Crystal's StorySite storysite.org

 

A Second Life       by: Jennifer A. Contrisciani

 

Part One

 

She was beautiful, innocent, sweet, and fresh. Everything he was not. Will shifted in his chair, his arthritis causing pains to course throughout his body, and lightly brushed a wisp of silky blonde hair away from her face. It was a perfect face, with soft features, a little button nose, and full pouty lips, the type of face women were jealous of and men desired. Her breathing was regular, coming in shallow intakes of air, that sent her chest rhythmically expanding up and down. His eyes were drawn to the movement and for a time he simply sat there watching the clean white linen sheet that covered her breasts move with her.

After a time he felt a cramp coming on and he moved to relieve the pain. At ninety-five, there wasn’t much that didn’t hurt these days. But his mind was fresh, and his eyes alert. Throughout his life, he’d kept his body in excellent shape, and even when the body failed around seventy-five he continued to keep his mind sharp. That mind, sharp as it was, harboured no illusions about his fate. He had been diagnosed with terminal liver cancer. It wouldn’t be much longer before his pains would be ended, one way or another.

Despite his terminal illness, he was better off than the sixteen year old girl he now watched laying in the hospital bed. He remembered when he was sixteen, back in 1983 and the war on drugs, Nancy had said "Just say no." He shook his head, the war was still going on, and the country was still losing. Despite the warnings, the education, the television ads, kids like this still used, and still suffered the consequences. Will extended a gnarled hand and reread her chart for the umpteenth time: Brain dead, all higher brain functioning ceased, autonomous nervous system stable. Prognosis: chance of recovery- none. Even with all the advancements in medical science, the cloning of organs, advanced laser surgery, once the electrical impulses left an area of the brain, once blood no longer flowed, the brain quickly died.

It was a pity. So young and beautiful and she had wasted it in a brief moment of bad judgement. Even in 2062 kids still died using inhalents. The waste of it all. Will reflected, again watching her face with mixed emotions. A pity for her, but a chance at life for him. Will guiltily put the chart back and stood. His hand reached out slowly, he turned his head to check the door, then returned, and his hand continued to lightly grasp the sheet. He slowly pulled it down, revealing a slender neck, slim shoulders, and then breasts that were already a size B and probably would develop into full C’s. He pulled a little further, revealing a slender stomach and trim waist. He stopped there, feeling guilty of violating her privacy, even though she had no way of knowing his actions, nor any brain to care at his affront. He pulled the sheet back up, over her breasts and to her neck. He didn’t like looking at the hair that had grown in her armpits over the past several weeks. He touched her lips with a finger. If all went well, those would be his lips, and that would be his body. He turned and hobbled out of the room.

After several agonizing minutes Will reached his room and crawled up in bed. His body ached, his stomach hurt, and he felt nauseous. Pulling the covers over himself, he closed his eyes. As he laid, he imagined what it would feel like waking up in a new body, Krissi’s body. Ever since he was young, he had felt like he was a girl. He had started his crossdressing at an age too early to remember an exact age, but it must have been around six or seven. His first forays had been into his mother’s lingerie drawer, wearing bras and panties late at night when everyone in the house was asleep. That had progressed steadily over the years to the point where he was a thirty year old man with a stable job and a wife, and he secretly dressed up and went to dance clubs in the Detroit area, his crossdressing skills advanced to the point that people had trouble distinguishing him from a real woman.

He had lived that way much of his life, stealing bits of time back to his true self when he dressed. After he had turned fifty, he had put his female clothes, wigs, and makeup away for good. He had grown too old, and too worn to pass, and a woman’s prime was in her youth anyway. However he always imagined and dreamed of the time when he had been young and beautiful. His wife, bless her, had never given him grief over his actions, although he had kept his crossdressed public activities from her. He suspected she knew, but the two of them had reached an unspoken agreement to leave it at rest. She had passed over twenty years ago, and the following years had been lonely ones.

Now at age 95 Will was gambling the remaining months of his life, and everything he owned on an illegal experimental procedure. Brain transplantation had been successfully done in animals over ten years ago, but the practice, as was cloning whole bodies, was illegal for humans. Congress feared that the rich would extend their lives by purchasing bodies and transplanting brains. The ethics were horrendous, and the possibility of someone killing another person for their body all too real. Despite his desperation, Will hadn’t resorted to that. Once he had found a neurosurgeon willing to do the procedure, for his own ego as well as the several millions of dollars that Will had accumulated over his life as a businessman, he had screened every patient that came into the New York hospital system. He’d moved to New York five years ago for that express purpose. It was incredibly difficult to find a suitable body. If the brain was dead, they had also probably suffered other damage, including damage to their autonomic functions. Too, half of the doners were male, and many were older patients. It had taken Will five years to find a body he wanted.

This time he would be a girl, and he she would be pretty and she would be young enough for him to experience life as a girl, at least for as long as his mind stayed sharp. He figured he would make it to forty or so at least before he went senile, and that was enough for him, at least for now. He had signed an agreement with the physician, that he would sign over all of his worldly possessions to him upon successful completion of the surgery. The papers had been drawn up, awaiting only his final signature.

