(F, fant, tg, no sex)

Author: Anonymous

Tracy Lee Smith stared at her nude reflection in the mirror.

She knew every inch, every statistic associated with her refection. She was five foot three and one half inches tall, weighed 105 pounds soaking wet.

Her measurements were 33-24-35, a perfect size five, although she could wear a size six equally as well. Her shoe size was also a size 6, 6B to be exact. She wore a size 4 panties and a 32 B bra.

Her high firm breasts were neither too large nor too small for her slender appearing body. Long blonde hair fell in lose waves to just below her shoulders, accenting her golden tan.

It was a beautiful body she knew, one that caused long admiring looks from men and quick jealous glances from women.

A body in excellent physical health and tone, obviously a woman who exercised frequently to keep herself in shape. A perfect body... except for one little problem. It wasn't the body she had been born with.

In fact, until she had been so rudely thrust into the body, it hadn't even been one of her own gender.

Until a week ago, Tracy Lee Smith had been a man.

-0-0-0-

"Now Tracy, until you settle down we won't be able to finish the tests."

"But I don't feel sick, doctor." Tracy said squirming uncomfortably as the gray haired doctor attached some electrodes to his chest. The conductive cream on the rubber cups was cold against his skin. He stared at the ceiling of the examination room, willing himself to ignore the cold electrodes.

"Right at this minute, yes. But as I've told you, you could drop over dead at any second." The doctor said, as he adjusted some dials on a machine sitting next to the examination table.

Tracy glanced over at the machine and watched a needle on a dial swing wildly from one side to the other. He looked up at the ceiling again. In spite of his assertion that he was feeling fine, he felt a his stomach become a little queasy.

"What is that thing supposed to show?" Tracy indicated with a nod of his head the machine the doctor was adjusting.

"It measures your heart rate, among other things. Now be still until I finish the reading." The doctor commanded.

Tracy resumed watching the ceiling. In the half hour he had been laying on his back, covered with only a small towel over his hips, the ceiling hadn't moved an inch. The doctor moved the small lamp that was illuminating the room, sending the ceiling into darker shadows.

Tracy closed his eyes and sighed.

He must have fallen asleep; he realized when the doctor removed the rubber cups with a quick snap of his wrist. Tracy rubbed his eyes and yawned.

"Are you about through with that?" He was relaxed from his little nap, but still annoyed that the doctor would ruin his afternoon like he had.

"All done. While you were taking you nap, I managed to complete all of the necessary tests." The doctor walked to the doorway and flipped a light switch on. The bright fluorescent lights momentarily blinded Tracy, causing him to blink.

"You can get dressed now. When you're ready, come to my office and we'll discuss the tests results."

A few minutes later Tracy knocked on the doctor's office door. The doctor invited him in and Tracy opened the door.

"Please sit down, Tracy. We have a lot to talk about."

Tracy sat down in the easy chair across from the doctor.

"Tracy, I'm afraid that I have rather bad news for you." The doctor began gravely. "You're dying."

"So you've said." Tracy said. His tone was almost defensive. All this talk about him dying was making him nervous. "I think you're wrong, I feel fine."

The doctor sighed. "I know. But all the tests indicate that you won't live much more than five or six months. Your heart could give out just like that." The doctor snapped his fingers. "Or it could slowly deteriorate until it just quits. Either way, you'll die.

"Is there anything we can do? A heart transplant or something?" Tracy asked hopefully.

The doctor shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. Not even a heart transplant will help. The only thing that would save you is a complete new body."

Tracy looked dejectedly down at the floor. The doctor's diagnosis was exactly the same as the three other doctors he had seen. There was no hope.

It wasn't as though he'd abused his body. He'd exercised regularly, didn't smoke or drink and ate the right kinds of foods. Despite his careful regiment, the doctors had all told him the same thing, he was dying.

"I see." Tracy started to rise. The doctor stopped him.

"Wait, Mr. Smith. I said that a heart transplant wouldn't work."

"So you said." Tracy looked at the doctor expectantly.

"I read that there's an experimental transplant research going on over at the University Medical Center. It involves whole body transplants."

"Whole body transplants?" Tracy sat back down in the chair.

"Well, not exactly the whole body. It seems that what they do is transplant a part of the brain, the part that contains the personality of the patient, into the brain of the donor."

"A brain transplant? That sounds like something out of a science fiction movie. It isn't possible is it?"

