I pinched my eyes shut from the pain as well as the glare from the bright lights of the medical bay. The technician insisted that he needed me awake for my procedures. He needed to see me change facial expressions as he worked, so I smiled, frowned, and even pouted until my lips felt like popping off my face to escape the torture.

The technician didn't help. His bedside manner sucked. It didn't matter that my eyes were closed. I could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke. "You don't do things in half measures, do you, Sam?"

He paused in his current treatment, giving me time to reply. "Not normally. But this time I made a serious New Year's resolution and I'm sticking to it."

"Okay. Now back to it. Try to keep very still for me. This might hurt a little."

More of his lies. It all hurt a lot, even with the topical anesthetic. My swollen lips stung and my smaller button nose throbbed, but the new bone sculpting treatments hurt the most. A dull ache ran from my cheek bones down to my chin, and the right side of my jaw felt like it was on fire as he worked on it. I wouldn't be eating solid food any time soon.

I whimpered from the heat of the medical instrument as it was moved over to run along my left jawline, changing it from its current square, masculine form to complete a feminine, oval face.

With my eyes still shut, the technician finished my facial treatments and I heard him sigh. "Okay. You can open your eyes now. I'm done with your face. It turned out beautifully. Perfectly."

I gently shook my head, afraid to open my mouth to speak. Every square inch of my face hurt. But I did slowly open my eyes to see him smiling down at me in my reclining chair.

He cocked his head before a glint of understanding shone in his eyes. "Yes, I know. I might be biased. You did give me carte blanche, after all."

True. I'd had no clue how I wanted to look. I'd only known that I was tired of seeing my rugged male reflection in the mirror. I'd left it up to the technician to make me beautiful, and judging by his dilated pupils, he'd done an excellent job.

I'd had my unwanted facial hair removed by laser and electrolysis the year before last. It was the first time I'd followed through on a New Year's resolution. Then I'd easily topped that one by resolving to transition this year, and I was well on my way.

With my face done, the technician prepared to put me under for a long period of serious body sculpting that started by breaking down my bones to give me a smaller frame. Even my hands and feet would be small and slender when I woke up.

As part of their medical magic, the doctors and technicians kept swelling and bruising to a bare minimum, though I suddenly imagined what might happen if they didn't. I saw myself bloating into a huge sphere and having to be rolled out of the recovery room like a girl from some movie that I vaguely remembered from my youth. The girl inflated into a giant blueberry after chewing some weird gum and had to be rolled away to be juiced or something.

I shook my head again and moaned.

The technician clucked his tongue. "Take it easy, Sam. You'll be fine. Better than fine by the time we're through with you."

A doctor who I hadn't noticed until that moment injected something into my arm, and his baritone voice soothed my nerves. "Now count backward from a hundred."

Or maybe it was the drug that soothed me. Whatever. I closed my eyes and counted down to ninety-three before falling down a pitch-black, bottomless rabbit hole.

I didn't remember any dreams, and the first thing I saw when I woke up was the technician's face, staring down at me in the recovery room.

I had to stare back at him because virtually every surface in the brightly lit room had been painted or colored white. My eyes seemed overly sensitive to the light so I focused on his relatively dark, Caucasian face, and I tested my new voice. I didn't feel any pain and I couldn't wait to hear myself speak.

"Hey there, sailor. What's your name?" I was still a little loopy from the drug they gave me.

The man laughed. "Famous first words. And please forgive me, Sam. You gave me your name but I didn't give you mine. I'm Steve."

After taking a short moment to appreciate my new voice, my loopy behavior stubbornly continued. "Yesh! Nice to meet you, Steve. And please do continue to call me Sam. It's short for Samantha now." I paused again. "Right? Isn't it? Am I done? Are you through yet?"

I didn't quite get another laugh out of him, but his eyes sparkled and he continued smiling. He had a nice smile.

"Yeah, Sam. I'm done. You're done. We're all done here." He held out his hand. "Now how about taking a little walk with me? We need to get you walking as soon as possible."

I experimented a little first by wriggling my fingers and toes. They all worked, though they didn't feel any smaller. I decided to examine my hands later, but as I slowly swung my legs out from under the sheet that covered me, I stared at my bare feet and gasped. They looked tiny.

"What did you do to my feet?"

He looked a little confused but he answered quickly. "Uh. What you told me to do. Make them smaller. They're a women's size seven."

"Wow. I didn't know you could make them that much smaller. No idea."

"Well, yes. Didn't you read any of our brochures?"

