[Renovation] Completed

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

Section 1. 2025.
Los Angeles, Second District Court.
"Robert
J. Wood, the prosecution charges you with illegal possession of a deadly weapon, malicious assault, and **.
After deliberation by this court and the jury, you are unanimously found guilty on the aforementioned charges.
Under the new law, you will be sentenced to 20 years in prison or three months of behavioral rehabilitation to reform your current life.
Under the new law, you have the right to choose one of the punishments. Which do you choose?" "20 years and three months, even an idiot knows how to choose.
" I chuckled inwardly. "I choose behavioral rehabilitation,
" I replied to the judge.
"I'm glad I have this choice.
" "Very good. There will be dedicated personnel to supervise your rehabilitation. Once your behavioral rehabilitation is completed, you can return to a normal life.
Your punishment is, to some extent, linked to your victim. Your current crime is something you would never dream of doing in the future, because it's impossible.
" I didn't know why the judge was saying this to me.
Yes, I knew that new legal procedures had been enacted not long ago, but the specifics were not something someone like me cared about.
In my view, the so-called behavioral rehabilitation was nothing more than spending some time in a special kind of prison.
On the transport vehicle were about 20 convicted criminals, including myself, who were going to be punished. Among them were Black, White, Hispanic, and Asian people; besides the majority of men, there were even three women.
What we had in common was that we had all assaulted victims and committed sexual crimes.
We had been told that we would undergo 90 days of behavioral rehabilitation, after which we would be released, but any non-cooperation during this period would only result in death—a new punishment program unknown to the outside world.
The transport vehicle's destination was a prison in the center of a place called "Death Valley," a very harsh environment where, even if you successfully escaped, it was impossible to return alive to society.
Upon arriving at the prison, as I expected, although we were serious offenders, I didn't see the towering walls and barbed wire fences typical of prisons, nor did I see the imposing, high-speed metal gates.
The security here was quite lax.
We were led to a room, and I looked around to find that the windows had no safety measures in place to prevent escapes. Any reasonably normal person could escape through the window.
After being examined by the prison doctor, we were assigned prison clothing.
Since it was summer, the female prisoners received crew-neck t-shirts and other matching clothes, while we men only had a vest, shorts, and a towel.
Then we were assigned to our respective roommates. My roommate didn't look like a criminal at all; he looked frail, more like a con artist than a violent thug.
"Good luck,
" I thought to myself, "This guy is like an ant compared to an elephant.
I'm confident I can find a way to turn him into my sex slave, so I won't be bored for these 90 days.
" But I had no idea what would happen to the two of us sharing the room, and of course, I had no idea that my mind would fundamentally change.
After we had settled our assigned supplies, it was lunchtime.
All the prisoners were led to a large hall to eat.
Here, although there were guards watching us, they were completely ineffective.
The prisoners in the hall talked loudly and noisily, but the guards ignored them completely.
I didn't speak to the prisoners, but from their conversations, I learned that almost all of them had been brought to this prison in the last two days, and without exception, they were all convicted of serious crimes.
The food provided by the prison was quite good; both the taste and variety made me feel comfortable.
The only thing that bothered me was that the prison only gave us 15 minutes to eat. Of course, while the time was a bit tight for me, it was enough to fill my stomach.
Because of the limited time, no fights or anything like that happened.
After eating, my roommate and I were led by the guards to our assigned rooms.
The room was about 15 square meters. In a small corner of the room was a toilet, next to which was a wall mirror and a sink.
In the center of the right wall of the room, there was a large, sturdy-looking dressing mirror.
There was also a small desk in the room; apart from the lack of a television, I felt like I was at home.
But soon my roommate and I started feeling drowsy. Sitting on the bed, before I could even react, I collapsed onto the bed, wide awake, and fell asleep.
I realized that someone had drugged my lunch.
When I woke up, I found a booklet on the bed with instructions and procedures for the so-called "behavioral modification."
While we were asleep, controllers that controlled our sensory nerves had been implanted in our stomachs and behind our ears.
If we misbehaved, the guards would trigger the controllers to inflict maximum pain as punishment.
Then, they injected 47,000,000 nanobots into our bloodstream. These robots were programmed with tasks and plans to perform, and would automatically destroy themselves after completing their 90-day mission.
[Website address: ******************] If I had known what this "behavioral modification" was from the beginning, I would have tried everything to escape.
But there are no "what ifs" now. When I fell asleep in bed and woke up to see this booklet, it was too late to change anything.