He fell asleep and dreamed of running through a field of flowers, with no pain, and no aches, in Krissi’s body ...jiggling breasts and long hair streaming out behind him, and laughing, and.... he woke up. The sky outside was dark. The clock beside his bed read 7:05 pm, its glowing red numbers and it’s alarm tone beeping, beckoning him to wake. He forced himself to sit up and begin the long painful walk down the hallway to Krissi’s room. Her parents, a loving couple who lived upstate, were coming in to visit as they always did. This time, however they would hear of a slim possibility of their Krissi coming out of her coma. They had refused to give up, or take her off life support, despite every doctor telling them it was hopeless. Will sat down with a heavy sigh on the bench outside Krissi’s door.

He was awakened by footsteps, apparently he had fallen asleep while waiting, and was stuck in an uncomfortable position. With a groan he righted himself and took up a magazine he had brought with him. The doctor gave him a knowing smile as he passed, and Krissi’s parents smiled as well. After all, he was always sitting there reading whenever they went to visit their Krissi. He had listened to their conversations, their pleadings with their daughter to come out of it, heard them read stories, reminisce of her past, especially those he had listened to. They passed him and entered the room, the doctor leaving the door slightly ajar as he had over the past several weeks. Will strained to listen, turning his hearing aid up to full.

"Mr. and Mrs. Lawton, I have something to say, and....well I don’t want you to get your hopes up, but there is a slight possibility an experimental operation may get your daughter back to you."

Will could hear the sharp intake of breaths from her parents. Then quiet.

"What is it Doctor Goldman?" John Lawton asked, hope creeping into his voice.

The doctor paused, then continued, "Your daughter has ceased electrical function in her brain. It is possible that if we implant a biologic device that will generate human brain electrical impulses and activity, that it may re-initialize her brain functions." He continued for several minutes using technical jargon too difficult for her parents to understand, and Will who had been studying the procedure that would actually be used, couldn’t help but snicker at the bald-faced lie the doctor was spinning. He stopped himself immediately however, his guilt returning.

"Wait" John finally said, his hands up, "so basically what you are telling me is that Krissi may regain consciousness?"

"Yes, there is a slim chance." the doctor replied.

"What are the chances?" Julie Lawton asked, her voice quivering with fear and hope.

"Approximately ten percent" Goldman replied flatly.

"Ohhhhh" Julie sobbed, as John comforted her.

"Honey, it’s better than nothing" John said reassuringly. "Doctor what are the complications? What’s she going to be like?"

"Well" Goldman said rubbing his chin, "it’s hard to say, there will probably be some memory loss, possibly personality shifts or quirks...it’s too complicated to say with any certainty."

"Well if there is any chance...." John began.

"She could lose autonomic functioning as well, then we’ll have to unplug her according to industry health insurance guidelines." Goldman warned.

John and Julie looked at each other. Tears streamed down both their faces. "She’s not our Krissi this way" John said choking back emotion, "Dear we’ve got to try." Julie Lawton could only shake her head yes, her voice too weak.

"Very good" Goldman stated producing a sheaf of consent forms from his clipboard. "I suggest you sign all these wavers before you get cold feet, the longer we wait, the poorer the chances." With trembling hands the two parents signed sheet after sheet. When they left, Will had another bout of guilt. Goldman stayed behind in the room as they left. After several minutes, Will walked into the room. Goldman smiled wickedly, all pretense of compassion gone.

"So Will, it looks like it’s really going to happen this time. Don’t worry though, your chances are really a lot better, say fifty-fifty." Will gulped. He knew the odds, and fifty-fifty wasn’t good by medical standards, but really what did he have to lose? Several months of intense, progressively more agonizing pain?

"When is this scheduled?" he finally asked.

"I’ll put it at ten tomorrow night. There’s a light staff and I’ve got everything set up. According to official hospital records she’s just in a regular coma. There will be a blood clot in her brain and I’ll have to go in to operate. Miraculously she’ll come out of the coma" Goldman smiled arrogantly, his handsome fortyish features showing extreme smugness and confidence.

"Or the patient will die of a blood clot" Will finished.

"Or she’ll die of a bloodclot and you will have checked out of the hospital never to be seen or heard from again."

"Remember, you only get the money if Krissi comes out of her Coma and signs the papers... my handwriting will still be the same."

"Don’t worry, everything will be just fine" Goldman said reverting back to a sweet bedside manner.

Will grimaced and fought down his nervousness. "Okay, what now?"

"Now you go back to bed, and enjoy your last" he glanced at his watch, "twenty-six hours as a man."

