He wants to speak to me about my "profile."

"Excuse me," Dr. Holden says opening the closed door quietly. I see his head poking through the small crack he made and looks to me and asks, "Can I come in?" I nod and he quietly slips in and closes the door. He walks to the desk and rolls out the office chair, sits in it, and faces me. "I guess you're probably wondering I know that you're 'name' is Allen. I don't if you want to know what I'm all about but I want to ask you if you wanted to know. Did you want to know?"

Looking at the I.D. card again and then looking back up to focus on his face, I simply respond, "Yeah," gulping a wad of saliva after, to try and get ready for the truth.

"Well, you, Allen, four weeks ago, thought life was going to get any better. You ran out of your job and drove out of the city," the doctor tells me in amazing detail of the way I ran out of my job feeling humiliated. But I but in with a question on how he even knows these things.

"Wait, wait a minute, how do know what 'Allen' did that day?" I ask in third-person the question to Dr. Holden.

"Do you remember what happened after your car overheated?" Dr. Holden asks.

"Well, I did get knocked out but I don't know what could have caused it," I say looking down at the floor, but when I look up I see the same face I saw before the meal, earlier in the day. I finally realize, but don't believe it. Instead I ask, "Wait, you weren't..." but the doctor immediately butts in and answers right away with a nod and a reasoned stare, which stops me from finishing my question.

Dr. Holden gives me a long explanation that is both bizarre and unusual but when I listen to his words, every single second that passes I believe every part more and more.

"Well, let's see how do I start this? Well, I was in the car you saw when you stopped beside that road. You only saw headlights because I had the high beams on. That gave me the opportunity to take a tranquilizer gun and shoot you with a high-velocity dart, knocking you out. I had Sasha there with me. She helped me get your heap of manliness into the car. She took your heap of a ride and followed me in my car to this very clinic. For four weeks, I painstakingly made a top-secret concoction and injected it into your male body. In the course of three weeks and four days, the concoction I made literally transformed your male body into the body you see in the mirror to this very day. The only thing that the concoction couldn't change was everything associated with the mind. Your skin, hair, bone structure, and genitals were affected and were decided beforehand by me. I had mixed different girls from the modeling world and made a draft of your body. Your body is the final draft. Only the brain and the memories and the relationship between the brain and the body were unaffected. This is why I brought you here.

"You must be wondering who Sasha is anyways. Yes, she's a very good friend and I've known her for two years. She's 24, and I made her when she was at 22." I stop his explanation for a second asking about a little detail.

"Wait, what do you mean 'made?'" I quickly ask to clear things up and to make the doctor give more details.

"Well, in my work you are my fourth creation. Yes, you are the fourth girl I made so far. Sasha's the third. Like you, she was a 20-year-old geek stuck in a dead-end job who actually had an interest in what it would be like as the opposite sex. I wanted to make that desire come true and gave her the perfect body for her. But not like you, she doesn't have the male memories anymore."

"Why is that?" I ask.

"I offered her what I couldn't offer to the first two girls I made. I offered her that I had gained the skills and the equipment for a memory wipe. I could erase all the male memories and replace them with a evolving female profile. Evolving because some of memories you can remember and some that stays dormant, and your unable to remember it immediately. The female memories include those that you have when you are in the female body but you can request for those to be replaced as well. So would you want to have the memory replacement?"

"Well," I think about it for a brief second then I say simply, "I'm in. But I do have some requests though."

"Okay, I guess I can fit some of them in. What are your requests?"

"I want every face profile from my male life and make it as a dormant memory. Like I have seen them before, but I have never known them. Is that okay?" I request to the doctor.

"I think that's the easiest method in this procedure. That said, we should start right away. Change first and then meet me downstairs," the doctor says and then seconds after, he gets up off of his office chair and goes to the door to open it and exit the room. He courteously closes the door quietly and leaves me alone to myself. I look again at the I.D. card in my wallet and encourage myself to go through with this.

I go to the yellow suitcases sitting on the hardwood floor and try to find the main zipper which should open the main compartment of the case. I unzip it and find clean, well-maintained clothes of different designs, brands, and colors. The outfit on top catches my eye. The outfit consist of three garments, all having the colors of black and white. The first garment is a tanktop, but it isn't one that just covers. The tanktop is one that actually pushes up my breast and contours to my body. The reason why it grabbed my attention is because the famous Playboy bunny logo is on the front. The logo isn't a tiny white sport on the side but it is blown up like a photo turned into a poster.

