The Novella Collection Read online

  The Novella Collection

  Five Tales of First Time Feminization

  D.L. Savage

  Black Key Press

  Contents

  Copyright

  The Lucy Experiment

  Sissy School

  She’s the Boss

  Blackmailed by Bethany

  Personal Assistant

  A Note from Dana

  Also by D.L. Savage

  © 2017 Dana Louise Savage

  Cover image © 2017 - kiuikson - Depositphotos.com

  1

  The Lucy Experiment

  When the email arrived, late one Thursday night, informing me in no certain terms that I was about to lose all my remaining funding and that I must immediately begin to dismantle my project, I felt like screaming and tearing out all my remaining hair. I’d worked so hard on my research and now it was all about to be shut down, before I’d even had a chance to put it into practice and actually prove to the world that it worked!

  Five years I’d spent on this damn project.

  Five long years, and now it was all about to go to shit, just because the powers that be thought it was too risky to ever test out on humans!

  Well anyway, when I read that email, the shock hit me so hard that I had to rush to the nearby johns and vomit.

  A few moments later, once I’d rinsed my mouth at the faucet, I took out my cellphone from my stained, dirty lab coat and dialed the home number for Stephen, my assistant.

  As I paced up and down the deserted late-night washroom, waiting for Stephen to pick up, I paused by the mirror on the far wall, taking in my reflection. Man, I looked like shit. I hadn’t shaved in almost a week, and my eyes were incredibly sunken and dark from all the nights I’d spent awake in the lab, always on the brink of a breakthrough. My bald crown was shining beneath the harsh electric light of the washroom, and my remaining tufts of hair stood out so madly, I was beginning to fulfill the stereotype look of ‘mad professor’.

  “Hello?” came a confused female voice on the other end of the line. Whoever she was, she sounded like she’d just woken up.

  “Can I speak to Stephen Andrews?” I said as politely as I could, trying to keep all the trembling anger at my current situation out of my voice.

  “He’s asleep,” came the woman’s rather blunt reply.

  “Well,” I said, feeling my own temper begin to soar within me, “You’d better go WAKE HIM UP THEN!”

  I heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, before the unmistakable sounds of her running off into the apartment and rousing Stephen from his obvious slumber. I wondered who she was; some bimbo he’d picked up at a night club or bar, most likely. Stephen was much more of a ladies’ man than I’d ever been. But then again, that wasn’t particularly hard now, was it? If I was honest with myself, I could hardly even remember the last time I’d gotten laid. The last few years, it had all just been work, work, work. And a fat lot of good that had done me ...

  “Hello?” said Stephen eventually.

  “You need to get to the lab, quick!” I barked.

  “What’s the hurry, Doc?” he mumbled, obviously still half asleep.

  “There isn’t much time to explain,” I replied, “but it looks like they’re cutting my funding …”

  “What the fuck?!” This latest news finally snapped him out of his half-asleep state.

  “I know. We were idiots to expect anything different,” I continued. “You need to listen to me, Stephen. We’ve not got much time. I’ve decided to take things into my own hands. I’ve got a back up plan, you see. Something I’d been hoping not to have to implement. But, it looks like I’m going to have to give it a go after all. Otherwise everything we’ve been working towards will be lost. You understand what I’m saying?”

  I heard Stephen murmur his agreement, obviously still in shock.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said before hanging up the phone.

  I looked once more at my face: at my greasy skin and my seven-day-old stubble, my tired bloodshot eyes and unruly hair. I ran the cold tap and splashed water on my face, hoping to wake myself up.

  I’d been working for over twenty-four hours without any sleep, and knew that it wouldn’t be long until I crashed out completely.

  I looked at the time on my cellphone.

  It was 4:18am.

  The lab officially opened at 7am, which left me just under three hours to complete the remaining stages of my research, using my new (emergency) Plan B.

  I just hoped Stephen got here quickly, because from what I was planning, it might be dangerous to administer the dose of serum on my own …

  * * *

  “Whoah, Doc! You look like shit!”

  Stephen’s frank exclamation caused me to smile, despite myself. He’d never really been one to pull his punches, and I couldn’t help but like him for it. That and his general happy-go-lucky nature.

  “Well, I’ve been working hard …” I explained, rubbing my face with my hands, feeling my stubble rasping dryly against my clammy, dirty palms.

  Stephen, meanwhile, looked his usual youthful self: he was fresh out of college, and his broad athletic frame often turned female heads here at the research lab. His teeth, when he smiled (which was pretty frequently), were an impossibly bright white, and he wore his thick blonde hair all long and shaggy. I guess you could say he looked like a ‘surfer dude’ or ‘stoner’ type kid, but in reality Stephen was actually a pretty hard-working and focussed lab assistant. Most of the time.

  This was why I’d asked him to come down to help me at the lab out of hours, and why I felt that I could trust him with my new plan ...

  “So what’s the idea, Doc?”

  Stephen’s voice bust me out of my swirling, churning thoughts and I turned to him and fixed him sternly in my gaze.

  “The idea, Stephen, is that you’re going to inject me with the femme serum,” I said with a deadly seriousness.

