If you like my art, sketches, stories, transformations you can find more like this on my Patreon page or in DeviatArt Premium Early Access folder for subscribers here. Every bit of support is truly appreciated, but just having you here means the most to me - without you, none of this would have been possible. Thank you very much!
Check also my shop at DeviantArt for other works
— Shut your damn mouth, Jacob, and listen! — Arthur hissed, his voice going quieter, most likely because he pressed the phone right to his lips, trying to whisper. — I asked you to turn me into a woman. For a week. Not more! For… well, you know why. What the hell is this… improv?
— Improv? — Stein repeated, tensing. — I don’t get it. What’s going on there?
— Don’t joke like that! There’s some guy living in this apartment I was supposed to enter. And he’s sure I’m his girlfriend!
Stein straightened up, the playful look sliding off his face.
— Hold on, did you say “I’m his girlfriend”? Arthur, this is a witness protection program. There shouldn’t be any guys. Just a safe place where you can—
— Jacob, listen to me carefully! — Arthur cut him off, and now real panic bled through his voice. — He knows my name. He calls me “Monica,” not Samantha, and says we’ve been together for two years. He’s showing me photos where we… — Arthur fell silent for a moment, searching for words, — …where we’re together. And they look completely real! He has keys to this apartment! He’s not some psycho!
Stein frowned, quickly opening the temporary transformation program database on his tablet.
— Alright, let’s go step by step. Describe yourself. What do you see in the mirror? Give me your parameters.
Arthur let out a heavy sigh. A step echoed nearby, and he switched back to whispering.
— I… I… what do you mean? — he stumbled. — You need details? Tits, an ass, and my face but with skin smooth like a baby’s butt? Happy now?
Stein rubbed the bridge of his nose.
— Arthur, this is not the time for jokes. I need exact data. Height, weight, the parameters we discussed. Come on.
Silence hung on the line, then Arthur answered quietly:
— Height around one sixty. Boobs… — he stopped again, and Stein heard muffled muttering that sounded like a curse — they’re… huge. Why the hell did you make them that big? And that guy! You want me to fire your ass?
The professor already had the file open for the last “contract” — coded “Alta-7.” Height was supposed to be one seventy. Breast parameters — “moderate,” as they had agreed, for comfortable rest, not to look like a pornstar mascot.
— One sixty and huge boobs? — Stein repeated, his voice turning icy. — Arthur, that’s not what we agreed on. It was written down as one seventy and… you’re in Minneapolis, right?
— Minneapolis? — Arthur’s voice filled with panic again. — No! I’m in some godforsaken hole! Something like Pi… Pine Bluff, yeah! There’s a calendar on the wall, I checked. Arkansas! Don’t tell me I was supposed to be somewhere else!
Stein typed quickly, checking the coordinates. “Alta-7.” Minneapolis, Minnesota. Keys to an apartment with a lake view. “Samantha Johnson, 21, volunteer at the local zoo.” Not “Pine Bluff, Arkansas.”
In the background came the creak of floorboards and a man’s voice, gentle but insistent.
— Moni, sweetheart, the weather outside is so romantic. Maybe we should take a walk? I bought your favorite pastries.
Stein heard Arthur suck in a sharp breath.
— N-not now, honey, — he squeaked, clearly trying to play along. — I… I need to sort something out on the phone. With grandma.