Slim Waist Syndrome By Rachael Platt Rachael.Platt@Hotmail.com
***************************************************************************** ** As with all my stories, everyone is granted license to copy, change and ** resubmit this story as they see fit. *****************************************************************************
About eighteen months ago the flu killed tens of thousands as it always does. But it was not a single strain that did so much damage; rather three different strains of the flu. People who got inoculated for one would invariably catch another.
And there it seemed to stop. People got well and life continued.
Six months ago the "centennial strain" came around. Like the flu from World War I, millions, perhaps tens of millions of people died. The vaccines did little to stop it. Yet again, people recovered and life continued. The deceased were buried and not forgotten.
December 7 was named "a day of infamy" when the Japanese hit Pearl Harbor. September 11 was named "a day of mourning" when the Twin Towers were destroyed. January 4 is now named "a black day" for the first day the hospitals started getting overrun with flu patients.
Now six months later the flu has run its course. The human body has overcome this new predator and won. But the cost was high.
What no one expected was a resurfacing of the flu in a new form. Initially they called it the Diabetic Flu since it consumed insulin to reproduce. Anyone with diabetes was at risk of shock. Everyone else seemed to stabilize
Me? No. I'm not diabetic. Nor does diabetes run in my family. But according to my doctor, I have the flu. Bed rest and lots of fluids was his only suggestion. Then I watched as he walked into a scrubbing station and did not return. I waited for nearly twenty minutes before leaving. I don't think he had a surgery. I think he was scared of me - of what is inside me.
Returning home I follow his orders. Sleep is easy most of the time. Drinking water helps but I can't drink the eight glasses the doctor recommended and eating is impossible.
A day, two days, three days... I lose track of time. Is it daylight? The shades are pulled closed but there's a light outside. I think it's daytime. Or is the light from the park across the street?
I'm weak but manage to crawl out of bed.
Food?
I haven't eaten in days. Yes, food sounds good. I manage to eat most of an apple and drink a glass of water, then crawl back to bed.
Sleep?
I need to see what day it is first.
Television.
Yes. Find the news channel. They will have the date and time.
It is when? And what is...
I watch the news update in horror. Four days. I've been out for four days. And yes, it is daylight. But that's not the startling part.
"Once again, hospitals are overflowing. If a man in your household is showing signs of the flu, do not take him to the hospital. Doctors are working furiously to find the cause and a cure." Then I notice there are only women announcers. That's strange.
"Doctors hope to find patient zero - the first man to show these signs, but time is running out. The flu-like virus causes nausea and vomiting while attacking male hormones. If not stopped, men are rendered impotent then bones begin to decalcify. And if this disease hits enough men, we could be looking at... well, the news is not good.
"Once again, hospitals are overflowing. If a man in your-" I click off the tv. Could I be patient zero? I'm too tired and weak to find a hospital. Just let me sleep a little while longer.
Night. Is it later today or another day?
Television. Right.
"SWS cases are showing improvement. The cure appears to be working and hospitals around the country are administering shots as quickly as they receive the vaccine.
"Once again, Slim waist Syndrome or SWS has been cured." A man this time. That's positive, right? "But not everyone has received treatment. If you know any men or boys that can not get to a hospital or shelter for treatment, please let authorities know immediately."
The date.
Oh My God.
It's been another four days! How am I still alive? I feel even weaker than before yet more alert.
I manage to get into a sitting position and slowly push my legs off the edge of the bed. With some effort I scoot until my feet touch the floor. It seems like the bed is bigger. I don't remember having to scoot so far.
Stand.
Right. I push myself into a standing position and my pants and underwear fall to the floor. I try to catch them only to lose my balance and fall back onto the bed. My shirt seems like a tent.
That was lucky! I almost fell head-first onto the floor.
What happened? What do I look like?
I pull off the shirt and stand back up. It's work, but I manage to get in front of the mirrored closet door. My mouth almost hits the floor.
My waist is definitely thin. But so are my arms and legs. And my hands look tiny. The effect makes me look androgynous, almost feminine.
A smile creeps into my face. I like the look. This body shape is much closer to a shape I've desired all my life.
Profile.
Yes! I turn to the side. Whoa! My body looks slim except my butt. I wouldn't call it a woman's butt, but it is slightly bigger than I remember it.
Then I notice something is missing. Well, not missing really, just not poking out. I turn again and notice my penis is much smaller and pointing straight down. Worse, the end looks deformed as if the hole grew and the head flowered open.
It responds to the inspection by growing slightly. But my balls are missing.
Pee.
Time to urinate. I lurch over to the toilet and sit. I feel my bladder emptying but the stream is starting behind my penis and running down. I finish, grab a little toilet paper and wipe.
