Dec 1999

He used his right arm to support the weight of his body in the walker. This freed his left hand to push up the thick glasses that perpetually slid down his nose. He inched closer to the reclined figure draped with a sheet in front of him. His Oxygen bottle, on a small cart beside him followed his movement and bumped into the leg of the walker. Jason MacFarlane was a man not accustomed to failure and right now his aged body was failing him. He hoped to soon remedy that situation. For the past fifteen years he had spent millions of both his own money and his conglomerate's money to get to this stage. He had watched as the figure on the table grew from infancy to its present status, on the cusp of womanhood. To date he had authorized the clandestine 'abduction' of sixteen homeless and destitute persons to conduct the experimental transfers. The men and women were 'escorted' in. At the end of the day only half of them emerged, changed completely from what and how they had arrived. Those that had received the transfer had survived. Those that did not were disposed of discretely. Over a year of observation of these living cast-offs, showed that the changes would not damage them physically. There were behavioral changes, however, but that was the purpose of the project.

Jason MacFarlane looked at the lab technician. He smiled to himself. He had coerced Steven Post into this job using blatant blackmail. If one thing positive could be said about Jason MacFarlane, it was that he was thorough. He had had his cronies dig up substantial amounts of dirt about Steve. The most damaging Steve perceived to be was the threat that he would expose Steve as a cross dresser, transvestite and a closet homosexual. Fifteen years ago this was a substantial threat to his future. Despite this coercion, Steve had always been very well paid, at least fifteen percent higher than he could be making anywhere else. He had checked. Originally it had not his choice to work Mr. MacFarlane. The initial offer had been good, but the threat of destroying his reputation with the scientific community was the impetus to work for Old Mac. Fourteen years ago, the all too conservative science community would more than likely have frowned upon an upstart research scientist like Steve if they did not conform to the 'mold'. But from the outset he and MacFarlane knew that he was the right man for the job. In the intervening years his pay and perks had become better, but the threat of complete discreditation and the somewhat more readily accepted sexual preferences difference would probably prevent him from ever working in the research field again.

Jason looked again at the female, prepubescent clone lieing on the table. Clone hooked up to the CRAY # 1 computer. This powerful computer literally was the life support system for the clone. Shifts in the hormonal balances had delayed the onset of many of the aspects of puberty. The CRAY # 2, remained forever vigilant incase it had to step into the breach to back-up or replace the CRAY #1.

The programming and changes they would effect on the clone would take place over the next twenty four hours. That was the only reason that Old Mac was here a full day before the transfer. "OK, Let's get on with this, I have a business to run today and the sooner we get started, the sooner we can make the transfer." "Yes, sir." Steve replied. "Sit here, Mr. MacFarlane." Jason struggled with his crippled body and flopped into an overstuffed office chair. Then both men were looking at the array of screens and the generated images indicating the various life support and organ status screens. Steve looked at a sheaf of papers and said, " I've programmed the changes you requested. All I need to start the genetic alteration program is the password to the execute file."

Jason looked down the list; gender - female, hair colour - light ash blonde, eye colour - deep blue/green, height - five foot, nine inches tall, estimated average weight upon completion - 125 lbs. . . .every thing seemed to be in order. "What's this?" he asked Steve, repeatedly stabbing his finger at a line on the page. "Metabolic rate, sir, set faster than the average. That will allow you to maintain your current caloric intake without storing the surplus." Jason grunted but did not comment on the assumption that Steve had just made. Steve looked at Jason, waiting for the usual rebuff that came with comments about the clone being for Old Man. Nothing happened. The Old Man squinted at the split screen asked, "What's the bust size again?" Steve took back the papers from him and quickly flipped through them. "Sir, you selected a size of about an A cup. A total tissue and fat volume of approximately one hundred sixty cubic centiliters." Jason was watching the slowly revolving figures on the screen. The image on the left represented the current status of the clone while the image on the right represented the projected changes. Pert, small breasts were evident on the right image.

