The accidental change - Chapter 1

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-The accidental change-

Chapter 1: 'Light-headedness can be a real bitch'

"The boys are back in town! ..." The stereo was set on max-level, as our car roared down the road. Free path. That would be cause it was saturday and most far out of town, so we had the street nearly to ourselves. And my buddy Mike welcomed tjis as a chance to drive his new car up to full throttle. "Yeah, dudes! This is the shit!" he yelled over to us against the loud music.

"YOU GO, BRO!" we shouted back euphoricly, as it always had been tradition in our clique.

Rick, who sat in the back seat took a sip of his beer-can and then again started to headbang wildly, singing along with the popular song of the band 'Thin Lizzy' again. The other two of us immediately joined him.

I always had kind of a bad feeling when Mike drove that fast. But of course I would never talk about stuff like this to my two best friends. Thanks to I was the one with the most thinking and a more quiet kind of nature they already used to tease me a little from time to time. One of their regular jokes was calling me 'chicken' 'cause I was the only one who always fastened the savety belt when getting in a car. I knew they weren't all to serious about it, as said they were my friends. But I didn't like it whatsoever and so I pretended to enjoy the speed as much as the two of them obviously did.

I even joined the unisono "Waaaaahooo!"-yelling of the guys, when Mike raced the car over a little hill and the car got like a second of airtime actually.

Maybe it was just 'cause the adrenaline that I figured must already circling through my veins, but even I started to get into this slowly, as the beats of my heart started to go way faster than those of the drums in the song. - The central reservations now literally flew by and by asides.

"The guys are right", I told myself. "I really need to lighten up a little I guess."

"Eh, hand me my beer, man." I gave Mike his beer-can as requested and took a deep sip of mine myself. As did Mike...

That, when he took one hand of the wheel to grap the beer and drink, was the very moment when he somehow must have slipped a little with his steering hand. The car began to slinger dangerously. Pure horror appeared in all of our faces as Rick and I each instictively tried to get a hold somewhere, while Mike desperately tried to get back the control over the car. Sadely for us he didn't succeed.

Driving now only on it's two wheels on the right at the time, the car unstoppable shot into a curve and right of the street. I took a quick deep breath when we flew of the the street, watching the dark earth of the acre we know flew towardst coming nearer and nearer.

The last thing I saw was the hood of the car as it was crunched together like mere paper right in front of my face with a nasty, awful sound. Then something brutaly and powerful hit the back of my head and everything went black...

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When I regained my conciousness, I at first couldn't remember what had happened. But then it hit me like a truck. The accident! My vision was all blury and I only realized I looked right into an intensive light. What was this...? The afterlife? Was I... dead?

But my sight relatively quick cleared up gaian and I recognized that I was staring at a white ceiling with a huge neon-lamp installed within. I smelled a strange but somehow familiar aroma in the air. Then I remembered! It was the same smell I knew from like three years back, when I had been at the hospital 'cause I had broken my leg while skateboarding. I was in a hospital. I tried to sit up, but couldn't move a bit.

What the fuck? Was I tied to the bed or something? That was when in shock I realized that I couldn't even FEEL my arms. Not only my arms, my fucking whole body seemed like it was completely gone. I tried to look at it, but gasped when I had to realize I wasn't even able to get my head up! I screamed out as loud as I could in sheer desperation and panic.

"The patient's awoken! - Get the doctor!" I heard the nervous commands of some woman's voice somewhere around. I commanded myself to to look there, but my body just wouldn't react. Not a single muscle seemed to move...

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I was lying in my bed, still. Numb, exhausted I stared directly into this damned hated neon-lamp above. I eagerly hoped that it's light somehow miraculously would become able to burn it's way through my eyes right into my brain, granting me the sweet mercy of death.

It had been two and a half months now since I had awoken. The doctor had slowly, bit after bit had let me known what my situation was now and what had happened.

My friend Mike was dead. He died in the car. His head got all ramed into the windshield and his body clamped between the crushed metall parts of the wreck that remained.

"What a lucky bastard." I thought. 'Cause my situation was one much more worse. Yes, the worst thinkable in fact, I would say. - I was a 'tetraplegic' now, which is a medical term for people who can't control their limbs an torso, so in short: Nearly their whole body! Yes I was one of those people now, despite I wasn't even sure if I still should call myself people or a human anymore. This condition was the most inhuman thing imaginable to me!

