I pulled back the covers and went to the closet. Then I took the clothes and the purse with me into the bathroom at the back of the room.
I closed the door and set everything to the side, then I looked at myself in the mirror. I had the same face that was from the ID card. It was eerie, knowing that the woman I saw before me would be me, probably for the rest of my life. I suddenly wondered who she was. And I felt sorry for her. Someone as beautiful as her shouldn't have to become a vegetable. But then I began to wonder if she even was a vegetable. Sure, the two doctors that pulled me from cryo stasis said that she was brain dead. But I only had their word that that's what happened. There was something really hinky about those two. The way I felt about them, I wouldn't be surprised if they just grabbed this woman and used her, whether she was brain dead or not. That thought sent a chill down my spine. My new female spine.
I took the hospital gown off and paused a moment to stare. I couldn't help but fall in love with myself. The body those two doctors gave me was incredibly sexy. I didn't know how I could function with a body like that. I'd constantly be checking myself out, even during inappropriate situations.
I lifted my right hand to my right breast and gently squeezed, feeling a jolt of pleasure run through my body. It was the same feeling I had before. And it felt great.
Then my gaze drifted towards my crotch. It was so strange not to see a penis hanging from there. I'd have to get used to that.
I took my left hand and touched myself there. Then I stuck two of my fingers inside of myself. The pleasure I received was so incredible that a couple of loud moans escaped my lips. And they were loud enough for someone to notice.
I heard a knock on the door and the nurse's voice. "Ms. Robinson? Are you okay in there?"
Thinking quickly, I said "Uh, yeah. I'm just ... going to the bathroom."
"Okay," she said.
I looked back at myself in the mirror, then placed my hands on the sink. I had to get a hold of myself. I'd have plenty of time to explore this body later. Right now I had to get dressed and find out where I was and exactly how long I was out.
I put on the underwear. The bra first, then the panties. They fit perfectly, like they really belonged to this woman. (And they probably did.) And then I put on the white blouse, which hugged my body tightly. It was something a business woman would wear, but it was also made to accentuate the best parts of the female body. The black miniskirt was the same way.
The last thing were the shoes. I looked down at the four-inch heels and wondered how I would ever be able to walk in them. But I couldn't walk out of the hospital barefoot. People might have thought there was something wrong with me. So, hesitantly, I placed my feet into the shoes and stood in front of the sink, looking at myself in the mirror.
I looked like a professional. But a professional what? The shoes helped to make me look taller and the clothes helped to make me look important and sexy. But it didn't help me figure out who this woman was, or who those two doctors were trying to make me be. Remember that the ID in the purse showed me to be Erica Robinson. I doubt that was the woman's name, since my own was Eric Robinson. No, whoever made up that ID obviously gave me a new identity.
I looked once more at the ID and noticed that my place of residence was different. I thought that maybe that should be the first place I should go to figure out what happened to me. If I could.
