Being the Guinea Pig

by Woodford

 

I was 19 and everything about me screamed typical frat guy. I was cocky, and rightfully so. I was fit, worked out all time, and was known for my good looks. I was partying 4-5 nights a week with some of the most gorgeous girls you can imagine and pulling some of the best tail half the time I went out. Life was pretty good, and academics seem to be on anything but my mind. That's what got me into this mess…

It was spring quarter of my sophomore year and I was, as usual, looking for the most bullshit easy classes I could find so that I could just coast through life like I had always done. Maybe I could take a class on the history of Rock and Roll, or maybe that history of samurai's class that a friend had suggested, there were a lot of choices. In the end, I went with the one that started at 4 PM, so as not to mess up my late night schedule. It was Sociology 162a, Human Sexuality. I heard that it was easy and even at times entertaining, as it was taught by this moderately attractive but aging 50 year old woman who was a complete nympho and not the least bit ashamed of it. Apparently she had done some ground breaking research on the sexuality and genes. She had won a Nobel Prize for it in fact, and for this reason it was one of the most popular classes at school.

The quarter started off as usual, tons of partying, drugs on occasion, and all the girls a guy would want. I never went to class, and why should I? I'd just do what I always do, get some airhead sorority girl to just give me the notes to all my classes and then just cram the night before a midterm and maybe pull of a few Bs.

So this is where it all went wrong. It was a sunny Tuesday, early in the afternoon and I had just rolled out of bed to check my emails and do the facebook thing. The first email I received didn't seem that unusual. It was an email from my TA for Human Sexuality, so I opened it thinking it would be about maybe some extra credit or something like that. The email read:

 

To: John2347@aol.com

From: MikeMcd@USC.Sociology.edu

Subject: No Subject

Date: Monday April 11, 2006. 9:27 PM

 

Hey Guys,

Just a reminder that you all need to bring a green scantron to the midterm tomorrow. Good luck!

 

-Mike

 

I couldn't believe it, my jaw just dropped. "FUCK!" I yelled at the computer. I was so screwed, I hadn't been to a single lecture or read one page of the damn text book, there was no way I was going to pass this exam. I frantically trying to figure out what I was going to do, I was really freaking out. I paced back in forth in my room and finally decided that I would just call someone up, get their notes, and just stick them under my back pack during the test and cheat.

The first person I thought to call up was Michelle, some girl I knew from freshman year in the dorms who had always been really nice to me and given me notes before. "Hey, Michelle, what's up?" I said with a shit eating grin on my face as if I was calling just to see how she was doing. After a few minutes of BS small talk and buttering her up by pretending to be interested in how she just got a new car and all the shopping she had been doing lately, I asked her if I could borrow her notes on she had from when she took the class last quarter. She said yes, and with only 20 minutes left until the exam was to start, I raced over to her house, picked up the notes, and just barely made it to class in time.

I sat down in the middle of the row; put the notes on the ground and my back pack on top of them. As the test was being handed out, my heart started racing. I wasn't much of a cheater, primarily because I knew how serious the consequences were if I was ever caught. My life would be ruined if I was expelled.

I received my copy of the test and sat and stared at it nervously for about a minute, glancing over the questions and realizing I couldn't answer a single one. So slowly, I pushed my backpack off the notes with my foot just so that I could barely read them. The first question was about fetishes, and what causes people to develop disorders like necrophilia. A pretty disgusting thing to imagine, but hey, at least I had the answer right in front of me and knew I was gonna get the question right.

I was cruising through this test. I was half done and was probably on my way to an A, when all of the sudden I looked up and right in front of my was one of the TAs looking right at my feet where the notes were.

"Excuse me, what do you think you are doing?" He said with an angry look on his face.

I was so nervous I could cry.

"Ugh, um, O I didn't even notice those notes, I'm sorry." I stuttered badly.

"Yeah, right, get up right now." He said.

I stood up, with the entire class looking at me. I could here their whispers.

"You need to leave right now, and I'm going to have to report you to Professor Anderson you know. I didn't say anything back to him, I knew I was screwed, so I walked out of the class with my head down to avoid making eye contact with anyone else in the room.

I got back to my room and just sat down and stared at the wall for what seemed like hours. All these thoughts rushing through my head. Was I going to be expelled? Will I even graduate from any college now? Will I ever get a job? I was so stressed out, and humiliated. Jack, my room mate and best friend walked in.

"Dude, someone said you got kicked outta class today for cheating on a test, what happened?"