I had begged the Doctor, the nurses, actually everybody who showed up to be so mercifull to kill me, but they all had refused. They were telling me that I should be 'lucky that I was still alive and and that I would learn to live with my new situations and find new values'. Well if someone would have asked me, in my eyes that was just a load of bullshit! And I DID tell them! But those stubborn bastards, whom I cursed every day and night in hate as I layed there, still refused to help me out of this unbearable situation.

Same thing with Rick. - You wouldn't believe it, but I'm gonna tell you anyway: This dog got out of this Armaggedon of an accident with barely any significant injury. O.k., he had this big scar on the back on his head now, which he got when he had been catapulted all the way through and finally out of the front of the car. On it's way his forward rocketing body broke my neck and the skin of his head's back got sliced up by remaing glas-parts of the windshield, which Mike's skulls like must have knocked down like half a second before Rick went through it.

But what I couldn't get over, which haunted me was that I couldn't even blame the whole thing only on the others. I had been drinking, too. I COULD have told them to drive slower instead of cheering along with them. It was at least partly my own fault that I now was lying here like this. Helpless, useless like a fucking sandbag.

Rick used to visit me frequently. - He was the only one, as my mother died through my birth and my father when I had been fourteen. - He felt terribly guilty for all this happening 'cause it had been his body which had actually broken my neck, which maybe wouldn't have happened if he had worn a seatbelt. I tried to calm him down, to get some of that pressure of his mind. I wasn't even lying to him. I mean, I had seen pictures of the wreck. If he HAD actually worn a belt, he propably would be as dead as Mike and myself. - Yes, I considered myself dead. It was just a very slow, cruel way of dying to be like this.

Rick had been my best friend since our kindergarden-days. So I kind of counted on him to help me out of this situation. I even told him how to. "Just pull out the hose of the respirator... It will be quick... mercifull... Have mercy on me!" I tried to talk him into it.

But he just wasn't able to. "Man, I... I... just can't..." he had stammered in despair and then started crying a lot. - Well who knows if I would have had the guts for something like that if I were in his shoes. - So I kind of forgave him for that.

But anyway. I simply had to find a way out of this, to die. How ironic that it seemed to become the last competition of my life. To find a way to kill myself.

"Morning, Mr. Roper." All sunken into my dark thoughts, I haven't even heard when nurse Weinstein had entered the room. She was an adorable young beauty with a very cheerfull nature, but bitter as I had become, even she wasn't able to console me in any way.

"Let's see what we got here for you." She sat down on the side of my bed, while she opened up todays meal for me. "Ah, it's broth with stewed vegetables. Hope you like that, Brandon." The only thing I replied was a sarcastic snort.

But the young nurse didn't let herself get irritated by that and started to feed me with a spoon. "Say something if I go to fast." She said all friendly as always.

"You know what, Alison. If you really wanna do me a favor than please, and I mean it, PLEASE go fast enough to stuff enough of that shit in my mouth to make me choke!"

She looked at me with a expression of sadness and pity on her face. Then she quickly took on her smile again, as if nothing had happened. "Don't you be that way, Brandon. You know what the doctor said. If you refuse to eat, they'll gonna apply you to the gavage. So just calm down and enjoy some soup..."

I was cursed! CURSED! - And there seemed to be no escape...

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The next day:

"Mr. Roper!" I recognized it was the Dr. Soerenson's voice which occured there, after the door had been like thrown open literally. My first impression didn't prove me wrong, when the red face of the all upset Doc, which had taken 'care' of me since the accident, showed up within' my sight.

"What is it, Doc?" I asked sightly irritated.

"Hear me, I gotta tell you.. No, more like 'ask' you something."

"Well, I'll take a look at my appointment book..." I replied sarcasticly.

"I... I work for the military."

Huh? - O.k. NOW he had my attention.

"I've worked for them on new neurological practices and technologies for years and we have recently made some so to say quantuum-leaps in that areas."

Yap. The dude had obviously totally lost it. - I just hoped that he had gone insane enough to choke me or something.

"Listen to me, Brandon!" He looked me right in the eyes with a most intensive look. "We're now in the experimental stadium of even becoming able to do complicated neurologicall surgery. And I mean REALLY complicated processes! Something that we thought we could never even dream of only a few years ago!"

For the first time since the accident had happened, I had quite a hard time to not laugh out loud. It was all to grotesque. But I somehow managed to keep a neutral and interreseted expression on my face.

"And when I checked the 'A51-Network-System' this morning, guess what? You fit exactly!"

"Fit for what?"

"Genetically! To the donator! I mean... I just fed your DNA into the thing out of a wild idea. But it fits just so perfectly it's amazing!" he grabed my numb shoulders and even shook me a little in his outraging excitement." We might now be able to transfer... to implant a brain successfully into another body!"

