Issue 1

That isn't to say the doctor doesn't get private sector clients for his super powers… but he does have a hefty fee and vetting process for those who aren't either friends or referrals from friends. One of which is on schedule for today.

Benjamin sits back, waiting in his office, sipping tea. He doesn't really need it: His powers keep him awake and alert, and do far more to keep him young than any antioxidants… but he finds the flavor of tea soothing… and as much as he refuses to admit to it, his powers make him enjoy the fact that the rose tea he's currently drinking comes out pink.

That is, however, the only bending Benjamin permits himself to the psychological impact of his power. His office chairs are dark green recliners, his desk is solid oak, the curtains are a matching green, and the walls are covered by bookshelves, full of various medical texts and archived journals. There's a window behind him, looking out over the garden behind his private practice… not a single flower in it: It's a relaxing path through Japanese maples.

Oh, the doctor has examination rooms as well - this is his office, where he relaxes between patients… or takes those where the point is to have a conversation, not to examine the body… which is why he's here today.

The patient's file is out and open on his desk - Dr. Beaux is much older than he appears, and simply prefers paper… so he had one of his staff nurses print it all out; anything he doesn't update goes in the shredder after the interview. Stage four cancer; medically speaking, there's nothing to be done. Oh, the doctors could slow it down, drag it out for six months or so… with great pain and many side effects. The eighty-five year old former CEO of a major international corporation, however, didn't like that answer… and yes, eventually managed a referral to the doctor.

“Well… if he's willing to pay the piper…” Dr. B M. Beaux shrugs to himself, causing his bountiful breasts to bounce for a while underneath his lab coat.

Shortly thereafter, there's a knock at the door, and the nurse announces the patient, “Hey boss, like, Mr. Kaiden Evans is totally here to see you, sir. And he's totally squeaky clean. I like, checked VERY thoroughly for a wire. And Oh Em Gee is it hard to get his yummy meat popsicle to respond.”

“Send him in,” the doctor nods, and takes a breath.

The nurse wheels the patient in, still hooked up to an IV. He's a wreck… sunken eyes, odd bumps every here and there, no hair… he doesn't have long. He's smiling, though. It's a nice, tailored silk suit he's wearing. Quite the contrast to the nurse, who's dressed more like a stripper pretending to be a nurse than an actual nurse… and fills out the costume better than most adult movie stars.

The newcomer frowns, “Where's the….”

“I am the doctor,” Benjamin interrupts in his soprano voice, “The hair, chest, small nose, pointed chin, eyelashes, and more are all side effects of my power…” he takes a deep breath, “...side effects you also will have, if we go through with this.”

He pauses, “You're going to charge me through the nose to turn me into a woman? I should get a discount for…”

“The money is a filter, Mr. Evans,” the doctor shakes his head as he interrupts again, “and is not negotiable. I'm over two hundred years old myself, I make more than what I'm charging you in interest on my investments. I charge what I do to cut down on how often I'm bothered by idiots who don't even read the pamphlet. Yes, I can cure your cancer, painlessly and instantly. The treatment leaves you physically about twenty five as well, buying you another fifty or sixty years until you're face to face with Mr. Grim again, provided you're careful, eat right, and exercise,” and most converts get plenty of exercise on their backs… at least until the mental portion wears off. Benjamin chuckles, “and as a known side effect, it will remold your body into quite the bimbo. There are also some mental effects in the same vein, but those will fade with time.” ‘Just not for me’, Dr. Beaux thinks to himself as he mentally suppresses yet another ‘duh,’ “Physically, you will be fully female, with very large mammary glands - patients usually end up somewhere in the E to G range,” he does not add, ‘on the European scale’, as this guy has been a bit of a jerk. “although some end up outside that range.” Mostly on the high side for the outliers… although there was one lucky individual that got just a pair of double d's, “will have a thin waist, wide child-bearing hips, and yes, a complete and fully functional female reproductive tract,” he avoids adding, ‘which is liable to be hosting a child inside of a month due to the behavioral influence.’ That does depend on the man's behavior afterwards, and the doctor already covered that his patients are fertile and have behavioral influences, if briefly… and the mental stuff can be overcome by one who is strong of will.

“Can't you just…” the octogenarian begins.

“I can't make you young again without tossing you across the gender fence, no,” having had this conversation hundreds of times, the doctor really doesn't need to hear the entire question, “my power is inherently feminine, and everything it touches becomes so,” ‘or dies,’ the doctor thinks, but doesn't add. “I can help you out with ID; I do transitions regularly in my civilian practice, running the paperwork for one that wasn't actually hormones and surgery is no big deal. Your fingerprints will mostly match, the medical records will be in place, and the paperwork will be on file; just don't let anyone test you genetically, and you'll have everything you need to prove in court that you're still you.”

“Why not…” the client begins.

“Because when I'm done, you won't have a Y chromosome anymore,” the doctor shrugs, and doesn't miss that his client's eyes follow the resulting jiggle, “and your DNA will be basically perfect - no genetic faults at all, which means you could safely have a child by your father were he still around. But more immediately relevant, it means a genetic test will say you're not you. That'll be the only real weapon that the people itching to inherit your money will have in court.” Dr. B. M. Beaux has seen it play out many times. “The hair will be on file as a medical transplant from an organ donor, as will the uterus, ovaries, clitorous, and so on. It will even be documented that I went in and reshaped your bones. But no surgery will replace all of your DNA, and if that gets out, you'll lose it all, and probably be thrown in prison for fraud.” And if that happens, one of the doctor's nurses will willingly take the fall for faking the paperwork and go to prison for a while in the doctor's stead. The youngest of them is ninety, they work for the anti-aging treatments far more than the money, and know very well that if they don't take the fall when needed, they won't be re-hired when the doctor finishes his sentence, and so will eventually die of old age… but that they will be re-hired with a big fat signing bonus once they get out if they do take the fall. Most of them have done it at least once; Nancy's next in line to risk it. The doctor smiles, “If you don't pay in full, I won't lift a finger against you… but I also won't lift a finger to help you: The paperwork won't exist until after the check clears. You'll end up zeroed - a young woman with no money, identity, or family… fodder for the bordellos. I've been burned before, I know how to play the game.”