"The Doctors at the Center seem to think so." The doctor grew silent while he waited for Tracy to digest the implications. "Mr. Smith, I'd like to sign you up for the program."

Tracy hesitated. "A brain transplant? I, I'm not sure..."

"Mr. Smith... Tracy, you have nothing to lose. At worse you'll die in six months anyway. At best, you'll have a new life with many years ahead of you." The doctor smiled and pushed a stack of papers across his desk to Tracy. "Go ahead and sign, Tracy, you've got nothing to lose."

Tracy picked up the pen and began signing the consent forms. When he had signed the last one he felt as though a weight had been removed from his shoulders. All he had to do now is wait. He hoped it wouldn't be too long.

-0-0-0-

The young messenger handed the clerk the thick envelope. As she took it the young man leered at her, causing her to blush. She signed the receipt and dismissed him with her eyes.

"Thanks a lot, gorgeous." The messenger leered again.

"Your welcome, creep." The woman said under her breath. She waited until the messenger left the room before she opened the envelope. It was an application for the experimental brain transplant program.

"What is it, Mary?" A woman asked from behind her.

"An application for the brain transplant program, Mrs. Harris." Mary said.

She read the cover letter from the doctor. "Looks like just what the doctors are looking for."

She thumbed through the release forms. "Damn, why don't they fill these things out properly?"

"What's the matter?"

"The doctor forgot to fill out the sex of the patient."

Mrs. Harris glanced at the forms in Mary's hand. "What's the name?" "Tracy Lee Smith." "Tracy Leigh? Pretty name. Sounds like she's a girl, Mary. Mark 'female' in the gender blanks and send it up to the committee."

"Yes, ma'am." Mary did as she was told.

-0-0-0-

"Well, Doctors, it would appear that we have a donor and a recipient that are a match." Doctor Hiram Bradshaw said to the Ethics committee.

The doctors looked excitedly at each other. "How close?" One of the doctors asked.

Bradshaw looked at his notes again. "Out of a possible 100 points, they're a match at 96 points. They could be siblings."

"If they're that close, then why did you call us together?"

Another doctor asked. "Both have volunteered for the program, otherwise we wouldn't have even cross matched them. You don't need the Ethics Committee to decide whether or not to proceed."

"Under normal circumstances, no. But this is a rather unusual case." Bradshaw paused. For the thousandth time he wondered how such a mistake could have happened. "I believe I already mentioned that the patient and the donor could be siblings."

The committee nodded as one in confirmation.

"The problem is if they were, they would be brother and sister. They are different genders, Doctors. So the question you must decide tonight is do we deny the transplant and allow the recipient to die, or do we proceed and turn a young man into a young woman?"

"Is there another patient or donor that we could use instead?"

"No."

The Doctors looked at each other for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Sometimes, the Ethics Committee had to decide more than just the black and white decisions of life or death.

"Has this been discussed with the patient?"

Doctor Bradshaw shook his head. "No. The error wasn't discovered until the patient had been prepped and was in the operating room."

"They're ready to proceed now?"

Doctor Bradshaw's silence confirmed the fact. The doctors looked at each other again and nodded to the Ethics Committee Chairperson, a brilliant young Gynecologist by the name of Nancy Webb.

"The Committee recommends that you proceed, Doctor Bradshaw." She said.

Doctor Bradshaw smiled and gave the committee a slight nod. Now no matter what happened it was no longer his responsibility. "Thank you Doctors."

-0-0-0-

Tracy almost panicked when he realized that he couldn't move. His fledgling struggles stopped when he heard a woman's voice telling him to relax.

Tracy opened his eyes and looked up at the woman. She smiled back down at him.

"Hello Tracy. My name is Doctor Webb, I'm the Chief of Staff and Chair the Ethics Committee. The operation was a total success, Tracy. You'll be able to get up and walk around tomorrow. But in the meantime, I've ordered bed rest, to allow you to adjust to your new body."

Tracy blinked his eyes. His new body... his mind was in someone else's body. That would take some getting use to. He wondered if he would be as tall as he had been before.

"How do I look?" Tracy managed to crock out. His throat was still sore from the tubes he knew they had stuck in him. His voice sounded a little strange, as though he had changed from a bass to a tenor.

"Under the circumstances, quite good really." The doctor smiled. "The donor was in excellent health and condition. I think that you'll find it will service you well for many years to come."

Years? "How old?"

"I believe the donor's records indicated that you will be celebrating your twentieth birthday in another two months."