Yap. Totally wacko! But if I played my cards right, I would be able to make my use out of wannabe 'Frankenstein junior' here. He might be the long searched chance for me to finally end this unworthy life of mine.

"O.k. Gotcha. And Doc: I'm all in." I replied.

"Really?" His face seemed as he coulnd't be any happier. - But then he hesitated, before he said. "But... the host-body... There something I... have to tell you about it. - It is a women's." He looked at me nearly scared, as if this statement could shatter his insane plan right on the goal-line.

Well, I didn't friggin' care. I was very well aware of the situation. This totally insane psychopath would propably drag me into some kind of cellar of his, swirl his scalpel through my brain a little and then I would finally be able to fade away. Compared to a lifetime of staring on this cursed ceiling up there, it seemed like a more than good deal to me. So go on, knock yourself out, 'Dr. Mengele'.

"As I said: No matter what. Count me in, Doc." I looked him intensely in the eye with what I hoped passed for a most serious look.

I could see his twisted mind was working now, he was 'all action', if not to say in a euphoric mood. "O.k., but keep that to yourself.- I'll make all the necessary arrangements. After these words Soerenson hastly left the room.

'Keep it to yourself'? Who would ever have believed me some crap like this anyway...?

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After two days had passed since the strange encounter with the doctor and having not meet with him after that any further, I already was afraid that he already might have ended up in a straight jacket.

At least until on the third day all of the sudden unusual loud discussing voices of several men seemed to get nearer to my room. The door got opened and you could not imagine my surprise when I saw two soldiers of the U.S.-Army coming in with a transportable sickbed with rolls.

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The men started to prepare the device right at the side of his bed, while the head-chief of the hospital entered with another man, angrily discussing with him. "Don't you hear me, Sir. You can't just simply take a patient out of my clinic. Noone informed me. The Army-officer which he yelled at looked down on the little man. He looked like the prototype of a military cliche. The blond short flat top-hairstyle, the muscular shape, and no recognizable facial expression whatsoever besides totally focussed determination.

"Mr. Fuller, I have handed you my orders." He pointed with his chin on the paper which the little bold man held in his hand. "So if you have anything to complain about them you call the hhite house and everything will be taken care of."

"The white house?" This whole situation more and more seemed to become way to much for Fuller's mind.

Without paying the bubbling of the old Professor any more credit, the officer went on.

"Captain Roper here is a highly decorated officer of the United States Army, and my orders are to transfer him to a military hospital were he'll get proper treatment. - Captain." With the last word and nodding in his direction, the obviously seemed to adress him. So Brandom just played along and improvised a "Sir, good day, sir."

"But if you try to transport him without the supporting machines, he would die instandly!" Prof. Fuller pulled his last card.

"That's why we will take them with us."

"Y.. you... - WHAT?!" Fuller's jaw simply dropped. "You have no right to do that!" This is our patient! And those machines are proberty of MY hospital! You will immediately stop to..."

"Seargent..." - Another soldier, a black men, grabed Fuller harsh and wordless from behind. "Take Mr. Fuller to his bureau until we are done here." - The raging old man was dragged out of the room.

One of the soldiers who stood beneath Brandon pulled an injection out and shot it into the arm of the paralyzed man. The young patient, unable to see that n'or feel the sting, was still listening to the conversation of fuller and the strange offizer, when he suddenly blanked out.

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When I awoke, my vision was all blur again. "This light up there...", I thought. "Oh no..." I knew this thing. I had helplessly stared at it for like countless weeks. This was the goddarn neon of the hospital ceiling! I started to panic. Had it really all been a dream? Was I slowly becoming insane? All groggy I grabed my aching forehead with one hand.

"Wait... What?!" Rapidly I sat up in the bed. Yes, I actually sat up! All by myself. My vision slowly cleared and I saw Doc. Soerenson and nurse Weinstein gathered around my bed. - Had it all maybe been a dream? The paralyzation? Everything? Had I eventually gotten out O.k. of the accident?

"Seems everything worked out perfectly." said the Doc with a proud, satisfied smile.

"You're able to move again!" Said Alison cheerfully in my direction and clapped her hands, being happy for him. I euphoricly enjoyed the regained control of my body's movements and stretched out my arms.

"Yay!" Alison squeaked all happy to the Doctor. "Look at her go!"

Yeah, I really felt so good and alive and... - Just a second, WHAT had Alison just said?