  At this suggestion, Stephen’s eyes widened and he looked from me, to the large syringe lying there on the counter, then back again. He shook his head at the thought.

  “But Doc … the latest serum’s not been tested. You remember what happened to those lab rats when we tested that previous batch … Man, I was picking bits of fur off the ceiling for weeks afterwards! Are you sure you wanna do this? There must be another way ...”

  “The serum’s come a long way since then,” I insisted, “and anyway … If it doesn’t work, then what have I got left to live for, anyway? This research was my whole life, Stephen, you must understand that? And now they want to take it away from me? Well, I’ll show them. I’ll show them all that it works …” My voice was shaking and trembling as I spoke and my heart was pounding hard against my ribs. I really meant what I was saying. I meant every last word.

  Stephen took a step towards the syringe, then stopped, shaking his head once more, sadly.

  “I just can’t do it, Doc,” he murmured. “What if … what if you die? I can’t be responsible for that …”

  “Fine,” I said, picking up the syringe myself with a trembling grip. “But at the very least I want you to stay here and monitor me once I’ve slipped into the first stage coma, okay? And if nothing bad does happen to me, then take me back to your apartment for a while, to rest. Think you can do that?”

  Stephen nodded, his bright blue eyes now trained on my arm with a deadly intensity, completely transfixed as I picked up the large syringe, full of its translucent blue liquid, and plunged it deep into my vein …

  * * *

  “Wh-where am I?” I groaned, my eyes still adjusting to the dim gloom of the unfamiliar room.

  I was under soft blankets on what seemed like a couch, and the wh
ole room smelled faintly of perfume. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, my vision slowly sharpening up and adjusting to the light levels. The curtains were pulled closed and it was almost impossible to tell exactly what time it was exactly, but there seemed to be daylight coming in through a small gap. Late morning, I guessed hazily.

  “Hello?” I called, my voice echoing out into the empty apartment.

  Just then I heard soft padding footsteps against floorboards, coming right this way.

  I sat up as much as I was able to on the couch, but my whole body was in absolute screaming agony; it was like a strange, full-body muscle cramp, and my head too was incredibly dizzy and foggy. In short, I felt like total shit.

  The door burst open and I was met not by Stephen as expected, but instead by a tall, leggy, tanned brunette, wearing only a simple cotton men’s shirt to cover up her modesty.

  “So you’ve finally woke up then?” she said rather harshly. I could tell right away, just from the tone of her voice that she didn’t like me, and I wondered who she was; the girl on the other end of the phone last night, I presumed.

  “Where’s Stephen?” I asked. “And how long have I been out for in total?”

  But before answering my questions, the girl strutted angrily across the room towards the window, giving me an accidental glimpse of her toned, bare butt, flashing out from beneath the bottom of the rumpled white cotton shirt.

  Then she aggressively yanked the curtains open so that the whole room was suddenly flooded with bright white daylight.

  I winced and had to cover my eyes, shuddering from the pain.

  “You’ve been asleep on this fucking couch for three whole days,” she hissed. “And unlike some of Stephen’s deadbeat friends that I could mention, he’s out working until six. He’s not allowed me in here all that time, not once, and he’s been watching vigil over you almost non-stop until a little earlier this morning. So now that you’re finally awake, do you mind telling me just what in the fuck’s been going on around here? This is my apartment too, you know …”

  I tried to think back on the previous events, to piece together what had happened, where I was, and just what was going on.

  Then it slowly began to return to me once again … The serum … My research being shut down … The whole sorry story ...

  So, I’d been on this couch for three days, asleep, while the femme serum — the pinnacle of the last five years of my research — had been quietly working away inside me.

  My hands quickly shot to my body, touching myself all over for any distinct signs of change.

  But no. There was nothing physical to indicate that it had taken effect, not that I could tell.

  Apart from an almost continual dull ache, emanating from somewhere deep inside me, there seemed to be no other physical change whatsoever.

  “It’s difficult to explain,” I began. “But my name is Jonathan Edwards, and I’m a scientist at the same lab where Stephen works. I’m — well, I was his boss, his immediate supervisor. Well, until they pulled the funding on my research, that was …”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” the girl replied, a genuine note of compassion entering her voice for the first time since she’d entered the room.

  “That’s okay. But you see I couldn’t let my research go to waste. It was far too important. I was so incredibly close to my breakthrough, you see. So I had to do the only thing I could and inject myself with the latest batch of my serum. If it works … if my calculations are correct, and I begin to transform, then they will have to accept that my latest research wasn’t a complete waste of time after all …”

  “I see,” the girl said, raising her eyebrow at me. “So you’re the crackpot professor I’ve heard so much about from Stephen over the last few months. Well, answer me one thing at least, prof …”

  “Sure, anything,” I said, happy that the tone had turned a little more pleasant at least.

  “Why do you have to sleep on our couch? What’s wrong with your own place?”

  At this, I felt my cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment.

