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Samson was not what one would call a team player. A titan amongst ordinary men, the construction worker had earned himself a reputation amongst his colleagues as something of an unlikeable jerk when an ironclad belief in working hard had interfered in their ability to get work done on time. All because Samson would refuse any other alternative even if it meant the overall process would go along far smoother and quicker. And against a man his size and temperament, who was going to tell him otherwise?
But wherever there was a will, a way would ultimately be found. And for Samson’s fellow co-workers; the solution came in the form of an experimental pharmaceutical product that had somehow made its way onto the black market, an illicit practice almost all the workers there had their toes dipped in considering how out of the way the site was. Making it an excellent spot for deals and meetings of a shadowy nature, and it was one such deal that had given the troubled men their saving grace. According to the thug, this metaphorical silver bullet of theirs was best taken in small doses for what they were planning; revenge against Samson and to teach him a lesson. Large amounts would’ve broken the gig and the side effects of doing so could very well be lethal, so the stealthy approach was the only way open to them. And with the crew’s catering company also in cahoots thanks to the many times Samson had berated them for serving what he saw as ‘shit food for low-life scum’, the method of delivering the payload was swiftly settled.
Consumed by a slow-burning air of excitement, the crew would begin to eye Samson with giddy anticipation in the following days after lunch. Eager to see the effects of this wonder drug first hand after the brute had finished his meal with a less than satisfied look on his face. And although it really was an agonizingly slow wait as they had been warned about, slowly but surely, the drug would soon begin to show its mark on Samson. Beginning with a noticeable drop in stamina and endurance that saw the man taking more frequent breaks while doing less altogether. Reaching a point altogether where the rest of the crew could begin to use machinery and other modern implements to do their job without being harassed by the haggard brute who had become too lethargic to do anything about them intruding upon his beliefs so openly. And in his arrogance, skipping a day or calling upon those imbeciles for help was out of the question.
So day after day would fly the crew by, and with each serving of drugged food circulating throughout Samson’s system. A decrease in physical performance would be the least of his worries when his overall appearance would begin to be affected by the drug, with a major loss of muscle mass and overall size being notable factors among others…like a startling reduction in masculinity.
By the time a period of two months had almost come to pass, Samson had quite literally become a shadow of his former self. Looking less like the herculean, muscle brained oaf everyone knew him as and more like an out of place, angsty tomboy working alongside the construction workers who now dwarfed Samson easily. Standing at least a head or two higher than the deflated man who once dominated them. Although the masculine form of address seemed highly inappropriate now, not when Samson…or the woman he was evidently becoming, had begun to show through the cracks. Giving all involved more than they had bargained for when the makings of an attractive if still arrogant lady had begun to take root in the middle of a dusty old construction site. A place where the slightest of distractions could cause an accident. And when his mind had begun to falter against the daily intake of the mystery drug, said distractions would only grow more severe when Samson’s arrogance, working in tandem with the alien microbes flooding his system, would dull his sense of awareness while landing a major hit to an intelligence base comparable to that of an adolescent youth. Resulting in a great many happenings that left the men questioning their sexual orientation with a few others planning ’next steps’ to take regarding Samson…
Because if it weren’t for the perpetual protrusion of a pathetic erection against incredibly baggy pants concealing the fine, lanky legs of a sleek goddess. Anyone could easily mistake Samson for a woman. Especially when ‘he’ now sported a pair of fine, petite breasts, the functionality of which had been proven when an accidental brush of the shoulders one fine day had caused the easily aroused wench to lactate. Squirting aromatic fluid no man should be able to produce from swollen nipples barely hidden behind a loose singlet right then and there with a titillating vocalization to boot that had the men close enough to hear it tingling from head to toe. A high-pitched moan lost to an addled Samson whose incredible ego could not allow him to break from all the stimuli wrought by an unexpected reaction from the drug. Leaving the shemale in a constant state of arousal from how sensitive his skin had become. And now that his mannerisms were next in line with vulgar and provocative changes, his co-workers were arguably more excited to see what awaited them when the drug was finally used up. And with rumors of the boys catching glimpses of a ‘tight ass butt’ ,the beginnings of ‘a taint’ in the changing rooms and how he had started to wear a new head of blonde hair into an attractive bun. The urge to just empty what little remained in that blessed bottle of theirs became that much harder to contain, alongside bets as to who would have first dibs once Samson was ready…
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