I abruptly looked down. What I saw I was for the moment unable to accept being real. Two quite large bulges stuck out of my chest under my... nightgown. Trough the silken fabric I grabed these two fleshy mounds that seemed to be part of my body. They were real! I could actually... feel them. Large sensible nipples pointed out between my fingers all to visible through the thin fabric to deny they were there.

"Jesus Christ..." I gasped. Then something else came to my mind. - With a quick movement I reached under the blanket and grabed into my crotch. "With a totally puzzled look I fumbled around there over and over again... But the facts didn't change whatsoever. Finally I slowly raised my head and looked with wide open eyes at the doctor and his nurse. "I have a pussy..."

"Oh gosh! Quick hold her head It's still sensible to..." that was the last thing I heard before I became unconcious again.

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When I woke up again I still clamped onto the hope that this all might have had been a bad dream... which I had had in a bad dream... Whatever... But when I sat up and grabed my chest, this hope faded. - But I wanted the final prove. Not that if that would have been necessary, speaking in terms of logical thinking as I actually could fell those big tits jiggling around while I moved, not to mention the unusual 'emptyness' between my legs. But I simply needed to SEE what they had done.

With a buzzing sound the long lamp in the small bathroom nearby my room came to life. I took of the nightgown and then with a qick step placed myself right in front of the mirror, opening up my eyes again.

It was unbelievable. What stared back there at me was the image of a young women, supposably around my own age, twenty or something. Her head was covered in a bandage. What remained visible of her hair was brunette and very short. I figured the doctor's must have shaved it of for the surgery.

She wasn't quite the model kind of type, not exceptionaly thin. Curiously I touched the wide round hips which were now my own, then took a closer look on the two large breasts with the big sized nipples. I felt their weight on my chest.

Then I bent a little to take a better sight of the area between my legs. There was no doubt about it. Those pinkish 'lips', this fleshy opening down there... Goddammit! I had a women's vagina.

I immediately forced myself to not lose the track.

"Think it through, man. - Yes, they saved you in some way. You can move again. - But where would that lead to? What do you think you are gonna do? Reading Cosmo and buying Diddle-mouses? Hell, you even can't have sex with a women anymore!" And of the the alternatives I wouldn't even think of. "The only chance which all this brings to you is: You finally can bring this misery to an end with some dignity. So get a hold on yourself, 'soldier'! Let's do this." - The face of the young woman in the mirror now showed total resolution.

I had put on a bathing robe and now took the last steps up to the rooftop-exit of the staircase. Of course the rusty metall door there was locked. But hey: For what if for anything would growing up in an Orphanage be good if not for learning from your pals how to open a lock with a simple piece of wire.

The unfamiliar feeling of these big breasts hanging there between my arms unnerved me, while I fumbled around with that wire, but made me even more confident of my former decission.

I would end this nightmare now. It should have ended with the darn accident from the beginning on. Hell, if I only would have told Mike to drive slower! - Tears of regret ran down the smooth cheeks of my now womanly shaped face.

*Click* - "There you go, Brandon." The lock was open. With a push I opened up the skreaking door. The cold night's breeze blew in my face, under my nightgown, sending a strange shiver up my... "Don't think about it. That's not you anymore, Brandon. That's a ridiculous farce that has to be ended...

Barefoot I walked over the gravel of the flat roof, heading towards the edge.

So there I stood, at the edge of the roof. Down there, six floors under me in front of the hospital, there were some people walking around in the light of the clinic and various street lamps.

"I never would have expected death to come for me that early in my life. - And especially not in this kind of way, that's for sure." I silently laughed to myself. So many goals unachieved, so many things not done yet... - Well, I guessed it was not ment to be...

"Get a hold on yourself, man." I muttered. I touched my throat with my hand. Even the sound of my very own voice now freaked me out, girlish as it was now.

"This was no way for a man to life. - "Let's get it over with, Brandon." - I took a deep breath...

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"What's it with all the noise?" Dr. Soerenson came out of his office, a tired look on his face. Knightshift really was a bitch. Two male nurses carried some woman down the stairs into the corridor of the second floor. Her brown hair hung into her face and she was crying her heart out.

"Some passerby sighted this women on the edge of the rooftop and informed us. When we got up there, we found her all curled up on the floor weeping."

The distraught woman raised her head and looked at him her eyes and cheeks were all red and covered in tears. "I... I was supposed to do it..." she whined in despair "I wanted to... but I couldn't." Crying and sobbing she stared into the ground as spit ran out of her in shock wide opened mouth and dropped onto the floor.

"Bran... er... 'Brandine'?" - Soerenson caressed the head of his poor patient to calm her down a little if possible. But she didn't seem to react.