My new body is only nineteen!, Tracy thought. He'd lost nearly twenty years off of his real age. My, God, what I can do with another twenty years added to my life, Tracy thought. His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp pick in his arm. He glanced down just as the doctor removed a syringe.

"I think that you need to sleep now, Tracy." She said smiling. "When you wake up again, you'll be in your room, and on the way to recovery."

Tracy tried to thank the doctor but was asleep before he could open his mouth.

-0-0-0-

"Ah, we meet again, Tracy." Doctor Webb smiled down at Tracy when he opened his eyes. Tracy looked around the room. He was in the hospital room he'd been assigned, or one just like it, his hands seemed to be held down by restraints.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Tracy said truthfully. In fact he'd never felt more alive in his life. It was amazing what a new healthy body twenty younger could do for you.

"I need to do some tests." The doctor smiled and moved to the end of the bed. "So if you'll bare with me for a while...." She ran her thumbnail along the sole of Tracy's foot. It jerked. The doctor did the same test with the other foot with the same results.

"Now wiggle you toes." The doctor watched intently as Tracy did as he'd been ordered. She proceeded to check his fingers, all appeared to be working as nature intended.

"I have to go to the bathroom." Tracy said, feeling a pressure in his bladder.

"That's the catheter. It makes you think that you have to go, actually it does the work for you. Tomorrow we'll remove it."

Tracy nodded, there wasn't much to say about it. Still, it was an odd, strangely unsatisfying feeling.

"Can you at least remove the restraints from my wrists?" Tracy asked.

"No, not yet. There is still a lot of tubes sticking in your arms and we don't want you to disturb them just yet."

Tracy protest that he wouldn't was cut short by the firm "doctor knows best" look the doctor shot him. Tracy sighed and resolved himself to being confined to bed for a while longer.

"But what if I get hungry?"

"The orderly will feed you." Doctor Webb patted his thigh. "Don't rush it. You'll be up and out of here in less than a week."

"Yeah, sure." Tracy replied.

They chatted for a while until the doctor's pager went off. She glanced at the number and excused herself, leaving Tracy alone with his new body and his thoughts.

About an hour later, an orderly, a very attractive young woman, came in with lunch. Tracy knew he hadn't eaten in over 24 hours, but could eat only half of it before feeling full. The orderly put the Television remote control in his hand and left the room.

Tracy turned on the TV and ran it through the entire range of channels. Nothing much interested him, so he turned down the sound to a whisper and left it on. If nothing else, it would be a passive companion.

Tracy was bored. And with boredom, came the chance to think about his new body. Since he was restrained hand and foot, he could do nothing more than try to explore his body with his mind. Concentrating on each feeling until he could identify it, Tracy went about mentally exploring his body.

Some sensations, like the catheter hose taped to his inner thigh were easy to identify and catalog. Others, such as the strange feeling of sensitivity as the sheet rubbed across his chest were not.

Some things he just guessed at. Like his height, he knew he was shorter than he had been before, and consequently probably weighed less too.

Tracy couldn't shake the feeling that there was something wrong with his body. It wasn't just that it wasn't his, it was more than that. There were subtle differences that he could feel, some like his guess about his height were difficult to explain.

Some were less so, like the weight on his chest. The donor had obviously worked out a lot, and had developed his pectoral muscles almost to the point of being grotesque.

He had neatly cataloged his body, or at least most of it when he began to notice a warm tickle of liquid flowing down ward between his legs. Concerned that the catheter had sprung a leak, Tracy pushed the buzzer button to summon the nurse.

A few minutes later, an attractive nurse he'd never seen before came into the room.

"I'm Nurse Webster. Is there something wrong, Tracy?" She asked.

Tracy wondered briefly why all of the medical staff kept using his first name. He was unaware that they had been given orders to use his first name to prevent a slip. In his current body, he certainly didn't look like a Mister. Tracy explained what he thought had occurred. The nurse raised the sheet and his hospital gown and carefully inspected the area in question.

"It's alright. You must be imagining things. Besides what little leakage their might be will be caught by the under pad." She turned to leave.

"Wait Nurse, please." She turned around and waited. "I've been laying here since I woke up this morning. There's something I have to know."

A strange look crossed the nurse's face. "Certainly Tracy, I'll tell you if I can."

"What color are my eyes and hair?"

"Blue and blonde, in that order. Now, if you'll excuse me..." She said spinning on her heel and walking out of the room leaving Tracy with nothing more than a memory of her terrific looking figure.