The second garment is a pair of pants. It's not made of denim but of a soft and smooth fabric, like silk but more strong and more insulating. I think these pants are actually part of a loungewear outfit meaning that it's made for indoor lounging and hanging out inside a house. The pair of lounge pants have a thick white stripe going down from the waist to the flared end of the pant legs. The stripe is unique in how it branches out into three stripes as it near the bottom. What is also good about the pants is that it clings to the shape of my legs and ass, but still making sure that it keeps the heat trapped. The last eye-catching thing is that the waistband of the pants, which is a drawstring waist, features the title Playboy written in Olde English lettering. Like all products by Playboy, a garment is not a certified product until it has the little fluffy logo with two ear pointed straight upward.

The last garment is a sweater of sorts, with a hood attached to the collar, but the fabric is thin but as silky smooth as the pant fabric. Like the pants, the hoodie has a band close to the waist band which is fashion with the same Playboy letters in Olde English lettering. To add to the lettering, the wristbands of the sleeve are fashioned in the same way and an uppercase "P" in Olde English is emblazoned on the left chest area. Close to the "P" is the collar, which is a wide-V design, which travels back to form the hood. A small front compartment is shown to have thick white stripes to contour its shape and display the stitching. Lastly, like the pants, a thicker white stripe travels from the collar, across the shoulders, and down the sleeves.

I put the outfit on and exit the room minding to put on some slippers to battle the cold hardwood floor. I close the door behind me and walk towards the stairs. This time I don't have a delicious aroma leading me downstairs. Only the sound of equipment whirring and the constant noise of keys being typed are my clues. I get to the bottom and find that the noise get louder. I look to my left and see a bluish white light radiating from a room that has it's door ajar. Once I get to the doorframe, I see the contents of the room.

Along the part of the ceiling where it meets the wall, wires like snakes seem to run here and there, from ceiling to the floor. At the far side of the room, a hospital bed covered with pink sheets, that has motors under it to lift up the place where someone's upper body can be lifted, sits crowded by several stainless-steel modules either blinking a blue or green light. An overhead spotlight shines bluish-white light that is so bright that it travels from the far side of the room all the way to the door where I'm standing. Sitting in an expensive-looking office chair, Dr. Holden is at a computer typing away. I'm unsure if he's typing something legible or complicated code.

When I step into the room, the floor creaks and Dr. Holden is alerted of my presence in the room. He turns his head swiftly and I freeze in place as his eyes meet mine. In that moment, to my surprise, my heart kicks in speed and beats rapidly. So fast that I feel a little light-headed, grasping the doorframe with my left hand to keep myself from falling. My male mind doesn't react so well with the female body, so much that I'm distracted by my supporting myself. My eyes leave the gaze of Dr. Holden's and my vision darts to the floor, staring it down. I feel like I have a headache even though I didn't do anything that could've overworked or overpowered my body. My distracted mind wakes up to the sound of Dr. Holden's voice that is asking a question from his office chair.

"Are you ready? I have everything prepared. All you have to do is lay down on this bed," he says as he gets up from his chair and points to the pink-covered bed next to his desk. He sees my state of euphoria and offers to lead me to the bed. I'm unable to refuse due to my body feeling more numb than functional. He guides my female body to the bed and turns me around to have me sit down on the side. With the strength left in my body, I lay myself down on the bed rotating my body and lifting my legs above the plateau of the mattress. At last, I lay my head centered on a fluffy pillow and await further instructions from the doctor.

I feel like all the strength has escaped me and I'm unable to lift myself up from this mattress. I stop trying when I hear Dr. Holden's voice beside me but I can't turn my head to face him. "Are you ready?" he asks and after ten seconds of contemplating, I nod. Finally, Dr. Holden excitedly goes back to his console and flips a switch. A low whirring sound is heard, much like the sound of a computer's CPU rebooting.

I then see Dr. Holden going to the bed and reaching for something above my head, away from my sight. When the bed starts to lift my upper body, making it bed at my waist, I know that the doctor turned on the motors of the bed. But when the bed stops at 45 degrees, I don't see the doctor for more than two minutes. After the brief moment, the doctor reappears and has an apparatus in his hand.

Without my knowledge of the apparatus or it's function, the doctor places it on top of my head, hanging over the front side and stopping at my brow. I can feel that it's definitely made of a light metal, like aluminum, and is shapes in a bent oval. The doctor comes back and places two nodes on either side of my temple. The nodes stick to my skin and the wires attaches to each of them dangle down my sides. Again the doctor disappears and reappears, now having another piece of equipment in his hand. He has a familiar looking device, made of pure plastic with a plastic hose attached to it. The device is the piece of equipment put on patients to sedate them with a sleeping agent. He places the cup-like piece and wraps the bands around my head to secure it in place. Immediately the invisible gas makes my body limp and my eyelids heavy. I close my eyes and go into a deep sleep.