The figures on the table and on the screens had small pert A cup size breasts. Steve looked at the monitor and noticed the statistical ratio of the breasts fell exactly on the average for an A cup. It indicated that two-thirds was made up of structural components of ducts and fifteen lobules and the remaining one-third of each breast was comprised of fatty tissue. He increased the quantity of lobules to seventeen and the ratio changed to three to one, with no change in volume. He adjusted the ratio back to the three to two and the breasts increased in size to about 180 cc's each.

"Change it to something bigger. Try C cup." Steve pulled the help desk window on the monitor and typed 'BREASTS, SIZE'. The computer screen flashed up a template. SIZE, RIGHT SIDE:_180_ CC'S, SIZE, LEFT SIDE:_180_ CC'S, SHAPE - ANATOMICAL, _X_ - ROUND, ___. Steve highlighted the '180's' and changed then to '350'. A smaller window appeared below titled 'TEAT, SIZE'. Description of the areolae and nipple width, thickness and length appeared. Making no changes on that window, he clicked in "CANCEL' and the window disappeared. He increased the quantity of lobules to the biological maximum of twenty. With the increase in fatty tissue, the ratio changed to two to three. He hit the 'ENTER' key and a window popped up requesting a username and Password. He entered 'S_POST' and 'POST_IT'. Upon tapping the 'ENTER' key, the image on the right metamorphosed to display larger breasts and the help window disappeared.

Jason pushed up his glasses and grunted "Bigger." Steve brought up the helpdesk again and changed the 350's to 500's. The ratio changed to three - seven. Through the authorization screen and finally he tapped the 'ENTER' key and the image on the right metamorphosed to display full D cup breasts.

"That'll do." Jason grumbled.

A 'ping' from the CRAY # 1, and a warning on screen, reminded Steve that it was time to replace an IV bag. He rose and extracted two large IV packs and hung them from the IV tree by the clone. Within seconds he had attached them to the clone. A series of separate IV drips ran from the console of the computer, dripping at various rates. One with blue tubing was noticeably turned off. He opened the stopcock. He adjusted the 'helmet' on the clone'.

"All set, Sir." Steve said, returning to the console where Jason still sat. Steve watched as Jason, fully aware but not bothered by of Steve's observation typed 'JAY_MACF.EXE'.

The Computer screen showed a pop-up window, which said 'GENETIC DOWNLOAD COMMENCING.' Liquid now began flowing down the blue tube. This phase was the most time consuming part of the whole operation. The genetic code of the clone was now in the process of changing. Although the complete changes would take up to a week at the accelerated pace, most of the external physical changes would be finished in a little over 24 hours.

Jason got up to leave. The Oxygen bottle clanked against the leg of the walker. He struggled to remain erect in the foot and one half that separated the chair from the walker. Steve helped him to remain standing and to steady himself in the walker. He began to shuffle his way to the exit and the turned his head to look back at Steve. "When the physical changes of the face are done, take a picture of the face from the neck up. Call Security to pick up the cameras and film immediately."

Steve had to change the large IV bags every three hours. Over time the sheet draped over the clone became wet with sweat wherever it rested on the reclined figure. Slowly, but minutely visible, the breasts began to swell. Because Jason had dramatically increased the bust size at the last minute, what changes that would have been lost due to the smaller increase were now obvious.

* * * * * *

Steve awoke, still slumped in his large comfortable desk chair. He looked over at the clone. Two large breasts created twin white peaks on the white landscape of the sheet. He arose and shuffled over to the reclined 'woman'. He could call it that now. He lifted the sheet and looked at the resting figure. The flawless face could take the rest of this being into the movies, onto the catwalks, any beauty contest. Anywhere that 'looks' were the driving force. Steve had to admit that the 'dirty-old-man' MacFarlane certainly knew how to pick them and that he had truly created the face of a modern goddess. The glaze of perspiration only served to accentuate the flawlessly smooth nature of the skin.