Once inside our bloodstream, the nanobots immediately began working according to their pre-programmed tasks.
They started disrupting our body's nerves and chemical reactions, building new ones, and reversing our hormones to produce new ones.
The nanobots worked tirelessly 24 hours a day, altering not only our thoughts and bodies, but also all our biochemical structures, including the tiny atoms in the DNA and RNA that make up our chromosomes.
Meanwhile, drugs to keep us calm were always included in our food.
Sensors implanted in our bodies, once they detected that we had entered a deep sleep, would input pre-programmed subconscious information into our minds.
These subconscious messages are formulated by the judge based on our individual crimes, and the dreams they form are used to reshape our behavior.
When the behavioral reform is complete, most of this punishment is like a school course, not particularly painful.
Reform 1-2: Every Monday here, all of us "criminals" are gathered together.
Initially, everyone is terrified and uneasy after learning what has happened to us, but everyone knows resistance is futile, and as time goes on, they become calm.
But we don't realize that our subconscious is slowly changing our behavior.
A psychologist then appears before us, guiding us to understand the severity of our past crimes and telling us how we can become well-behaved citizens who contribute to society after this behavioral reform.
She tells us that we are already undergoing this change and will soon see results.
When I sat down in front of her, I noticed that the first thing I did was to draw my legs together.
Why…? I felt the world around me gradually becoming unfamiliar, and in the following time, I became increasingly confused.
Roy, my roommate, is someone I find strangely unaware of having taken any action against, instead maintaining a friendly relationship with him.
In our third week here, the prison staff confiscated our vests, replacing them with crew-neck t-shirts only girls wear.
What I don't understand is that I simply asked them why, then calmly sat down and accepted their arrangement without doing anything else.
Every morning when we woke up and looked in the mirror, we noticed subtle changes compared to the day before.
I quickly concluded that I looked like my sister Jenny.
If a man's appearance makes him look like a girl no matter what others think, that's definitely a bad thing.
Yes, I admit this situation is beyond my control, and for me, it's not a big problem; the sky isn't falling.
About a month later, I finally understood what this so-called "rehabilitation" was all about.
Next, they gave Roy and me a bra, taught us how to wear it, and then required us to wear it all the time except when showering.
Oh my God! When I heard them say that, I finally understood what the judge had told me in court: "Your punishment is, to some extent, linked to your victims. Your current crimes will be things you never even dream of doing again, because they are impossible.
" They were changing us, turning us into women! How were they going to do that? By relying on those little things that entered our bloodstream? As punishment for those crimes, had they always done this before? To prevent a thief's hand from stealing again, would they cut off the thief's hand? By the same token, would they turn a female rapist into a eunuch? The guards started calling us "Miss," and if we objected to their address and cursed them, they only needed to press that damned controller in their hands to inflict maximum pain, so we quickly gave in.
Nanobots were growing our hair, and our nails were growing to the perfect woman's standard.
They were disrupting the proportions of our bones and muscles, reshaping our body shape and physique, stimulating the mammary glands in our breasts and redistributing body fat there, causing our breasts to swell at an astonishing rate.
They eliminated the prominent Adam's apple on our throats, restructured our skulls, teeth, tongues, and bones.
And subconsciously, they instilled in us the knowledge of how to apply makeup as women.
After 30 days, I had shrunk from 5'6" to 5'2", lost a full 40 pounds, and was horrified to discover that even my strength had become incredibly weak without my noticing.
I screamed hysterically. Although it was my choice, this was not the outcome I wanted, yet after screaming, I had to accept my fate.
I felt myself gradually becoming someone I didn't even recognize.
Roy, on the other hand, seemed very calm, as if he had already understood everything that was happening.
To me, he seemed quite happy with this change. Oh God, maybe that's just how he is. Perhaps I should call him "she"? Seeing the changes happening to Roy, I didn't want to, but it was hard not to think of myself.
Roy's thoughts and actions were becoming more and more feminine every day.
I can now see his long legs and increasingly full hips, and his hands, which are gradually becoming thinner and more feminine.
Roy is like a reference point for me; the strong, masculine body is slowly disappearing from him, revealing a delicate, feminine one.
Time seems to fly by in my mind; a month has passed quickly, and Roy and I are now quite comfortable in our bras and stockings.
Now, I try to avoid looking in the mirror because it makes me feel incredibly uneasy.