"I dunno, I'm so fucked, I might get expelled I think" I said.

"Damn, well maybe not, maybe your teacher will just fail you or something instead."

I didn't say anything back. He knew I was bummed, so he just walked back out of the room and shut the door, leaving me to think.

I didn't go out that night. I just sat alone all night thinking and trying to watch TV to help calm me down. I slept restlessly that night, thinking about the consequences of what I had done.

I woke up the next morning to check my emails. I had only 1 new message, and my instantly I knew who it was from:

 

 

 

To: John2347@aol.com

From: J.Anderson@USC.Sociology.edu

Subject: Yesterday's Exam

Date: Wednesday April 12, 2006. 7:59 AM.

 

Mr. Schmidt,

It has come to my attention that yesterday afternoon one of the TAs for my Sociology 162 class caught you cheating on the exam. This is a very serious Johner, for which there will be very serious consequences. I suggest that you stop by my office immediately to discuss what happens next.

 

-Dr. Laura Anderson

 

I was terrified but also in some ways relieved. At least it seemed to me that he had reported me to the Dean yet, so perhaps there was some sort of compromise that he had in mind. I left right away to go to his office, not wanting to anger him more by making him wait.

I walked into the office at the Sociology building, near the medical school. It was an impressive building, very high tech and one of the newest on campus. I told the secretary my name and that I was supposed to see the professor. She told me to take a seat and that he would be available shortly. After about 5 minutes she told me to go into this office. I opened the door and sitting behind the large desk I saw her, staring at me condescendingly with her hands on the desk and fingers crossed so tightly here knuckles were white. She was clearly pissed. I took a seat with out asking and she just continued to stare at me, letting her glances burn holes into my head for about 10 seconds.

"Mr. Schmidt, I'm extremely disappointed in you" Dr. Anderson said. "I hope you realize that people typically are expelled from the university for such dishonestly, and that I should not hesitate for one second to report you to the dean."

"Yes ma'am" was the only dejected response I could muster up.

"But, I am going to be generous here and offer you and alternative to expulsion."

My face lit up with relief as I realized I had a chance to get out of this.

"I'm starting a new research project, and I need a male test subject. The project will last a year and will require that you invest approximately 5 hours a week of your time. You will be paid $1000 a week plus any expenses you may incur as a result of the experiment."

Wow, I couldn't believe this, she was offering me $1000 a week for only 5 hours of work? It seemed insane but I had to accept.

"OK" I replied, "What exactly do I have to do?"

"Well, the point of the experiment is to determine what the correlation is between a persons physical appearance and there sexual preferences as well as self esteem. Tomorrow I'll need to report to this address at 9 AM and I'll explain in greater detail what we'll be doing." She handed me a business card with an address written on it.

I still didn't really know what I was going to have to do, but it didn't sound like it would be that bad. And it wasn't like I really had a choice or anything.

I showed up the next morning at the address she had given me. I was a small two story building the said it was some sort of clinic with Dr. Anderson listed at the doctor on the sign in front of it. I walked into the building and went to the waiting room. The room was small and empty with a fairy attractive young receptionist that the desk. I told her who I was and she gave me a friendly smile and said that the doctor was in the other room waiting for me.

She led me down a hall and into a room that looked like and examination room. There was a bed with several spot light above it as well as also sorts of medical gadgetry around. In the room was Dr. Anderson and another woman that I had not met before, both of which were holding clip boards and wearing lab coats.

"Ah, Mr. Schmidt, I'm glad you decided to show up. I'm very excited to begin our project. This is Dr. Adams, she's going to be helping us along with the medical aspects of the project." Dr. Anderson introduced us. The new doctor seemed friendly.

"Ok, so I bet your wondering what it is exactly that we'll be doing over the next year. Essentially what we will be doing is temporarily transforming your body through the implantation of fat into certain parts of your body to give it a more curvy, feminine shape. That process will take about six weeks to fully change you. After your physically changed, we will be monitoring certain psychological factors to determine if the changes in your body have any effects on your personality or mind."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. A more feminine shape? What the hell was she talking about. There was no way I was going to do this.

"Of course, if you decide to not participate, I will be forced to report you to the dean, and I think we both no the consequence of that." She added.

I was trapped. I had no choice.

"OK, I guess I have to do it huh. Are there any sort of rules or anything that I have to follow during this project?"

"No, you can do and wear whatever you want. All you have to do is come once a week for a five hour assessment with me and Dr. Adams. You can decide for yourself whether or not you want people to know about the experiment. Also, when we present the results of our project, it will be completely anonymous, so no one will know you identity."