He cast a slow sweeping glance at the rest of the 'package'. His gaze stopped at the plump firm tit flesh that had exploded onto the once barren flat chest. The smooth flesh rose in an almost perfect half sphere. The half globes were capped with a slightly darker areola. Looking like they were covered with oil, he realized the magnificent pair were also sweat soaked. The sheet, as thin as it was, had been providing minimal amounts of insulation. The sudden draft created by the removal of the sheet made the teats reacted to the sudden chill and before his eyes they expanded from tiny nubs into nipples half the size of his thumb.

Further down, a tight belly, a soft thatch of tawny hair at the junction of two long, toned legs. Between Jason and himself, they had created what could be one of the world's most beautiful women. At least from the physical standpoint. Personality and temperament remained to be seen. Having worked for miserable Jason for the past fourteen years, Steve could fathom a reasonable guess at what they would be by the time the project was complete. A stern stubborn bitch personality with a powderkeg temperament, just like the Old Man.

He walked over to his desk and withdrew from the bottom drawer a camera that Old Mac had sent down to the lab two weeks before. With the strap of the camera around his neck he dragged a stepping stool from the far side of the lab over to the table with the girl on it. Climbing to the top of the ladder, he focused the camera and took six pictures. Next, standing on the table, straddling the 'woman' he repeated the procedure. Six of the photos would appear to be taken just off center and the second set of six, straight on. All would obviously be with the eyes closed. She looked just like she was asleep. Steve, however knew better. He looked at the clock; six hours to go before it would be safe to begin Phase Two.

He buzzed Security and told them to come and fetch the camera. He was surprised that Security Guard asked him how come he was so late in calling them. They had been expecting his call hours earlier.

The Security guard came and went. Steve sat at the console of CRAY # 1 and looked at the split screen representations of the 'woman'. They were now identical. Small text flashed at the bottom of the screen, 'TRANSFORMATION COMPLETE.' After this particular operation was complete, Steve would be out of a job. Jason would see to that, as he would no longer have need for Steve's services. One did not become a multi millionaire by giving away money. He pulled up the chair and sat in front of the console. He was going to fix Jason with an everlasting memory of Steve and his work. It was payback time. Nothing overly drastic, just a blatant reminder of the resentment that Steve felt towards the tartar. He brought up the Breast Size Template again. He changed the volumes: SIZE, RIGHT SIDE:_2,500_ CC'S, SIZE, LEFT SIDE:_2,500_ CC'S and left the rest of that screen unchanged. The ratio of fibrous breast tissue to fatty tissue changed to the absurd ratio of one to sixteen. He hit the 'ENTER' key and again the window requesting a username and Password appeared. He entered 'J_MACFARLANE' and tried 'JAY_MACF'. He hit the 'ENTER' key and the image on the right began a remarkable breast expansion "Hot Damn, it worked." he muttered under his breath. Larger breasts dominated the figure on the right. Next he needed to authorize the commencement of the changes. Steve's typed 'JAY_MACF.EXE' and smiled to himself. 'That old bugger's in for the surprise of his life.' he thought as he watched the visual transformation. The Computer screen showed a pop-up window, which said 'GENETIC DOWNLOAD COMMENCING.' He chuckled to himself at the image of this woman with tits the size of beach balls trying to run this company. Standing at the head of the boardroom table with the collection of cronies and hanger-ons that Old Mac retained, with bloated breasts. The thought warmed him.

Doing some quick mental calculations, he figured that the actual changes to the clone would not become obviously evident until hours after the transfer was complete. Steve turned off the monitor that depicted the woman with the massive chest upholstery. 'No need taking any risks of Old man Mac seeing that.' He returned to his chair and promptly dozed off to sleep.