Roy's and my voices have also begun to become higher and sharper to varying degrees, making it sound like two girls talking when we speak to each other.
And when I'm allowed to use the phone to talk to people I know outside, they no longer recognize me at all.
I can't imagine that I could produce such a sweet, lovely, almost singing girl's voice, but now, it is undeniably my voice.
I witnessed Roy's transformation. Her bra could no longer fully conceal her mature, firm breasts, and a deep cleavage was gradually forming between her high, soft chest.
If I were still the same man I used to be, her attraction to me would be irresistible.
But I knew the same changes were happening to myself, so I had no interest in doing anything.
Finally, without knowing why or what I felt, I suddenly longed for the same changes to happen to me as Roy had. So I went to the mirror and began to look at myself.
As I had expected, the same changes were happening to me.
I saw that I was shorter and more petite than before, still just as delicate and alluring. Yes, the mirror reflected a very attractive young girl.
A small mirror for makeup now sat on the desk, along with some appropriate cosmetics.
Roy and I used them, and although I was a little embarrassed to say it, I still have to admit that I enjoyed experimenting with these cosmetics on my face.
In our second month there, they started a new course—appearance and grooming.
We started learning a systematic makeup procedure and practiced what we learned on each other's faces.
By this time, I had gradually begun to enjoy this life and was happy to ask the makeup artists for advice on how to do makeup. Of course, I preferred them to demonstrate on my face, because they were experts in this field, and their work could make me more beautiful.
The nanobots were doing some interesting work, removing all birthmarks, moles, freckles, and scars from my skin, whether congenital or acquired.
You know, one of my front teeth was chipped in a fight when I was little, but now I found that my tooth was perfectly intact.
In the second section, I glanced in the mirror by chance and saw a beautiful girl reflected in it.
Yes, that's how I would describe myself; she (I) was so charming, even though it was just a behavioral modification procedure.
I felt like I was gradually becoming a twin version of my sister Jenny.
Okay, if that's really the case, the worst thing is that I'll only have to face those boys from now on.
I felt no surprise or aversion. My sister Jenny has many beautiful clothes, so I think she wouldn't mind sharing them with me after we went out, since I don't have any girls' clothes in my wardrobe.
When the grooming class started, we were each given various women's blouses, coats, long skirts, and stockings.
We were required to wear them all the time, except when we were sleeping, and our shoes had been replaced with various high heels.
Yes, even at breakfast, we had to wear women's bras and underwear, women's nightgowns, and high-heeled slippers.
Now, in the dining hall, it was clear that everyone's transformation was so obvious.
From wolfing down our food before, we now ate with elegant, small bites.
Of course, except for the first day, the guards no longer restricted our mealtimes.
I see this as our consciousness gradually developing in a more feminine direction under our increasingly changed bodies.
In our rooms, they provided us with all our changes of clothes, and of course, whether it was outerwear or pajamas, they were all women's clothing.
Meanwhile, we were required to wash and dry our own clothes, and they even provided clotheslines in our rooms.
During our breaks, we would sit quietly and subconsciously trim our fingernails and toenails, applying bright nail polish.
We were gradually beginning to see ourselves as girls, and our every action was completely girlish.
Our long hair and high breasts constantly reminded us of this fact.
The nanobots were now operating at high speed.
The confusion caused by the changes in our bodies and consciousness, especially the indoctrination of knowledge, left me feeling very bewildered.
I already knew that in the first few weeks, we received super-dose injections of female hormones, but as the nanobots worked, our female hormones would be provided by our growing ovaries.
At the same time, our environment was entirely female-centric.
Whether it was the topics we discussed, the groups we joined, meals, or church activities, everything was based on women.
I remember that in the middle of my second month here, they encouraged us to think of a new name for ourselves, a name we would officially use from our third month onwards. For me, it was an easy thing.
My name is now Michelle, the name of a girl I had a crush on in high school. To me, she was like my sweetest dream, so I chose this name.
Roy's name is now Ruth, a name that suits her perfectly.
Now, girls' names are truly appropriate for us because we are now completely like girls.
If anything surprises me, it's when I look in the mirror.
The 5-foot-6-inch, 29-year-old man I used to know has disappeared, replaced by a 5-foot-2-inch woman who looks under 22.
The doctor told us not to panic; it's just a normal result of the nanobots altering our chromosomes.
Our sex chromosomes have now changed from XY to XX, and can never change back. As the DNA code that governs gender, we are now truly female.