------------------------------------

The operation was performed by doctor Goldman with two nurses. A circular ring was trimmed out of the hair on Krissi’s head, the hair in the center gathered up and pulled out of the way. Then a saw opened the skull. The removed cap was placed aside. A similar operation was performed on Will’s bald head. The entire cerebellum was then excised from Krissi’s head leaving the cerebrum containing her autonomic nervous system. Next, Will’s cerebellum was cut loose from the surrounding brain tissue with the exception of it’s connection to the brain stem. Grafts were then placed connecting Will’s brain to Krissi’s brain stem using harvested nerves grown from infant stem cells. As one strand was connected, another was cut loose from Will’s stem. The computer programmed surgical laser worked all night connecting and fusing nerve endings. The procedure ended six hours later at four am in the morning. Krissi’s skull was set back in place with several biologic pins and her scalp sewn together. Once her hair was released, the bald ring was undetectable except on examination. Will’s carcass was tagged and sent to the morgue, replacing a John Doe body that had been removed earlier during the day. The gruff man who took the body down didn’t ask questions, just took the $1000 bill Goldman handed him. The two nurses received $100,000 in cash, although both would end up missing later on, having died in a freak poisoning incident involving each other and a purported love triangle, the cash finding it’s way back into Goldman’s account.

-------------------------------------

In Krissi’s recovery room, Goldman gazed on his handiwork with satisfaction. Little did Will know, but this was his third operation, although it was his first transgender swap. He shrugged, whatever floats your boat he thought to himself... as long as they pay me. He hoped the neural connections would take hold. It was going to be several weeks before he would know, it would take that long for the fibers to knit and reroute their linkages. However, things looked good, he was already detecting neuron firings in various areas of Will, err Krissi’s brain and the scan showed like that of a normal deep coma patient. Time would tell.

--------------------------------------

Dreams came and went, good dreams as well as nightmares, dreams of Will, and dreams of Krissi.

--------------------------------------

Sunlight. Light in his eyes. Bright. Shut eyes. Still bright. Consciousness... Will’s mind slowly kicked back to life. My mouth is dry he thought. My mouth is dry....then it came back to him. He was alive! But was it his mouth? He tentatively concentrated on how he felt without opening his eyes. He felt tired and woozy but for the first time in many years he didn’t feel a constant ache throughout his body. He slowly opened his eyes. Everything was blurry, but after several seconds things snapped into focus. He looked down...and was filled with a wonderous sense of joy. What he had so fervently hoped for was there. He saw a clean white sheet, and where his chest was were two distinct mounds, the form below those was slender of waist and wide of hip. He raised his head for a better look, and a wisp of blonde hair fell over one of his eyes. Another surge of joy swept through him, long hair, and...perfect 20/20 vision. He tried to sit up, but it was an effort, his arms and hands felt distant and didn’t respond exactly as he wanted. One jerked only spasmodically, but after some effort he managed to reach the bed control. Slowly the head of the bed raised up so that he could sit upright.

He just sat there breathing and looking at his new form for quite awhile. He couldn’t help but notice the weight of the breasts on his chest and the feel of his hair on his shoulders. He corrected himself, ...herself, her shoulders. Will reached up with one slender hand, shaking as it went, and grasped the bedsheet around her shoulders. With great anticipation, he slowly pulled the sheet down, like he had so many times before. Looking down he saw two perfect well formed b-cup breasts with swollen nipples. Still shaking, Will moved one of Krissi’s hands to her breast and caressed it. Then he cupped it and lifted it up, and let it drop back into place, watching and feeling it bounce with satisfaction. Yessss! He thought. He tried to move one of his legs but couldn’t. It jerked a bit, but he had no control. The other leg bounced a bit. Maybe it will take time to get used to this he thought. Again he shakily moved the covers down further for the final proof. With a jerk, he pulled the rest of the sheet off. Smooth skin. Smooth skin down to his toes, with a slim waist and curving hips. Best of all there was no jutting phallus to ruin the smooth contour of the beautiful body, only a small mound with light wisps of budding blonde hair. The catheter protruding from her body and the unshaven legs could be taken care of later. Will said a prayer thanking the fates for this second chance, and fulfilling his long awaited dream. Just then a nurse came in, and upon seeing Krissi awake, promptly dropped the supplies she was carrying and letting out a surprised squeel, quickly ran to a phone "Doctor Goldman to room 733 stat, your patient has regained consciousness." She quickly ran to the bedside, "Oh my, you poor girl, welcome back. Now let’s get you covered up here" the solicitous nurse said helpfully, pulling the sheets up and around Will’s shoulders. "Now, now, you just wait and be calm, doctor will be right in to see you. I’ll see about getting you a nightie now that you’re awake. Poor girl, you’ve been in a coma for over a month."

Will laid back and closed his eyes, man was he tired. He fought to remain awake, but it was a struggle. He felt so wasted and weak, almost as weak as he had been as a 95 year old man. Well she hasn’t, I mean I haven’t moved in over a month Will corrected himself. She....I probably is pretty atrophied. It’ll be all right Will thought, I know how to train. Pretty soon I’ll be up and walking and in shape and .... he was flooded with possibilities.

Just then the nurse popped back in, "I’ve called your parents, they’re rushing in to see you. Oh Krissi, they’re going to be so happy."

She tried to speak but only a hoarse hss came out. "Oh dear, here let me get you some water." She held up the glass to Krissi’s parched lips and she swallowed several mouthfuls, the action of swallowing feeling strange, everything in fact feeling strange. After several more swallows Will managed to say "thank.....you" and heard Krissi’s.... his....HER new voice for the first time. This is going to be one hell of a trip she thought.

 

 

 

*********************************************
© 2001 by Jennifer Contrisciani. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.