From my glare, he correctly deduced that I hadn't.

"Okay. So I'm also guessing that you didn't know we could make you seven inches shorter and reduce your weight accordingly."

I gasped. "Seven inches shorter. Size seven feet. You got a seven fetish or something?"

"What? No. It just turned out that way. Come on."

"Yesh! So how much did you reduce my weight? Seven pounds?"

"A bit more than that. Quite a bit more."

"What did you do with all of that extra... me?"

He turned away. "You don't want to know."

I reached out and lightly touched his arm. "Sure I do."

He turned back to me and offered his hand again. "No. You don't. Now enough chitchat. Time to walk. Please."

I took his hand and slid down the side of the bed until my bare feet slapped the cold, tiled floor. So far, so good, with only minimal body aches. Excellent pain meds. Yesh.

I stood easily enough, and I noticed that I wore a white cloth gown that completely covered my backside. That was nice. The only bad thing was when I turned to face Steve. I had to tip my head back a great deal to look up at his face.

His much greater height intimidated me a little and I started trembling. "I honestly thought I'd only be a couple of inches shorter. I'm so short now."

He didn't seem to understand my growing distress. "You're average height for a woman in the U.S. You're not short."

"Much shorter than you, and much shorter than I used to be. I'm practically subterranean. Soon I'll be running with moles."

He laughed again. He had a nice laugh. "Come on. Enough jokes. Are you ready to take your first steps?"

"I'm ready to crawl back into bed and grow a little." I looked down at my tiny feet. "Please."

"Hey. Are you cold? You're trembling."

"Nice of you to notice. But I'm not cold. I'm just a little, you know, apprehensive."

"About what? You're a woman now. Or woman enough, at least. You don't have the sex chromosomes, and you can't bear children, but you're definitely a woman. I thought you'd be happy. Ecstatic even."

He started getting to me then, in a very bad way. Are all men so clueless? "I'll be happy enough later, after I get used to my new body. But right now, I'm not used to my new body." I started getting angry, and my surges of fear and anger helped clear my head. "Right now, I'm much smaller and weaker, and I'm alone with a tall, strong man who I barely know and who wants to hold my hand. Please forgive me if I'm a little nervous."

I sat down on the edge of the bed and stared straight ahead at the wall, trying very hard not to cry. I should've read the company brochures. I'm sure they would've told me how short the doctors could make me.

My new height really bothered me and my anger roared back, most of it directed at myself. I should've taken some interest in my new body. I should've at least set some limits. But, no. I wanted my appearance to be somewhat random, making it more like I was truly born as a woman.

Steve sighed. "The doctors said you might have trouble adjusting to the estrogen pump. They said they might have to tweak the dosage. Would you like me to get a doctor to check on you?"

"No, I don't need anyone else, thank you. I just want to slow down a little and have some time to adjust."

He moved to grab a chair and pull it over near the bed, but before he sat down, he picked up a cup from the bedside table. "Would you like a little water?"

"Yes, please. That would be nice." I took the cup from him and sipped water through a straw. It helped calm me down a little. So did Steve when he sat in the low chair. He was much shorter that way and I could look at him without trembling.

After handing back the cup to him, he started to get up to reach the table and I half shouted at him. "Wait. Don't get up. Please. I want you closer to eye level for the time being. Just please give me a little time to get used to my new self."

We chatted for a short while, talking about the weather, current events, favorite movies, and whatever else popped into my head. As we talked, I started gesturing with my hands more and more, and I soon noticed a disturbing new sensation. It made me look down at myself and frown.

Steve noticed that much at least. "What's wrong? Is there something you don't like about your new body?"

"Well." I hefted my breasts that I'd somehow been able to ignore until that moment. I helped them push out the front of my gown even farther, making their large size very obvious. "I'm a little top-heavy."

"Oh. I wasn't sure how big to make them so I erred on the side of larger, I guess. I thought you might want them larger to compensate for having a male body for so long."

I sighed, still holding my breasts and cringing at their weight. "That's a bit of a short-term view, don't you think? I have to work out with this body and aerobic exercise is going to be a bit challenging now."

His eyes glazed over, making me think he was fantasizing about seeing me jumping rope. I gave up on complaining about it and cleared my throat. That snapped him out of his little daydream so he could focus on speaking again. "You can always have them reduced." He looked serious but I could tell by his eyes that he didn't like the idea.