A blue-eyed blond, Tracy thought.

Just after dinner, Doctor Webb returned along with another doctor Tracy thought he recognized.

"Good evening Tracy, how are you feeling now?" Doctor Webb asked.

Tracy glanced at the other doctor.

"Oh, excuse me. This is Doctor Bradshaw, he's the Doctor that headed the surgical team in your transplant." Doctor Bradshaw nodded, but remained silent, he was busy doing the same tests Doctor Webb had performed earlier that day.

"Doctor Webb? I want to know something."

She looked expectantly at Tracy.

"Is this new body of mine a girl?"

The doctors glanced at each other. "Uh, what makes you think that?" Doctor Webb asked.

"I didn't have anything else better to do, so I took a mental inventory.

It's not so much what I felt, but what I didn't feel that made me come to that conclusion."

The doctors glanced at each other again. An unspoken question was asked and answered.

"Uh, yes, it's a female." Doctor Bradshaw confirmed. Tracy could feel his world drop out from underneath him.

"A blue eyed blonde?"

"How did you know?" Doctor Webb asked surprised.

"I asked." Tracy said quietly.

"I see. Well, there's no more use for the restraints, now is there?"

Doctor Webb said, more to Bradshaw than to Tracy.

Bradshaw shook his head and pushed the nurse's call button. A few seconds later the nurse who had told Tracy that he was a blonde came into the room.

"Yes, Doctors?"

"Please remove Miss Smith's restraints and IV's nurse." Webb said to the white clad woman.

MISS Smith? Tracy thought in wonder as the nurse released first the restraints on his ankles then his wrists.

Even though the restraints had been well padded, Tracy rubbed his wrists.

He was stunned to see how slender and feminine his hands and wrists looked.

He twisted his palms away from him and studied his slender fingers. The skin on the digits was smooth and firm, roughly confirming his new age. He turned them over and looked at the palms.

"No calluses." He said surprised.

"Young women of the donor's age rarely have them." Bradshaw supplied.

Tracy looked up at the two doctors. "Tell me something about my, uh, donor." The "uh" was when the nurse removed the catheter. It was a relief to have it out, but it still felt like it was still inserted. Tracy resisted the urge to go exploring.

Doctor Bradshaw glanced at the catheter the nurse was putting in a biological hazard soils bag. "That reminds me. If you feel the urge to go to the bathroom, ring for a bedpan. I don't want you out of bed just yet."

"Right now, I couldn't even sit up, let alone get out of this bed, doctor."

Tracy smiled weakly.

"And for the next week, I don't want you wandering around by yourself.

I've assigned Nurse Webster here," The nurse glanced up and smiled at the mention of her name. "to be your constant companion."

"A baby sitter?" Tracy asked feeling slightly insulted.

"If you want to use that term, yes. She will be your baby sitter." Bradshaw sighed. "Tracy, look, I know you feel alright. But you must realize that for a while at least, your body will be a stranger to you. Until you learn to control it, it might do things that might be either embarrassing or harmful to you."

"It's strange alright." Tracy deadpanned, bringing a giggle to Nurse Webster.

"Nurse Webster is also our Nurse Instructor for the University's classes on Human Sexuality. She will, uh, teach you how to be comfortable with your new body, Miss Smith."

"I can hardly wait." Tracy said dryly.

The two doctors spoke for about an hour longer before leaving, satisfied that Tracy Lee Smith, ex-male wouldn't go off the deep end when they left.

Right after dinner, he was given another injection and quickly fell asleep. He hadn't had the chance to explore his new body.

-0-0-0-

Daylight was barely streaming through the pulled draperies of Tracy's room when Nurse Webster came in carrying a large paper bag. "Come on sleepyhead, time for your bath." She announced.

Tracy groaned and covered his eyes with his forearm when Webster pulled the drapes open. "I don't want a bath."

Webster looked at her charge thoughtfully. "Okay, how about a shower then?"

Tracy was wide-awake. "A shower, does that mean that I can get out of this damned bed?"

"If you take it slow and easy, yes." Webster watched in amusement as Tracy whipped the cover back.

When he started to sit up, however, Nurse Webster was right at the edge of the bed supporting him. Even though he was almost prepared for it, his stomach did a quick flip-flop when he felt the weight of his breasts on his chest.

Tracy held his hand on Webster's shoulder until his stomach settled down a little. Nodding he was ready to try standing, Tracy scooted forward a bit and allowed his the calves of his legs to stretch over the side. Webster helped Tracy swing his legs over the side of the railing.