The old man frowns, “Are you threatening me?”

Benjamin chuckles, “Not at all. I'm simply laying down the payment terms and penalties, as you clearly didn't read the pamphlet. You can easily say ‘no,’ and leave as you are, no harm done.”

“Other than that I'm dying….” the aged man growls.

“Through no action of mine; everyone dies eventually, Mr. Kaiden Evans.” The doctor chuckles, “Anyway, I have another appointment scheduled today, so….”

“Yes, you vulture,” the ex-CEO growls, “take the money. I'll deal with the side effects,” and then more quietly, “I just want to live….”

‘They always do…’ the doctor thinks as he smiles and nods, reaching for a phone on his desk, pressing the call button, “He's agreed. Please send Nancy in with the paperwork and her notary kit.”

After a minute or two of silence, Nancy comes in… another blonde nurse that looks like a stripper or porn star… and lays out a bundle of paperwork as Dr. B. M. Beaux leans back.

Nancy gets to work, “Okie dokie, we totally need your signature here, but here you just, like, need to initial, oh yeah, and I totally need to see your ID….”

The two go through the various legal hoops needed to get the transition paperwork in order. Nancy collects the man's check, and sets everything aside, then stands ready.

The old man frowns, “So… what's next?”

Nancy giggles, “It's, like, time to strip down, Mistah Evans. I can totally help if you need it, but like, Oh Em Gee it hurts if you're wearing clothes that won't fit after, and your new boobies would totally wreck the clothes anyway when the doctor, like, fixes you up.”

The doctor chuckles at the look on his client's face, “It's one of the perks I give to my employees: Nancy here is a hundred and fourteen…”

“That was like two decades ago boss,” the nurse giggles, “although I totally appreciate you shaving a few years off.”

The doctor pretends that was why he got the number wrong as he continues, “...and she was an A-cup when I hired her on. Suffice to say she speaks from experience.”

“Oh yeah, I'm, like, up to a double F cup now,” Nancy jumps in, “you're totally going to like having some nice big titties to play with.”

The ex-ceo frowns as he starts fumbling with his clothes, “Am I going to lose my mind…” he shudders.

“It's like, a temporary effect,” Nancy informs the man with a giggle, “The boss keeps us totally topped off because it, like, stops bullets and stuff if there's extra in our systems and he cares about us and doesn't want us hurt… but that totally means we're always soaking the side effects too. But Oh Em Gee it is totes fun. You'll only have it for like, a few months, and it doesn't actually mess up your head… I can still, like, recite my times tables backwards and I totally ace the medical exams every cycle.”

Nancy takes a breath to continue the explanation at the look on Kaiden's face, but the doctor interrupts, “He doesn't need to know how immortals handle identification among mortals, Nancy.” It's actually part of the reason he became a medical doctor in a small town. It's about a forty year cycle: He plants all the paperwork in the system for having a daughter, and keeps up with it - vaccinations, home schooling records, checkups, the whole nine yards - then assumes his daughter's legal identity and goes to college again when ‘she’ hits eighteen, and again becomes a doctor. He also, of course, files the **** paperwork for his old identity at some point, managed by ‘his daughter,’ who of course inherited his practice when he ‘retired.’ It takes a really long time to pull off, but the resulting ID is basically bulletproof as everything goes in through official channels on the expected timing. For the locals, he's simply ‘Dr. Beaux’, and any comments about him not aging are addressed with comments about good genes, makeup, and how it's impolite to inquire about age. He does the same rigamorole for his nurses, each being their own daughter. As a bonus, they always stay up to date on medicine.

“...I could use some help, yes…” the client admits.

Nancy strips the man down, letting her ample cleavage touch him far more than is strictly necessary, her chest falling out of her top at one point… which she doesn't bother to correct, leaving her rather pointed milk spouts visible in the warm air of the room. Once the man is nude, the nurse sets up a camera and begins recording, and the doctor asks the client a question one final time: “Are you sure? This cannot be undone.”

The ex-CEO takes a slow, ragged breath, his staff at half-mast and twitching slightly with his pulse, “Yes, I'm sure. Make me into a young, healthy woman.”

The doctor's eyes briefly flare pink, lighting up the room, and in a heartbeat the job is done: where once sat a dying old man, now sits a young blonde bimbo. Rail thin legs replaced with a pair of thighs that just don't quit. His bony backside converted to her beautiful bubble butt. Where once was a flat chest now hang two glorious globes bigger than the new woman's head. The hairless head of the old man replaced with a wanton slut's head, including perfect blonde hair that falls down over the back of the chair. His pecker gone, replaced with an open, hungry, dripping hole, a pink little nub visibly throbbing with desire between the open lips.

“Oh. Em. Gee.” The newly minted woman's eyes are wide open, “You totally weren't kidding, I feel, like, PERFECT… just, like… I totally need to get laid, pronto. Where…”

Nancy giggles, “the house across the street has, like, a totally yummy studmuffin that doesn't ask meaningless questions and won't, like, pester you after.” The nurse giggles again, “but, duh, make sure he uses a rubber: He totally forgets if you don't remind him, and he's like kinda broke.”

Unfortunately for the client, he… or rather, she… is already out the door by the time Nancy gets to the second sentence….