"We'd like to start today." Dr. Adams added. "The changes we will be doing are somewhat simple. We will be injecting synthetic fat into you hips, thighs, buttocks, calves and chest once weekly for the next six weeks. It a safe process, although you may feel sore for a few hours each day afterwards. Also, to help reduce you muscle mass, you'll receive a once weekly injecting of a steroid that will reduce you muscle while simultaneously increasing your body fat. Your hormones themselves will not be effected, only your body, and its all reversible."

I agreed to do it and told her that I understand what they were saying. The two doctors told me to strip down to my underwear and to lie face down on the bed. At first they injected me with an anesthetic so that I wouldn't feel pain. Then they began the series of injections all over my body. They started at my calves and worked their way up to my butt. It was a very odd feeling as I could literally feel my butt expanding as well as my hips. Then, they had me flip over onto my back and inserted that fat into my chest. Both my breasts instantly grew. They said they were only a small B cup a the time. When I sat up, however, they felt huge, and the jiggling and sagging made me feel even more awkward, and surprisingly I felt very self conscious in front of the two female doctors.

They told me that was all for the day and that I should return the same time next week. They left me alone in the room to get dressed and leave. I put my boxers back on and instantly felt the changes to my body. The boxers were riding up big time on my bigger butt and were pulled really tight around my hips. I looked in the mirror and couldn't help but blush. I turned sideways to get a better look at my butt. It was definitely bigger. I pulled my jeans up and get them to slide over my new hips with a little bit of difficulty.

I walked out the room and back into the waiting room. I could tell I was walking strangely, as my hips really didn't fit very well into my pants any more. The receptionist said bye and I could tell she was starting at my lower half, she knew what was going on.

The next week went by without much event. I just had to wear bagging jeans and wore a jacket everyday to hide the small breasts that now hung on my chest. I returned to the doctors office again the next week, and again they inserted even more fat into my body and chest.

This time, it really did bother me. My ass felt huge, and this was only the second of six sessions that I was supposed to do! I couldn't even get myself to squeeze my ass into my jeans any more, there was no way. And my breasts were even bigger, but the jacket hid them pretty well. I went home that night and had to dig through my closet for almost an hour before I found something that could fit. It was an old pair of sweat pants that I had probably never worn. None of my boxers fit, and I didn't know what I was going to do or wear. I decided I needed to do some shopping.

I was walking out the door and heading for my car when I ran into a girl named Sarah that I used to fool around with every once in a while. She was a real blonde bombshell and was in terrific shape.

"Hey John, how have you been! I haven't seen you in a while." She said.

In fact, I hadn't seen anyone other than my roommate since I started the experiment.

"Yeah, I've just been really busy lately, just lots of work and stuff."

"Work? That's not that John that I know!" She said. Then she leaned in real close with a dirty look in here eye and whispered in my ear, "You know John, whenever you wanna fuck, just give me a call." I was used to this kind of talk, but then what startled me the most was something that normally I would have loved. She gave me a little wink and then pinched my ass. My big, fat, soft ass. Not the hard toned ass that I'm sure she remembered I freaked out. I felt so self confident, and she gave it a good grab to, really pinched it. She gave me a strange look right after, then just said bye and walked away. I was so ashamed, and even more self conscious as I felt my wide hips sway as I walked to my car.

I didn't know where to go to buy clothes, but I knew I had to go somewhere that no one would see me. There was a shopping mall a couple miles away with a Sears at it, so I figured I could at least get some cheap clothes there. I walked into the store and immediately took a left towards the men's department, still in denial about my predicament. I picked up a baggy pair of jeans and some extra large boxers and took them to the changing room. First, I put the boxers on. They were so tight it was painful, they rode up so hard on my butt and were pulled in so hard on my crotch, there was no way this could work. So it took them off and threw them on the ground with frustration. Next was the jeans. I couldn't even get them over my hips, this was ridiculous. I was so upset I could cry. It as getting pretty late and the store manage was on the PA letting everyone know the store was closing in 5 minutes. I was on my way out the door when I decided to just meander through the women's section of the store, thinking I might as well just grab something that might fit and could maybe look a little masculine. I walked through the aisles and just grabbed 2 pairs of black sweat pants and, with a cringe on my face, a packaged set of five pairs of multi-colored panties and a B cup sports bra.