Tracy and Webster were eyeball to eyeball. Tracy was panting with the effort.

"Wait a second. Let's be sure we know what we're going to do. I want you to grip onto the edge of the bed as hard as you can and slide forward."

A look of panic crossed his face. "What if I fall?"

"I'll catch you." Webster said firmly. Seeing his look of doubt, Webster smiled. "Don't worry, I'm strong enough to catch you. Besides all you have to do is make it from here to the wheelchair."

Tracy nodded and started to slide off the bed. He slid and slid until his toes touched the ground. When the soles of his feet were flat, he looked up at Nurse Webster. She was a good five inches taller than he was.

"My God, you're tall." The comment escaped his lips before he could think.

He blushed, knowing that most women who are over six feet tall were usually sensitive about their height.

Webster surprised him by laughing lightly. "Thank you, but I don't think that five nine is all that tall, not in today's society at least."

Being suddenly thrust into a blue-eyed blonde woman's body hadn't diminished Tracy's mental capacity in the least. "Five nine?" His stomach did another flip-flop, as he whispered. "Then I must be....?"

"About five foot four or there abouts." Came the calm reply. Webster caught Tracy before he fell to the floor. She picked him up and carefully laid him back on his bed.

She decided to allow Tracy to remain as he was for the time being and allow him to come out of his faint naturally.

A few minutes later, Tracy regained consciousness. His sharp mind quickly provided him with the answers why he found himself on the bed again.

"You okay?" Webster asked.

Tracy nodded. "I think so. I'm sorry, its just having been six foot tall since I was fifteen..."

"I understand."

"Webster, Jesus, I can't keep calling you 'Webster' all the time. What is your first name?"

"I'll tell you on one condition, you don't laugh." Webster looked serious.

Tracy nodded, crossed one rather ample breast and held his palm up.

"Promise."

"It's Danielle. Danielle Webster." She had said her name with narrowed eyes, obviously having been teased about it when she was younger. Tracy stuck her tiny hand in Danielle's and smiled.

"Glad to meet you. Would you care to have dinner with me tonight?" Tracy joked.

"Hospital food? Ugh. No thanks. But I will take you out to the best restaurant in town as so as they release you."

"It's a deal." They shook hands again and giggled.

A few minutes later, Tracy was feeling ready to stand again. Nurse Webster, Danielle, helped her petite patient to stand and walk the short distance to the wheelchair.

Danielle help Tracy put a hospital robe on and started pushing the wheelchair out the door into the hallway.

"Where are we going?"

"To the shower room, where your going to get the best shower a girl could ever hope for."

Danielle pushed the chair a few feet down the corridor then suddenly stopped. Tracy looked back at her wondering why they had stopped for no apparent reason. He was surprised to find that she had disappeared. Growing close to panic, he was relieved when she came out of his room carrying the paper bag.

"Forgot your clothing." She said simply.

-0-0-0-

"Well do you want to try to stand under the shower, or have me give you a shower in the chair. Either way, you're going to get a good scrub down."

"I'll stand." Tracy said.

"Good girl."

Tracy winced at the feminine pronoun. He wondered if he would ever get use to be called a "she" or a "her".

Tracy watched as Danielle carefully adjusted the water in the shower. He waited in the wheelchair until she had returned before he tried to stand up.

Carefully supporting his body with the arms of the chair Tracy stood. He wavered for a few seconds then steadied.

"Very good." Danielle said as she undid the ties to the hospital gown.

Tracy closed his eyes and held his head up as the gown slipped from his body.

He could sense Danielle standing in front of him.

"Tracy? Would you like to see what you look like?"

Eyes still closed, Tracy took a deep breath and nodded. He could feel himself being maneuvered slightly to the side by the taller woman.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now." Danielle said softly. Tracy opened his eyes and gasped.

His first impression was that the woman he saw in the mirror was so short!

The next and most lasting impression was that she was beautiful. Her figure was in perfect proportion, hips not too wide, breasts just large enough and firm enough to give the undeniable signal that this was a woman. Although there could never be any doubt.

A woman who would be just as happy with babies sucking on those firm perfect breasts as she would have been with a man doing it.

Tracy turned to one side. Even in profile, his new body was perfect. He looked like an exquisitely crafted doll.

"My God." Tracy said in awe. "I'm beautiful."

Danielle Webster, Registered Nurse, turned to look at her attractive charge and nodded.