"I'm not having any more treatments. I've had more than enough pain for one lifetime." That and my bank account was tapped. I couldn't afford to have any more work done. Besides, where would it end? I could see myself tweaking my body for the rest of my life once I got started. I knew better.

He slowly nodded as I spoke, and when I finally let my breasts drop, his eyes snapped to them.

"Like what you see, Steve?" I laced my words with sarcasm, but he didn't seem to notice.

"They're perfect."

It took some vigorous finger-snapping in front of his face to get him back to planet Earth so we could continue our conversation. We chatted for another thirty minutes according to the big analog clock on the wall, and that was enough time for me to move to the next level.

I asked Steve to remain seated while I explored the room, starting by walking around my bed. I kept close so I could fall onto it if necessary, but there was nothing to worry about. I soon expanded my route and lost myself in the sway of my feminine hips.

Walking came easily, but when I entered the bathroom, my reflection in the big mirror over the sink ambushed me. I looked like a cross between a younger version of my mother and a fairy tale princess. I spent half the time making various faces, and it took an air kiss to finally get me to stop. Since my appearance was so new to myself, I imagined kissing the woman in the mirror and blushed. My sexual preference hasn't changed. Interesting.

When I came back into the main room, I found Steve watching me closely, and I noticed that his interest didn't seem to be overtly sexual. I gave him a few brownie points for that. I even smiled at him. "You guys do great work here. I'm having no trouble walking."

Steve smiled. "Thanks. Does that mean I can get up?"

"I don't know. I kind of like you short and under my control."

He smirked. "Maybe you'd like me to crawl on my hands and knees?"

"I'll save that option for later. Thanks. So I think you can stand. But no handholding. I'm a big girl now." I laughed at my choice of words and looked down at my chest. "In some places at least."

He stood up and I was okay. Everything was okay. I'd talked to him long enough that I felt I could trust him.

We walked the halls of the building and eventually went to find something for me to wear. After my body work, I thought my men's clothes would still fit well enough that I could wear them home, but my much smaller size made that impractical.

I changed clothes in a convenient janitor closet, and after going out to my car and adjusting the seat for my new body, I sat for a while, trying to decide on a destination. It didn't take long.

The only outfit I had that fit me was the one I was wearing, and that was borrowed. I had some serious clothes shopping in my near future and I couldn't wait to get started. My credit card could use a good workout.

Oh, my God! The mall was majestic, like a Gothic cathedral stuffed full of pirate treasure. Everything seemed so much larger from my shorter perspective, and I was having such a wonderfully pure, feminine experience. Even leering men couldn't dampen my enthusiasm. But my excitement was short-lived.

Thanks to the wisdom of the female technician who lent me my current outfit, I did think to pace myself. I'd just had major body work done and Debbie insisted that I take it slow and easy. I had the rest of my life to fill all of the closets in my apartment.

No, I wasn't surprised when I soon got tired. What surprised me was how difficult it was carrying my handbag and all of my goodies. This has to be an ultra rare occurrence, like a solar eclipse or something. Shopping should never be a chore. Gah!

The huge quantity of clothes that I needed prevented me from completely enjoying my shopping trip, and I had to remind myself of something very important to keep me going. I knew that in the future, I'd be able to let myself loose for hunting that single perfect outfit to wear at a special event. And I'd be able to casually browse and window shop, looking for something cute and inexpensive to possibly follow me home.

Just after I forced myself to buy one last thing in a department store, I noticed Steve, my face sculpting technician, standing in the hall just outside the nearest entrance. He was giving me the same appraising look that he'd given me in the recovery room, but this time it bothered me. Seriously? Is he stalking me?

I slipped my newly bought perfume into a bag and marched out of the store to confront him, but he quickly held up his hands and shook his head in a very disarming way. He also spoke very quickly to make sure there was no misunderstanding. "Blame Debbie. She slapped my arm and told me to come and help you. But I had no idea how so I've just been following behind you. Sorry."

I gave him an evil smile and handed over all of my shopping bags. "Don't be sorry. You're just in time to help carry my loot. I'll have to remember to thank Debbie when I return her clothes."

"Debbie? What about me? Even pack mules should get a treat for a job well done, shouldn't they?"

"Oh, yeah. Maybe I should stop by a pet store and get you some treats." I paused, smirking. "Do you think you could catch one in your mouth if I tossed it to you? I'd always thought it was cute when Cuddles, my family dog, did that."

"Cuddles? Seriously?"

"Hey. She was great. I loved that little mutt."

His face suddenly turned serious. "So I take it she's gone now."