The beeping of the alarm in his wristwatch awoke Steve. Groggily he got to his feet and went to the computer consoles to check on the status. He knew that every thing would be fine since warning buzzers screamed if anything even started to go wrong and it had been his watch not the computer that had awakened him. A cursory check of the vital signs and status of the physical transformation all appeared normal. He walked to the 'woman' on the table and what he saw started to bring beads of sweat to his forehead. The breasts were visibly larger than when they were five and a half hours earlier when he had changed the 'program'. Surely Jason would notice the changes. He lifted the sheet. The tits were too big for Old Mac not to notice. They exploded from the slender frame, prominently defying gravity. He looked at his watch. There was only about ten minutes before Jason arrived for the beginning of phase two.

* * * * * *

Steve swallowed hard as Jason MacFarlane walked into the lab his oxygen tank trailing behind him like a lovesick puppy. A minute before the console had began emitting a steady succession of 'pings' and the status monitor flashed, 'CLONING COMPLETED.' Jason shuffled with his walker over to Steve's desk. Steve released a large sigh of relief. Usually Old Mac made a beeline to the clone. Steve had forgotten that routine. As luck would have it Jason had something else on his mind.

"Good morning Mr. MacFarlane." Steve said as nicely as he could. A gruff mumbled "Morning." was the reply. The Old Man continued, "Is everything ready?" Steve could only raise and 'Uhuh." "Steve," Jason continued, "I will need you to witness my signature on a few documents. I haven't had the chance to get these done before today."

Jason spread out a few documents on the desk and began to sign each in turn. As Old Mac was signing, Steve glanced at the documents over the Old Man's shoulder. He did not want to appear to be too nosy, but he did want to have some idea of what he was about to sign as a witness. Paper clipped to the cover of the file folder were a Driver's License and Birth Certificate. One of the pictures that he had taken six hours earlier had been laminated into the first forged document. He noticed that the eyes had been doctored to appear open. The name read Stephanie MacFarlane, age nineteen. Old enough to inherit everything, lock-stock-and-barrel and young enough that any last minute programming changes and some of the slower changes could be attributed to a late burst of puberty driven hormones. No doubt that over the years Old Mac had used some of his IT hackers to place obvious tid-bits of history in the usual government, school and miscellaneous other computer databases. For example, the Driver's License section had records dating back four years, including the issuing of the License. Jason was that thorough. Steve had figured years ago that Old Mac had commissioned the clone for himself, but the Old Man had steadfastly denied it for years. The sheaf of papers was almost as much proof as Steve would ever need to confirm that suspicion. The Old Man had been lying to everyone all along.

Steve had his turn to sign the sheaf of papers. He was able to discern a letter to the Old Man's attorney, his banker, a nasty one to his twenty nine year old ex-wife and the content of this last caused Steve to raise his eyebrows in surprise. With his signature, Steve witnessed Old Mac's Will and Last Testament that would transfer just a little less than five hundred million dollars in company stock, and personal wealth to the 'woman', now called Stephanie, on the table behind them.

'Think fast, Stevie,' he said to himself. 'If Old Mac sees the girl's chest, he'll call it all off and I'll be dead meat.' "Sir, for your own safety during the transfer, it would be advisable to do it without your glasses." Jason grunted and struggled to free a hand to remove the glasses. Once done, he passed them to Steve. Inwardly Steve released a big sigh. The old bugger was as blind as a bat and wouldn't be able to see a wall if he was leaning against it with his forehead. Gently, Steve helped the Old Man to a second table, next to the one with the 'Stephanie' on it. With substantial maneuvering, Steve pushed, pulled, dragged and shoved Jason onto the table.

A fifteen minutes later Steve had Jason connected to the CRAY # 1 computer. The stress was beginning tell on Old Mac. He was no longer his usual 'friendly' self. He was worse. Jason, in a raspy voice issued one last statement to Steve. "This better work or I'll reach out from my grave and personally kill you. Now start the damn sequence." "Yes sir." was all that Steve could mumble.

