Always read the fine print

Dave sighed as he stared at himself in the mirror in disbelief. “All I wanted to do was fix the receding hairline that was starting to show on my head,” he thought, massaging his now curly scalp. “I should have read the side effects of that experimental medication more carefully.”

The first signs of change were subtle but disturbing. Hair all over his body began to fall out all at once, as if his body had decided it no longer needed it. “Well, maybe it’s just the medication redirecting the growth to the right place,” he thought at the time, trying to reassure himself. But when the straight, blond hair he was so proud of began to grow in wavy, dark hair day after day, he began to worry. “At least it was growing back,” he tried to console himself.

But the real terror came later, when the changes began to go far beyond his hair. His body began to change in ways he could never have predicted. In a matter of days, he had lost so much weight that his clothes felt like sacks hanging off a body too thin to hold them up. “I can’t complain about this,” he thought at the time, with a mixture of relief and confusion. “I’ve always struggled with diet and exercise… who would have thought a hair pill would solve my overweight problem?” 

But his relief turned to panic when his skin began to darken, taking on a deep tan, and to his utter astonishment, his breasts began to grow—not just swell, but actually take shape and volume. The sensation was surreal, the weight of his new breasts, firm and pointed, pressing against the T-shirts he could barely wear now. His hips widened, his waist narrowed, and his entire body seemed to be molded like a living sculpture. 

“This… this can’t be happening,” he muttered, his eyes wide as he stared in the mirror. His hair, now curly and thick, framed a face that was no longer his own. The figure reflected in the cold surface was no longer Dave, the man he knew. Now a stunning woman with radiant black skin, pronounced curves, and lush hair stared back. He was somehow trapped inside this new body.

“The fifteen-day medical leave ends tomorrow,” Dave reminded himself, his heart racing as the deadline approached. He looked away from the mirror, trying to escape the image of the woman who was now staring back at him. It all seemed so unreal, like a dream he couldn’t wake up from.

His eyes wandered to the bed, where the clothes the doctor had suggested he buy were spread out, to “better accommodate the changes” while they investigated his case more thoroughly. There were pencil skirts, elegant blouses, and even a few office-style suits—professional, formal wear, he thought. But when he touched them, the texture of the thin fabric and the fitted cut revealed something he hadn’t considered. Each piece seemed too short, too fitted, as if it were designed to draw more attention than he would have liked. He remembered being in the store, picking out those clothes, and, even though he didn’t want to admit it, something about them drew him in a disconcerting way.

"These skirts are too daring," Dave thought, running his fingers over the fabric of one of them. He blushed as he imagined how they would look on his new body, molding his curves with a perfection he had never wanted or planned for. "Was it really necessary to buy something so... fitted?" The unease in his mind was palpable.

As he stared at the "secretary" clothes spread across the bed, something else caught his eye—something he had overlooked until now. Among the more formal pieces lay a set of red lace lingerie, its soft texture almost causing a contrast with everything around it. The doctor had suggested practical women's clothing, but why had he opted for something like this? The bra and panties were incredibly sensual, far more so than any medical recommendation would require.

But before he could fully process the situation, his eyes drifted to the corner of the bed. There, neatly folded, was a sexy nightgown, made of nearly translucent black silk. There was no practical justification for that one—Dave had bought it out of pure curiosity, an impulse he could barely understand. The doctor had never mentioned nightgowns like that.

He sighed, feeling his face heat up. "That one was definitely completely unnecessary." The words sounded almost like a confession. Although he knew there was no reason for him to have chosen something so provocative, he couldn't shake the nagging thought that perhaps a part of him was beginning to accept this body differently. Something inside him, something he didn't even want to admit, had made him reach for the nightgown without hesitation.

Now, looking at that piece of silk and lace, he couldn't help but wonder: What if it wasn't just curiosity?