I nodded. "Yeah. But it's okay. That was a lifetime ago."

"In a galaxy far, far away."

I could tell he was joking since it was a movie quote, but his face gave nothing away. It made me remember his pleasant laugh so I thought I'd continue with some humor of my own. "Are all techies sci-fi nerds? Or is that an unfair stereotype?"

That got a laugh out of him.

He followed me to my car and loaded up the trunk, sending me home with a smile and a wave. It got me thinking that I wouldn't mind seeing more of him in the near future. I thought he might make a good friend.

I got home and unloaded my trunk before grabbing a snack and a tall glass of water. My marathon shopping trip had worked up a big appetite and thirst.

Then the fun began.

I dumped my shopping bags on the bed in the spare bedroom and gleefully bagged up all of my men's clothes for donation to make room for my loot. But I was disappointed after I'd finished folding and hanging up my new outfits. I still had room for zillions of more clothes. My closets and dressers weren't even close to half full.

"Oh, well." I often talked to myself when I was home alone. My family and close relatives had scattered themselves across the country so I rarely saw them except in video chat. And I hadn't made any close friends since I'd moved to be closer to my new job. I got a bit lonely.

"And that reminds me. I need to show off a little."

More fun ensued as I started a marathon video chat session to show everyone the new me. Except for my mother, I limited everyone to my face and voice. For Mom, I had to stand and twirl, even though I wasn't wearing a skirt.

There were gasps, and screams, and cheers. I got nothing but good reactions. But that was only because I knew who to call. I knew who supported and accepted my true self, and the encouragement felt nice.

My new life started out very well. I was quite pleased. Then the need for more shopping money reminded me of my job and I suddenly wasn't so pleased.

Going back to work proved a little challenging. The men accepted me with open arms, though I could tell many of them thought of me more as eye candy than a colleague. I didn't much like that, but the biggest hurdle was my female coworkers. Most of them looked green with envy, and their sneering took its toll. It took several chat sessions in the break room before I could get on their good side.

I'd first ask them to think of me as a trailblazer, and that got them curious. I'd then explain how well my body sculpting treatments worked and quietly tell them that if they had any serious issues with body image, I'd help them get a free consultation at the clinic where I had my work done.

Some of the women had felt a little insulted at first, and I had to quickly explain that I didn't mean that any of them needed improvement. I'd just meant that bodies weren't perfect and could sometimes use a little help. Someone might have a large, easily visible birthmark that embarrassed them or even made it difficult to find work. Hiring managers might discriminate against them, thinking it was a strange tattoo. That had got several of them to think, and they'd slowly come to accept me. My job got better after that.

The body sculpting clinic recommended a series of followup visits to check on me over the coming few months. They worried that some of my extensive changes might be unstable. With the promise of keeping costs low, I accepted.

Not surprisingly, I saw Steve again for my first checkup. I ended up in a small white room with an examination table, where I encountered him along with a female assistant.

The young woman never gave me her name. She just went right to work, taking several of my measurements with a cloth tape measure and using a computer tablet to record the values. She was fast and efficient, and she disappeared after she finished, leaving me alone with Steve.

All throughout the measuring, he stood against the wall and behaved in a professional manner, maybe too professional. I didn't like his appraising stare. He didn't leer, but he somehow made me feel like prey. Once again, his bedside manner sucked.

I cocked my head. "And what's your role today? Are you just going to stand there and look at me?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah. Sure. I'm just giving you a visual inspection, looking for any obvious instabilities. You know. Like that."

I nodded. "Like that. Sure. So then. Are you through yet? Can I go now?"

He frowned and then slowly nodded. "I guess. I mean, I don't see any issues."

"Issues. You have such a way with words." I couldn't help teasing him. There was just something about him that made me like him. I suddenly remembered that I'd wanted to make friends and I smiled to make sure he knew I wasn't really upset with him.

He gave me a faint smile in return as I brushed by him to leave the room. "Maybe see you next time?"

"Sure. Bye."

He closed the door behind me and stayed in the room.

I lingered a short time then. I thought he'd want to follow me out of the building. But as I gave up on that and turned to leave, I heard a muffled thump followed by Steve calling himself an idiot.

I giggled and left.

On my fourth followup visit to the clinic, the doctors did finally notice an issue. I needed a minor spinal adjustment. They applied a topical anesthetic and it didn't take them long to fix the issue.

Steve wasn't part of the team who worked on my spine. That wasn't his area of expertise. But after I dressed and left the treatment room, I found him standing and leaning back against a wall, apparently waiting for me. Except he didn't say anything so I filled in the silence.

