better fluidity and further emphasized by the newfound strength with no fat-wobbling whatsoever.

But being a woman was still a big deal. For starters, there's a different set of weights as you walk around the room. A weird sense but a manageable absence of something down on your crotch. Your hips can't help to sway with your legs to freely take the steps 'differently' of the dickless crotch. The default heels, however, didn't help you and was the second obstacle to your wobbly feet-by-feet walk. You then found yourself again looking down to those delicious breasts, can't help looking at some jiggles as you kept track of your feet walking down there.

"Steady... steady, Whoaaa crap." You took a misstep and fell to the floor, though your hands manage to hold you up and away from a chest pain.

"These heels really have to go!" You then immediately access your wrist watch, whilst having the earlier fine prom dress in mind.

"Oh great, locked." But the feature was inaccessible, with the padlock image and screen not transitioning.

"Hmm..." Although there's the 'About' section after a right swipe, guessing some fog of questions could be cleared here.

"So her name's Natalie Rushman. 28 years old. Ethnicity Russian, that explains the peculiar husky tone... aand Height 5'8 feet. And nothing else." You read the brief and found nothing else as you scrolled down the screen.

"So I'm a woman, and I'm Russian." You concluded, and thought of few words to hear your new voice said.

"Cyka Blyat!" You yelled, sit up straight and pointed to the wall.

"Rush B! Rush B!" and yelled again, then stood up and trot around the small room.

"Hahahaha!!!... huhhh." You laughed loud out of the exquisite voice and panted from the hilarity.

"Right, I'm a woman.... I'm a woman." Your mind sank into the major body difference.

"Hmmhmmm." Your eyes gazing onto the hefty bosom, naturally pushing away thoughts of the situation and many other differences that occur. Meanwhile your hands was lured with fantasies and slowly reaching the zipline, wanted to answer your curiosities.

"Glad you're being acquainted."

The Sarge's heavy voice was heard all of the sudden.

"Y-yeah." Your attention went towards the still closed door, while hustling the skidding feet up. He's also the sign of immediate retreat from the unmoved zipline.

"Gaahhhh!!!" Instead of the door opening, you felt a poke on your back. Aghast, you only managed to drag away from him on the floor.

You turned for a sudden to see a rather short burly man, in a black leather coat like Nick Fury. No eyepatches, brown hair and a dark face with enough facial hairs.

You thought to his short height for a man and even called 'The Sarge' to giggled a bit. Who teaches him how to fight? Yoda?

But you quickly shut it after seeing those fairly large arms, and his serious body figure screamed plenty of muscles.

"You got any jokes to tell?" The Sarge scowled

"N-no uh, sorry." You timidly said, and sat yourself upright.

"Then it's my height, some big reveal huh." The Sarge seriously smiled at your nervousness. He’s about your ‘current’ shoulder height as you stood up to respect his authority.