Yet I was.
Bugger!
Then I remembered something else. Something I’d always denied and refused to allow into my life. It explained why I felt so good at being the person I now was.
I lay in the darkness, staring at the ceiling. The years of training allowed me to maintain a calm exterior as my mind performed cartwheels.
This was impossible!
Yet it had happened.
I went through the last memories I had, coming to the conclusion that somehow the experiment had interfered with my DNA and genetic makeup to change me into a girl.
How?
Why?
Was it able to link into my subconscious, and fulfil unfulfilled desires?
How come the process was so quick?
I knew that sex change transition therapy took months or even years of hormones followed by surgery, and still the results often needed cosmetic work.
There were no answers.
I remembered my bad knee.
I sat up.
It was dark, so I checked the clock on the wall - 04:05.
Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I placed my bare feet on the cold lino floor.
I stood, flexing both legs.
There was no pain and no restriction in either knee. I looked down my legs to my feet. They looked unblemished and so perfect that I pinched myself to check again that I wasn’t dreaming. Those damn feet, so small and pretty, not at all like those great lumps of meat I was so used to. No wonder my boots looked so big!
Stripping off my hospital nightdress, I stared down at the perfect body I found myself inhabiting now. I was almost the same height as before, a shade under five foot nine. I was certainly much slimmer and with a beautiful hourglass figure. My very firm and round breasts were large enough to be an eyeful, yet small enough not to droop at all.
It was the kind of body that, under different circumstances, had I been as close to such a perfect one as this, I would have experienced an instant erection.
Erection?
On close examination, I realised that I was never going to be blessed, or cursed, by one of them again…..ever!
I smiled, it’s not very often that a dream comes true, and certainly not such a dream as this.
I pinched myself again, just to make doubly sure!
I explored the new me with my hands, enjoying the smooth feel of the silky skin and the firm, yet finely tuned muscles. As my hands passed over my breasts, I felt the nipples harden and a strange feeling emanated from my groin.
The exhilaration returned in such force that I had to clench my teeth together to prevent the laugh of pure joy from waking everyone up. The feelings I experienced were just so perfect and so wonderful, it was all I could do not to sing!
Putting aside these feelings and my early sexual awakenings, as I didn’t think I was ready for that quite yet, I ran through some warm up exercises. I had never experienced quite such a degree of flexibility and suppleness, ever. I managed to touch both palms on the floor in front of my toes without bending my knees. I then stood on my ‘bad’ leg raising my other leg straight up and held it.
I was amazed, for not only was I apparently fitter than ever, but all my marks and scars seemed to have vanished.
I smiled. The shock of my strange transition was wearing off. It was bloody strange being female, but so unspeakably wonderful. I also appreciated being given a fresh start. I started to laugh. How ironic this all was. Here I was, a fucked up military veteran, almost reaching his half-century with bugger all to show for his life. If there was a God, then he or she had a wicked sense of humour.
Was I supposed to crack up under the stress?
I chuckled.
No way!
As I flexed my recently rejuvenated body, luxuriating in being pain-free for the first time in years, I decided to enjoy this.
It dawned on me that while I was here, I was in danger. I needed to disappear, but I had to have some form of identity. I didn’t have a legal identity in keeping with my new persona, so that meant I had to get one. I had two choices.
One, I could contact the colonel and see if he could be persuaded to provide me with one, or two, I could let the state provide me with one. That way I could be free to follow my destiny without any restrictions from the past.
I had two dangers. The first was my fingerprints. I knew they were on file with the MOD. I prayed that they’d run them through as ‘female’, so there would be less likely to receive a match. I couldn’t be sure my fingerprints were still the same as before. If they’d changed, then there was one less thing to worry about. It was the same with dental records. I knew my teeth were hardly in an ideal shape, with crowns, caps and numerous fillings. I had no way of knowing whether these were improved along with everything else or not. What about my DNA? What would that show?
The second was if they went public with my tale. It wouldn’t take the bad guys long to figure out that the mysterious female was somehow connected to the mysterious male. It might cause them problems, but I couldn’t take the risk of hanging about to let them make the connection.
I decided to hold on, just to see what happened. I had no identity and no drivers licence so I was about as vulnerable as I could ever be. Apart from all the documents that allow people to exist, I also needed clothes and cash. I knew I could get into my flat and that I had a car parked somewhere. I hoped it hadn’t been reported abandoned and recovered by some efficient copper.
Feeling in two minds about my returned memory, I dozed for a while.
I awoke as the nurses changed shifts. I rang the bell and asked if it was okay to go to the loo as I knew they didn’t like me doing anything by myself for the time being.
I managed this routine operation with some degree of trepidation as I consciously used my new equipment for the first time - consciously. I’d managed the feat perfectly well before my memory returned, so why it was such an event, beats me. The actual mechanics were the same, except that I now had to wipe instead of shaking. The feelings were almost identical, albeit the arrangements were slightly different.
I looked at my reflection for some time. The face staring at me from the mirror was still a complete stranger to me. I looked nothing like the Robert Curtis I’d sort of come to know. Had you taken my old me, given me a complete sex change, then this would never have been the result, even if you’d spent £1,000,000 on plastic surgery. Although my basic skull shape remained the same, for I doubted that the device could have melted bone, the ‘fleshing’ out was completely different, so altering my appearance completely.
I could see why they thought I was Scandinavian, as my high cheekbones and general appearance were very Nordic. My almost white blonde hair added to that ideal, even though it was short. I remembered Annie Lennox’s period of shaven hair, and I smiled, as it did have a certain rough charm.
I smiled and the face smiled back, the rows of perfect white teeth gleaming. I opened my mouth and looked at the teeth. I must have had over fifteen fillings over the years. I’d lost three teeth altogether. One to rugby, one when I was drunk in Cyprus and got into a fight, and one I lost jumping out of an aeroplane over North Africa in the late eighties. Actually, it wasn’t the jumping, but the landing that was the problem.
All my teeth were present and correct, with not one filling in sight.
Weird!
I then had a chuckle. If my old team could see me now!
On returning to my room, I was given breakfast. I was hungry so ate everything. Then I stripped off and went through a series of exercises in the nude.
I heard a cough from the door. I stood up, sweat gleaming on my healthy body, completely naked and unashamed. Doctor Penshurst stood looking at me with his mouth slightly open.
“Good morning, doctor.”
“My God, you seem to be better today. Any memory returned?”