* * * * * *

Steve began the sequence to wipe clean every trace of information from Jason MacFarlane's mind. The console monitor had the warning message 'FILE DOWNLOAD IN PROGRESS'. The computer program, although highly sophisticated, could not distinguish between memories, feelings, logical processes or life support functions. This process could accurately be called an electronic lobotomy since the final result at the end of the process would be that all of the brain's 'programmed files' would be wiped clean and in effect moved into the powerful CRAY # 1. The program worked on the premise that the brain would start to die from lack of oxygen after as little as six minutes. By starting with the information stored at the top of the brain, the theory was that most of the download would be complete before the computer began 'removing' the life support 'files' and effectively removing the life sustaining impulses that controlled breathing, respiration, pulse etc.

For thirty five minutes Steve watched as the size of the file containing the life of Jason MacFarlane as it steadily grew larger. A muted 'ping' denoted the end of the process. The message 'TRANSFER OF FILE J-MACF COMPLETE TO CRAY # 1.' Steve looked over to MacFarlane's body and watched as the last breath escaped the dead lungs. He looked at the screen again. The message was still prominently displayed. He keyed in 'TRANSFER'. A window opened up and displayed the only file in that particular folder. File 'JAY_MACF. A cursor flashed in the only blank spot on the screen. The arrow was darkened, indicating a choice. Steve clicked on the arrowhead and the choices CRAY # 2, A:/, C:/ and Clone Remote:/ appeared.

Steve turned to look at the 'clone', Stephanie. Her tits were bigger than they had been only a few minutes earlier. He recall the last thing the Old Man had said, "This better work or I'll reach out from my grave and personally kill you." He looked at the flashing cursor and swallowed hard. Struck with an idea, he quickly he dashed to the desk and reread all of the documents in the file. A contingency plan to have Steve hunted down and basically reduced to the mentality of a kumquat was there and duly cross-referenced. With this equipment, it was entirely possible.

He reread the Will and the details of the transfer of the approximately five hundred million dollars. He looked back to the monitor, awaiting the last two keystrokes to begin the final transfer and then to 'Stephanie' with still larger jugs. This sight and the written threats in the files spurred him to action. Steve sat in his chair at computer and began reprogramming the routing to download files. Very carefully he rechecks the routing. 'Perfect.'

He walked over to Stephanie. Lifting the sheet, he looked down at the large set. He guestimated that they were already two thirds of the way to their finished size of two and one half Liters in volume each. Gently with his index finger he pressed the malleable flesh. Warm, almost hot to the touch, the breast meat was firm and inviting. He grabbed the breast nearest to him and gave it an exploratory squeeze. The aerolae responded to his touch and rapidly filled with blood, becoming turgid. Everything about them had more than tripled in size from the last time he lifted the sheet to look seven hours earlier.

He felt something that he had not felt in years. Arousal - generated by a woman! He removed the retraining straps on her arms, hands, legs and feet. As he undressed he could not decide just what the motivation for these actions were. Ultimately he realized that regardless of whether the transfer worked or not, this would be the last time he would be able to drive his Cadillac into the garage. If it did not work, Old Mac would likely have him tracked down and killed or he would be dead as a result of the transfer anyway. If the transfer worked, the new girl Old Mac hopefully would awaken pregnant and Steve could give his parents the grandchild that they'd given up on over ten years ago.

Steve gently spread the legs of the comatose woman. Pushing aside the feelings of guilt, the questionable grounds of rape, the shadows of doubts and hints of necrophelia, he entered her. Her warm flesh was inviting and he grabbed, kissed, nibbled and sucked. He even surprised himself by remaining iron rod rigid for as long as he did. No feelings of guilt about not pleasing this woman, with a clear mind focused only on self gratification he rammed into this sex doll over and over. When the levee broke, a tidal wave of his seed filled the sleeping beauty.

Slowly he dressed, warmed by the afterglow of the sex. He took a cloth and gently cleaned the 'mess' he had made on the outside of 'Stephanie". As a last act, he draped the sheet over his lover. He now had a job to do, and he became 'all business' again. He checked the console - everything within normal range. He checked the fittings on 'Stephanie' to ensure that she was ready for the transfer. He then began the process of connecting himself to CRAY # 2. 'It was so much easier to do this to others.' he thought, adjusting the crucial fit of the helmet. After twenty five minutes everything was ready.

