It was a clean probabilistic split, so they said. About 50% of the class had ended up sex swapped, 13 of the 24 students, with Ms.Haring, the teacher, and apparently one janitor remaining their original sex after being transformed. 6 of the changed students were girls, 6 were boys. The 13th was an outlier they didn't know how to classify. Apparently one of the changed was his best friend Edward who had ended up as a little Tinkerbelle. They would allow him to visit Ed in good time, it was just for everyone's safety that he was being quarantined for the moment, so they said. Most of the peoples transformed bodies could be explained by known biology, even if it was somewhat unique biology, but there were a few who's bodies could not be explained. He was among those few, or so they said.
"They" had said a lot of things recently, but Damien couldn't verify any of it. After that initial flash and the transformation event, everything was a blur. They had said these things to bring him some comfort, let him know he wasn't alone, but that didn't really change the fact that he was in a hospitals quarantine wing on an unknown military base in Virginia, sipping a... ahem.. "protein" shake.
Everyday they brought him standard fair hospital food. Corn. mashed potatoes. A loaf of something vaguely meat and flour based, topped by condiments that somehow tasted more bland than the loaf, but while Damien could eat it, and taste it, it never satisfied him. Thus the yogurt and protein smoothie. Just one was enough to tide him over for a day or two, which was good since his hunger was a little bit different than he was used to. Gone were the days of a rumbling stomach, replaced instead with rampant submissive lust. Damien grumbled at the memory of the discovery. He had practically thrown himself at the good doctor conducting his examination, reenacting a porno he'd pulled up on his phone late one night two weeks ago. The doctor, surprisingly was entirely receptive, and had to be pulled from the room by the nurses. All subsequent visits involved a gasmask, if not a full hazmat suit.
He popped the lid from the cup and stuck his dexterous black tongue into it, cleaning up every last bit of the shake from the bottom and sides of cup. He didn't know where it was sourced, nor did he particularly care. He had drank the first one with such a ravenous gusto that he had literally started chewing through the straw to get the droplets within. It was, quite frankly, the most delicious thing he'd drank every time he drank it. No hedonic treadmill took that enjoyment away from him. He picked at the cute little horn that poked out of his forehead as he pulled his tentacle like tongue back into his mouth. He was a bit embarrassed by how good it felt sliding past his plump black lips, and licked his lips, tongue, and chin to clean up any spilt shake just as much as for the pleasure of it.
With a sigh he plopped into the uncomfortable hospital chair by the bed, and brushed his long white hair back, letting his horns hold his bangs out of his face. He wiggled his tush and pulled his spade tail out between his unobstructed legs, and scratched his tit. Oh yeah. He was nude. He definitely could wear clothes, they were just crazy uncomfortable. Ok. That wasn't quite true. Wearing clothes just got him aroused. Panties and bra were tolerable. Jeans and a spaghetti strap top, he could deal with for a few hours, but a hoodie? God he was practically writhing in rippling waves of pleasure. Every tuft and fiber was a lascivious tongue teasing his body. Every seam was a bondage trap of bliss. You'd think it'd be fun, but it was more distracting than anything else. He'd just started going without clothes unless a visit was scheduled.
The nurses drew blood every morning. The doctors visited him daily in the afternoon to give him an update on the tests, and his mom would drop by in the evenings after work, but for now? there was no need for clothes. The curtains to his room were drawn and he was alone with his government procured PS5, one of the few perks of this whole predicament.
Right as he booted up the machine, there was a knock at his door. He grumbled and slipped into the panties and baggy white-T before a middle aged female doctor came in wearing a gas mask. The laminar decontamination chamber connected to the door of his room was turned off for a change, which Damien took as a good sign.
"How are we doing today Damien?" Dr. Elizabeth Kain asked with a muffled voice. Almost everyone who had visited him had been female after that initial incident, so Dr.Kain was now overseeing his treatment.
"You know," Damien shrugged, then stretched, absently pushing his voluminous breasts foreword against the white shirt stretching the fabric. "Still a succubus." He concluded with a smirk. He couldn't help but feel a strange satisfaction at harassing the good doctor like this. He read in one of his medical reports. "subconscious behavioral changes" but a lot of that was less subconscious than they knew.
"Ah. Yes." The doctor flustered despite being the same sex, and presumable straight. Dr. Kain's cheeks flushed, but she admirably maintained eye contact and continued. "Well we've made a discovery, and I have some good news."
"Yeah?" Damien asked suddenly interested. His tail began to sway gently.
"Firstly, we can confirm that the airborne emissions from your body are non-toxic. They are a more reactive chemical variant of known pheromones within the animal kingdom, which explains some of the unprofessional behavior you may have experienced from our staff." The doctor looked away. "I, Uhh, apologize once again."
Damien dismissed her apology. "Don't worry about it. I almost regret that they stopped us."
"Y-yes, I can imagine." The doctor cleared his throat. "Apparently the PPM in your vicinity increases the hungrier you are. It seems to be an involuntary physiological response. If we increase your shake intake, you should be able to reach levels that allow for normal interaction. Additionally simple anti-perspirant should help reduce the airborne particles."
Damien did perk up at this. "So I can leave?"
Elizabeth nodded, but instead of agreeing said. "We'll return to that point in a bit." Damien sighed his frustration and crossed his arms under his bust.
The doctor then passed Damien a bag. "After some additional tests, we've found that wearing clothing with smooth texture should be more tolerable for your skin. Inside are a variety of latex garments..." Damien rolled his eyes at how Elizabeth had said 'garments' but listened as she continued speaking. "... that you should be able to wear without discomfort. You can then wear more familiar clothes on top of that." Damien couldn't see the Elizabeth's face, but he could tell that she was smiling.
He reached out for the bag and responded somewhat curiously. "That's great... So... Jeans and a hoodie are back in the realm of possibility?
She nodded.
Damien raised an eyebow, "How did you figure all this out without testing it on me?"
"That... will also have to be discussed later." She admitted relucttnly, "I'll be back at 12 with some company. I'll make sure you've had a few more shakes, and perhaps we can meet face to face." The doctor put a comforting hand on Damien's shoulder and said. "We're really getting this figured out. Just hang on a little longer."
Damien just scrunched up her lips to the side and responded with a dismissive. "Yeah. Sure."