"Hello again. Miss me?"

He looked away, blushing. "Sure. I guess." He peeked back at me after an epic deep breath. "Are you okay now then? Just checking."

I smiled. "Sure. Just professional courtesy, right?"

"Exactly. Exactly that." He then lapsed into an awkward silence that had me wondering about his state of mind.

"So. Nothing else to say? Nothing else to measure or visually inspect?"

"No, I'm good. You're good. We're all good." He sputtered out a nervous laugh.

I shrugged and left as I started to worry, about both him and myself. Our behavior reminded me of lovesick teenagers. How stupid is that?

What concerned me the most was my growing interest in Steve. I found myself developing a physical attraction to him in spite of his unrefined bedside manner. I didn't think one's sexual preference could change, but either I was wrong or I'd been a closet bisexual.

Women definitely still appealed to me. I occasionally found myself staring at various feminine assets during my frequent shopping trips. I hadn't been drooling over any men so far, but Steve definitely caught my eye. I'd have to think about it more, perhaps after a little more shopping.

On my seventh and last followup visit to the clinic for a checkup, I'd hoped to avoid Steve. By that time, I resolved to focus on women. My attraction to them didn't confuse me. But the universe was against me.

"Hi, Steve."

"Hey there, Sam. Fancy meeting you again."

"Yeah. About that. Doesn't this place have any other technicians?" I paused when he frowned. "Hey. I'm not unhappy with your work. I'm just curious. Debbie wasn't fired, was she?"

"Well, Debbie was actually scheduled to see you today, but she slapped my arm and made me swap clients with her for some reason. I didn't question her."

It was my turn to frown. I had no doubt that Debbie was trying to get us together. I'm sure she meant well, but I wasn't happy about it.

I knew the clinic well enough that I walked ahead of Steve to the usual room and hopped up to sit on the examination table. I turned to see him looking conflicted, but I shrugged it off and waited for the nameless woman assistant to measure me. She'd appeared from behind Steve and breezed through the measurements in record time before once again leaving me alone with him.

My shorts and T-shirt made it easier for him to check me out. I wanted a quick and easy visit so I could leave. I'd leave him and the clinic behind and move forward to my perfectly feminine future. I just had to escape another of Steve's conflicted looks and I'd be free.

When he didn't speak for five long minutes that I counted off on the large analog clock on the wall, I started what I expected to be our last conversation. "What, Steve? What is it? Did you want to say something? Or can I go now?"

He looked down and sighed. "I might never see you again after today. Sorry if I'm a little sad."

"You're sad, huh? I'm sorry about that."

"Thanks. It can get a bit lonely in the tech world. Us techs aren't the most sought after bunch."

I sighed. "Why don't you ask Debbie for a date? She seems nice."

"She's married."

"Oh. Shame about that. Oh, well. I need to get going now." I hadn't noticed any rings on Debbie's fingers, but it made sense not to wear them while she worked.

"Wait. Please."

"I need to go, Steve. It's time for me to leave."

"Okay, but not before I get something off my chest."

"Oh? You mean about wanting to ask me out on a date?"

He gasped and then slowly nodded. "Can you blame me for being attracted to you? You didn't give me any idea about what you wanted. You just said to make you beautiful, so I did. And I did it by using my own standards. I honestly didn't think about turning you into my own personal sex doll. That'd be creepy."

"Yes. You're right. I did let you decide on everything."

"Yeah. So maybe take responsibility."

"That's going a little far, don't you think?"

He huffed. "I was only kidding."

I raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

"Okay. Half kidding. But since I unwittingly created my dream girl, maybe consider going out on a date with me? Please?"

There. He finally asked and I thought I was ready for it. I thought I could say no and leave him behind. But as he pleaded with his big, brown eyes, my heart melted.

After our third date, he took me home and his amazingly strong hands shredded my panties in his eagerness to help me out of them. But that was okay. I had more, and I had him.

His caresses sent my heart rate into the danger zone and he made my body hum with passion. I was more than ready to lose my virginity.

He made sure I approved of everything he did and stopped immediately when I showed any signs of feeling pain. His occasional suggestions for improving some of our bedroom play sounded a little clinical, but he made up for his imperfect romance skills with enthusiasm. He also learned quickly and learned well.

I finally accepted my sexuality and my new boyfriend, and after sleeping with Steve a few times, I even changed my mind about his bedside manner. I had absolutely no complaints. My life was perfect.