  “Well, the thing is,” I began, but there was no dignified way I could find to say it. So I swallowed my pride and just blurted it out, in as steady a voice as I could: “I got kicked out of my apartment last month, for missing my rent, okay? And since then, I’d just been kind of sleeping at the lab.”

  “Perfect,” the girl sighed to herself, shaking her head then turning to head back out of the room, “just fucking perfect …”

  “What’s your name, miss?” I called after her.

  “Jill,” she called back after me as she headed out of the room, her tanned, bare buttocks once again flashing from beneath the flimsy white shirt she was wearing. “Oh, and one more thing! Take a shower, Prof! You look ... and smell ... like shit!”

  * * *

  In the bathroom, I stripped out of my sweaty, dirty shirt and stained brown slacks, then peeled off my three-day-old boxer shorts too. Man, I was ripe. I took a few steps over to the long full-body mirror standing over in the corner of the room and took a good long look at myself.

  My eyes moved over my slightly flabby, hairy pecs, following the dark curls of hair downwards towards my belly, which was getting a little out of shape from all the mountains of junk food I’d been stuffing myself with during my many late-night lab sessions. Then my eyes moved to my dick, which had got almost zero action over the last few years.

  I’d dedicated my whole adult life to science, you see: sacrificing any kind of fun, or family, and even the possibilities of relationships. And all for what? I didn’t think I could handle it if my serum didn’t work. It would mean that my whole existence had been a fucking waste of time.

  I was only thirty-one years old.

  What was I doing? I wondered sadly, as I looked over my pale, out-of-shape body, my eyes once again fixating on my small flaccid cock and pathetic looking balls.

  I’d never been particularly satisfied with my junk, and these days I even found myself avoiding watching any porn with guys in it, because it always left me feeling like my five-and-a-half-inch pencil dick was rather … how shall I put it … inadequate in comparison.

  As I ran the shower and stepped beneath it, washing and scrubbing my body thoroughly, washing away all that gross dried sweat and flaky skin, my mind turned once more to Jill.

  Stephen was such a lucky bastard, I thought. She was obviously the latest in a long string of girlfriends. Imagine having a broad like that, padding around your apartment all day in nothing more than a flimsy cotton shirt.

  And I felt a strong horny feeling creeping over me, as I remembered the cheeky little flash of buttock she’d given me as she pulled open those curtains …

  My soapy hands moved between my legs, grabbing my dick and tugging hard at it.

  This was the first time I’d had the urge to masturbate in what felt like a very long time.

  I imagined Jill bending over, pulling up that shirt, uncovering the full tanned roundness of her perfect butt beneath, then reaching behind herself, spreading her cheeks for me, giving me a good glimpse of her tight puckered little asshole and shaved pussy lips …

  I tugged and tugged, harder and faster at my cock, my mind swirling with horny filthy thoughts, but it was the absolute strangest thing.

  No matter what I did to my dick, it just wouldn’t get hard.

  Perhaps the serum is starting to take effect after all, I thought with a flash of hope.

  * * *

  “I think I’m gonna have to stay here at your apartment for at least another week or two,” I told Stephen that evening when he returned home from the lab.

  He groaned and rubbed his face, but nodded gravely. “I’m not sure Jill’s gonna be too pleased about that,” he sighed. “But then again, she’s not been very pleased about anything over the last few weeks ...”

  “I’ll keep out of the way,” I assured him.

  “So how are you feeling, Doc?” he replied.

  I thought about my curre
nt condition: I still felt pretty bad. My body ached, deep down in my bones, and I felt somewhat puzzled about my increased libido but inability to achieve an erection. Was this worth mentioning?

  “Well, something’s happening to me,” I said, “but I’m exhibiting very different signs to our last batch of test rats.”

  “Well, that’s probably for the best,” Stephen smiled back, his white teeth glinting. “I don’t want to have to peel bits of you from the ceiling.” He looked up at it with his big blue eyes. “I just had it painted!”

  For some reason, as I looked at him, I felt a strange fluttering feeling deep in the pit of my stomach. My eyes took him in, as if for the very first time: his broad, manly shoulders and his youthful features, his tight-fitting pants with that incredibly visible bulge at his crotch as he sat there facing me, his muscular legs set so wide and confidently apart, and I had to admit: I felt kind of horny.

  What the fuck? I thought.

  Up until that moment, I’d never, ever had any kind of attraction towards a guy whatsoever, and especially not to Stephen, my lab assistant for the last however-many months!

  The serum, I thought again. It’s definitely the serum ...

  “Doc, you realize there’s no turning back if that serum does take effect, right?” Stephen asked gently.

  I pushed these latest weird horny thoughts from my mind, and focused once more on his question.

  I nodded.

  “I know,” I said. “I know I’ll end up … a different person, if the serum takes effect the way we’d both like it to. But I’m prepared for that, Stephen. It’s not exactly like I’m leaving much of my old life behind, is it?”

  Stephen smiled sadly and nodded.

  He was one of my only friends left in this city; since our work together, we’d grown rather close, and I knew that he cared about me as a friend as well as a work colleague. And also, he’d seen my situation get worse and worse, first hand: my lost apartment, my funding cuts, the whole nine yards …