Something felt strange when I did that. Not bad, not painful, but... strange. It felt like my scrotum was grafted to the underside of my groin. Would that mean my balls were pushed up into my body? That's not good. They don't produce sperm at body temperature.
But then, according to the news I'm probably impotent anyway. And with my penis in the state it's in, I don't think I could get a woman pregnant anyway. No Bob Jr. for me.
As the realization sinks in, you'd think I'd break down and start crying or something. But I don't. I had given up on having children long ago. Why, you ask? Because I had started taking female hormones a few months ago and just last month started taking testosterone blockers. I want to be a woman.
So tuck him back and check the effect.
Yes! I tuck my penis back into my groin. It's amazing! My penis parts the empty scrotum. When I close my legs, the scrotum holds it in place and I have labia.
I LOOK LIKE A WOMAN!!
I open my legs and my penis pops out. WOW! Ok, my penis is a bit big to look like a clitoral hood, but the effect is stunning!
If only I could be complete. I want so very much to have a child some day. I know there's pain and bleeding and cramps and moodiness. But I want them and the rewards, too.
Please, Lord, make me a mommy!
I feel weak from the excitement and exertion. I lay down and watch more television. No news this time.
I eat a little more - nothing to hurt my new figure, mind you.
Take your pills.
Yes! I take a double dose of all my pills. I want this to continue!
Eventually sleep overcomes me and I dream of holding my baby. My baby. How wonderful that sounds. How amazing that feels! The connection between child and mother is beyond description. The love is instant and unconditional. Where is his father? I look up and wake up.
Damn! I didn't see his face.
Another day has arrived. I get out of bed and move around. I have to get my strength back if I'm going to do more than waist away in bed. I start to clean the house but quickly tire and return to bed.
Check yourself.
Oh, yeah! I manage to stand up and walk to the mirror. I look the same as yesterday. No noticeable changes in the past twelve hours. I pray for more then return to bed and watch more television. Eventually I fall asleep. Just a nap this time, but the dream is back. I see my son. It's a fleeting dream but the image is burned into my mind.
I wake to find myself sweating. Then the cramps hit and I curl into a fetal position in pain. As the first wave subsides I feel my penis slide back against my groin, giving me that vagina-look.
No sooner do I smile than another wave hits. It eventually subsides. But a few minutes later a third cramp, then a fourth. I pass out from pain and exhaustion.
Daylight? I must have slept all night. The television is still going. I uncurl and hit the channel menu.
TWO DAYS? I slept through yesterday.
TV off. Are there more changes?
I stand up, finding it easier than yester- that is, two days ago.
Walking feels a little different. I change my walk to a girl's gait - rolls the hips, not the shoulders. It feels better, easier.
The girl in the mirror is me? My penis is still stuck between my scrotum/labia. I spread my legs to let it pop out and nothing happens. My scrotum/labia part a little revealing the remains of my penis, but it stays glued under my groin.
Blink. Blinking is good. Am I in shock?
I try to see more by I'm too weak to do much. I end up on the floor, legs spread, looking at my groin in the mirror. I love the effect.
My penis did get smaller but the head got bigger. I spread my labia. (Given its position and apparent purpose, I can't call it a scrotum anymore.) Inside is my clitoral hood - my ex-penis. And below that are my labia minora - my inner "lips" formed from the head of my penis.
Is there more?
Could it be? Do I have it? I probe around but do not find the opening I hoped for. No vagina - yet. But the exploration felt very nice, especially around my clitoris.
I masturbate myself to climax, grabbing and tweaking my nipples while playing with my clitoris and labia.
I WANT a vagina! Please!
Climax! More? I keep going.
Climax! Even better! I keep going.
Shuddering Climax!! I stop, exhausted. My body vibrates with pleasure. >From toes to the hair on my head, I vibrate.
I roll onto my stomach and crawl to bed, feeling the increased pull on my chest. I manage to get into bed and fall asleep smiling.
The hormones will change my secondary sexual characteristics. That is I will grow breasts and hips. Now a freak disease, Slim Waist Syndrome has changed my primary sexual characteristics. Even if I don't magically grow a vagina, surgery will take care of that. And until that happens I can easily pass as a woman.
For the first time in my life I feel truly content. Life is good.
Oh and, THANK YOU, GOD! I love you!
***************************************************************************** ** This story was inspired by a picture of a woman in sheer black pantyhose ** and black 3-inch pumps (and nothing else.) I wondered how wonderful I ** would feel with such a slim waistline, big hips and shapely legs. Don't ** you? *****************************************************************************