I hastily bought the clothes and hurried home. Luckily Jack wasn't home so I didn't have to worry about him seeing the female clothes I had just bought. First off, I tried on the white cotton panties. They fit great, much better than the boxers. Although I felt humiliated having to give in to wearing them, at least they were comfortable. I couldn't believe how feminine they made my body look. It felt nice to have something that hugged my new curves.

Next were the sweat pants. They were clearly cut out for a shape like mine, with extra room for the hips and butt and tighter on my waist. They were very soft and comfortable, but just a little too feminine to wear in public, which didn't help. I turned to look at myself in the mirror, with a sickly feeling in my stomach when I saw the panty lines that appeared through the pants wear they were clinging tightly to my butt.

Over then next six weeks, as the injections continued, the proportions became so exaggerated it became almost impossible to hide them. Dr. Anderson claimed that if they didn't make my body extremely feminine that the effects of the changes to my body would not be significant enough. I hardly ever left my room and never went out. I just told everyone I had mono and that I just needed bed rest for six weeks, which everyone believed. In the mean time, none of my clothes fit any more. I was up to a C cup and my hips and butt were huge. According to Dr. Adams I wore a 36 C bra and my hips measured 44 inches and my waist was 27 inches. Whenever I walked I could feel my huge butt jiggle behind me.

When I came to the end of the physical transformation part of the project, Dr. Anderson told me that now it was time to undergo the emotional tests and experiments.

"OK John, for today's experiment we are going to take some photos of you with a wig on and in some women's lingerie, and then after about an hour of posing we are going to asks you some questions and see if this has any effect on you emotionally."

With that, Dr. Anderson handed me a small black thong, some high heeled shoes and a corset. The receptionist that I met earlier was also the nurse at the clinic, and it was even more humiliating having her tie me up in this corset with my swollen breasts looking as if they could be just poured out of the small cups that contained them. I looked unbelievable, and with the wig that they gave, I looked 100% female, except I still felt 100% male on the inside. The heeled shoes made it even worse, as my butt seemed to stick out even more because of them.

After putting on the underwear I was given a robe to provide me with at least some modesty, at least I wouldn't be walking around the clinic with my big butt hanging out for everyone to see, and at this point I was so self conscious that my body dominated my thinking and made me feel vulnerable at all times. It was hard to go from being a strong and fit man to being this freak with a penis and huge hips and a butt that could double as a shelf.

The doctor told me to take the robe off and stand in front of the camera.

"OK John, let me see that big beautiful butt of yours. Turn around and look at the camera." Dr Anderson instructed me to do as if she was some sort of fashion photographer. The whole process was so degrading, and I think she knew I was very self conscious of my butt which is why the entire hour was dominated with shots of me with my back turned to the camera.

"OK John, that's all the pictures for today. You can go back and put your regular clothes on and then just meet me back at my office for some questions."

I went back on changed out of the thong and heels. Thank god, I hated having to wear that, it's an odd feeling to be objectified like that. All she wanted to see was my butt and my tits! I put my panties and sweatpants back on and walked down the hall to her office.

Back in the doctor's office, she asked me hundreds of questions about how I felt in my new body. She asked me if I was still attracted to women, and I said absolutely. She reminded me that with my new body, only a lesbian could ever be attracted to me, and that really hurt. She was right, no woman would want me now. She asked me if I ever noticed guys checking out my butt or breasts and I said that I noticed it all the time. She asked me how I felt about that and if I ever blushed. I did, it always made me blush, it was a weird feeling to know that now I was a sexual object for men and that I was so weak now that I probably could do nothing to defend myself.

"Well that concludes today's interview. Next week, rather than doing our typical five hour sessions, we have set up a new sort of test. We have arranged for you to work at a local strip club as a waitress and dancer. We're going to see how this affects your psyche, having to dance for men and having them e grope you all time."

I was disgusted. A stripper? Every week I had to do something more degrading and dehumanizing, I didn't think I could take it any longer. I didn't say anything back to her, I just nodded me dejected head. She knew how I felt and she loved it.

"Well, have a nice week John, see you soon." We shook hands as I avoided eye contact, feeling so ashamed off myself. Just to add insult to injury, when I turned to walk out, she pinched my butt.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself. You ass is phenomenal John, you could make a living showing that thing off."

I didn't even turn to look at her. I felt like I wanted to scream out loud and grab her by the throat and strangle her, but instead I just walked out the door. Something was happening to me, I was no long the confident, cocky guy that I was just 6 weeks earlier.

  

  

  

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