He presses icon for 'TRANSFER'. Steve watched the computer screen. Gradually he realized that he was struggling to make sense of the words on the screen. Almost immediately after that he was struggling to remembering individual letters. His eyes become unfocused, but he didn't care, or did he? (He who?)

* * * * * *

Stephanie opened her eyes. Slowly, for the first time ever, they focused. She looked up to the ?? ceiling. 'That's what it's called.' A sudden gasp. She was now breathing on her own! Memories came flooding in. Happy times with family, unhappy times, times of illness and of health. Favourite foods! And, 'Where am I?' and 'Oh, yea! That's who I am.' Thoughts and thought patterns were gradually being established. Stephanie slowly raised her head and gently looked around. First, at the table next to her. 'Still there, OK, where's the other one gone to?' She looked in the other direction and saw the body of Steve, slumped in his chair, looking like he was asleep. This triggered a quick, happy thought. 'It worked.' She looked up at the screen on CRAY # 2. It confirmed her thoughts. 'DIRECT TRANSFER COMPLETE'. Stephanie felt out of sorts and still somewhat disorientated as the pattern, configuration and organization of the brain, thought processes and the links between them and between the memories, life support systems and the like established themselves. 'Did any thing else happen?' She looked the console of CRAY # 1. 'TRANSFER OF FILE J-MACF COMPLETE TO CRAY # 1.' still flashed on the screen.

Giggling, Stephanie MacFarlane, 'I'll have to get used to that name!' released the remaining restraining straps and carefully removed the assortment of tubes that had sustained her body from it's inception fifteen years ago. She stepped down from the table. She felt a strength and unharnessed power that she had not felt in the other body. She appraised her body. Tightly muscled, her smooth, soft skin slid like silk across the bunching bands of fiber below the surface. The perspective was very different. Even if she had had all of the money that Jason had had, she, as Steve could not possibly have had enough money to transform Steve into the being she was now. No amount of plastic surgery would have been able to change him to her with the results she now possessed. She reached up to test the firm round globes that wobbled slightly with each movement. It felt very strange manhandling the breasts, her breasts, as only an hour ago they had not belonged to her. Looking down at the huge expanse of sweater meat that had ballooned from her chest. She felt the warmth and tightness of the still expanding jugs. There was slight pain as the skin stretched to accommodate the steadily increasing volume of fat. The feeling excited her and she felt the leaking of current herself and her past self mixing and oozing from her love canal. Everything felt wonderful, unlike anything she had ever experienced and better than she had ever imagined it would be. Rubbing the faintly evident chords of muscle that lined her belly, she thought 'Yes, it would be good to be pregnant.'

An alarm from CRAY # 1 brought her back to the reality of the moment. An error message appeared on the screen. 'CLONE REMOTE:/ - DEVICE NOT READY, RETRY, CANCEL' 'First things first.' she said to herself and she ignored the computer. Stephanie sat at Steve's/her desk and began to add her signature to all of the documents. With that done she was now a multi millionaire, owner of the Corporation and its new CEO. 'I'll fire all of his cronies, every last one.' There was one detail remaining. She walked over to the CRAY # 1 and clicked on 'CANCEL'. The original message reappeared. 'TRANSFER OF FILE J-MACF COMPLETE TO CRAY # 1.'

Giggling, She extends her slender index finger and pressed 'DELETE'. Response on screen 'ARE YOU SURE THAT YOU WANT TO DELETE FILE J-MACF, YES, NO.' Stephanie hesitated. "When I leave here I think I'll go out and put on a dress," she said to the computer, "and I guess it really won't matter who you tell now, now will it, Old Mac." She giggled to herself, punch drunk from the turn of events. A light tap on 'Y' key and the computer screen showed, 'FILE DELETED'. The giggling broke into a full, hearty laugh.

"Oops." was all she could say. :-)