"You know this lady, Sir?" the male nurse asked.

"Yes, I'll lead you to her room. Follow me."

-End of chapter one-

To be continued...

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Comments

Really? o.O Haven't ever

Really? o.O Haven't ever read it n'or even heard about it. - And don't think I will in the near future. It would might affect my creativity, and I want my story to be a product of my very own. - But when I once will be done with this, I will give this story you mentioned a read, seeing if it'll turn out to be anything like mine.

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"Life's a laugh and death's a joke. It's true.
You'll see it's all a show.
Keep 'em laughing as you go.
Just remember that the last laugh is on you"

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"Die Gedanken sind frei / Sie fliegen vorbei
Kein Mensch kann sie wissen / Kein Jäger sie schießen
Mit Kugeln und Blei / Die Gedanken sind frei"

Brainjacked is good if incomplete

Though she left is at a suitable point so it is self contained.

Johh in Wauwatosa

John in Wauwatosa

Good start

Good basis for an interesting story.

Lora123falle.jpg

I've read stories with this general premise before...

There even was fairly good made for TV movie of a woman to woman brain transplant.

Nice start, will follow.

The only problem I have with the whole premise is if you can transplant a brain and hook it up why can't they same tech be used to splice a broken spinal cord?

In the TV film the brain donor was a badly crushed by a cement truck running her over, beyond hope of repair and dying. The donor body was ironically the woman she saved by pulling her out of the street and sacrificing her life. She had collapsed due to an aneurism and was brain dead.

As to your story, was the military thing, his being a soldier, a convenient lie so they could take him for the experiment he agreed to or was he on leave visiting friends?

Why couldn't they fix his neck instead? That surgical breakthrough would make more sense for healing soldiers than a transplant unless the REAL purpose was -- other than rare instances like the dying woman with the good brain and the brain dead but otherwise healthy woman scenario -- to create the perfect spy? IE abduct your enemies girlfriend, wife, college age child or his/her close associate and stick your agent's brain in their head, YUCK! but it could work!

John in Wauwatosa

John in Wauwatosa

The accidental change

It's a good interesting story so far!
Please continue writing it.
Considering how many methods there are (in these stories)
to quickly change sex make the story your own!

Then read 'I Will Fear No Evil' by Robert A. Heinlein written in 1987
one of THE BEST science fiction stories on a sex change
by brain transplant. (in my humble opinion.)

But WRITE FIRST explore this path yourself before looking at everybody else's maps.
Who knows where they'll take you.

A little brainwashing prior ...

Jezzi Stewart's picture

... to awakening, like an anti-suicide command to protect their investment?

BE a lady!

Puzzled

The story is good and I will certainly continue to follow it but I felt that it made no sense for them not to keep better watch over Brandon, they knew he was a High Suicide risk and he was a huge investment - this seemed very foolish and inept of them.

The nature of Monkey is - Irrepressible!!!

The nature of Monkey is - Irrepressible!!!

I don't think so... Most

I don't think so... Most people want to live and her suicide attempt was more out of duty than because she wanted too. She probably realized her live is shit, but it isn't bad enough to end it.

Awesome story,
I can't wait for the next chapter.

Beyogi

Don't Think So...

We've had two or three indications already that forthright action isn't Brandon's strong suit. This failure seems consistent with that evaluation.

(It may or may not be worth mentioning that since his own body was completely disabled, his previous "suicide attempts" had consisted of pleading with people to disconnect or poison him. We don't know whether he could have done the deed himself had he been able to, no matter how much he wanted to end it all.)

Eric

an old movie

when i read this it reminded me of an old movie called synapse where a arms dealer gets framed for his girlfriends death then sentenced to the medical research department since corpation then ran the world well he wakes up in a womans body. thats all im saying about movie as dont wanna ruin it if ya havent seen it

You might also like...

Puddintane's picture

Beyond Gravity by Justin Lieber (part of a series, including Beyond Humanity, Beyond Rejection)

He's a scientist, the son of the writers Fritz Leiber and Jonquil Stephens Leiber, and the books deal very seriously with the notion of habituation to reconcile the body image of a man who has "died" and been resuscitated in the body of an asteroid miner who had been "flash-frozen" in an accident in space. The series is quite good.

Cheers,

Puddin'

A tender heart is an asset to an editor: it helps us be ruthless in a tactful way.
--- The Chicago Manual of Style

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Cheers,

Puddin'

A tender heart is an asset to an editor: it helps us be ruthless in a tactful way.
--- The Chicago Manual of Style