The only things that haven't changed are our shrunken fingerprints and our blood type, so no matter what we do, they can always tell who did it.
Also in mid-February, we began learning typing, shorthand, and computer skills. Of course, journaling, cooking, and housework were also part of the training.
All of this was to prepare us for good corporate jobs or good wives after we left.
To speed things up, they even subconsciously instilled the same information into our minds.
We didn't know that a little over a month later, when we left, they would arrange for us to work as secretaries or similar positions in companies.
I was completely cooperative with everything they did, not because I didn't want to resist for my own survival, but because I knew that even if I resisted, the only outcome would be failure.
After we were treated as women and started getting to know each other, they quickly began teaching us about women's hygiene and health, something I blushed about for half an hour.
While we slept, they subconsciously showed us videos about women's sexual health, teaching us how to avoid sexually transmitted diseases and how to use contraception.
During this time, a female doctor explained in detail how women should maintain hygiene of their genitals and how to properly use sanitary napkins during menstruation.
At the same time, she began demonstrating things to us with real objects and instructing us to do as she taught.
My mind was struck by something unprecedented; because of their plan, I began to accept and enjoy being a girl.
It wouldn't be surprising if I knew my subconscious was receiving this information 24 hours a day.
This explains why, even though they didn't teach me anything else, I now behave like a lady in my walking, speaking, gesturing, sitting, standing, bending, and even eating.
I can't understand why I feel such enthusiasm and excitement about becoming a woman.
Of course, when we talk about it, no one wants to admit it; it's still something subconscious.
Every day now, I look forward to the changes in my body happening quickly so I can soon live a normal life as a girl.
And somewhere deep within my genes, a man is screaming, "Help! I'm being overwhelmed by female hormones!
" In reality, that voice has long been drowned out by female hormones.
Oh yes, I may have forgotten to mention.
The most important job of nanobots is to alter our minds and perform surgical reshaping, creating new body organs.
Recent body scans show that my ovaries, fallopian tubes, and penis are developing as planned.
A slit has also appeared in my genitals, and my testicles and erection have shrunk to the point of being barely noticeable.
Now my new erogenous zones are my breasts and that slit.
I know that in a very short time, we will become fully-fledged girls.
We can no longer urinate standing up like before, and we will accept other men's penetration in the future because we are women now.
Puberty, driven by female hormones, arrives quickly; compared to the several years of puberty for normal girls, our puberty lasts only a few days, but we have fully met the developmental standards of normal girls.
Their brainwashing is very thorough.
Now I feel that coming here is a blessing rather than a punishment.
Robert, that bad boy, is dead. Everyone, including myself, is happy about it.
I've started having girlish fantasies; I dream of finding a prince charming and becoming the mother of a lovely baby.
Now, Ruth and I both love reading romantic novels.
We talk about our fantasies and future plans; we've become true friends, sharing our diaries with each other—no secrets.
I've noticed my hands. They used to be big and strong, but now they seem so small, my fingers slender and long.
They look exactly like a girl's hands.
I've also noticed I've become more fragile than I imagined; opening a bottle of ketchup on the table is now a struggle.
Yes, Robert as a man is dead; for a girl, that's all her strength can offer.
I spend at least an hour each day at my vanity, getting ready until I'm satisfied with my appearance.
At night, when I choose my pajamas in front of the mirror, I'm amazed by my breasts.
They're high and firm, round and perky, looking so alluring.
And my hips, in another perfect way, were developing.
Ruth was already asleep. I closed my eyes and recalled the scene of my sister Jenny attending the school dance. It was as if, in a dream, my sister and I were at school together.
My charming sister wore her blue silk evening gown, paired with high heels that matched her hair. Then, my sister and a tall, handsome boy began to twirl on the dance floor.
I was immersed in the beautiful dance and the moving music when suddenly, a tall figure appeared in front of me. He was so handsome, and his smile was so attractive. He was holding me, and I immediately realized that it wasn't my sister dancing, but myself. His hot lips were already pressed against mine.
For the first time, my hand began to explore my fully grown cleft, which was already wet. Without any control, I began to slowly and wantonly manipulate my new **, and a shiver spread through my body during an orgasm.
This act defined my sexual orientation, my complete sexual orientation! Men are my love, my desire, and my reliance.
Yes, what I need is a man.
I didn't feel anything strange; these were my true thoughts right now.
Lying in bed, I savored the fantasy I'd just had. Although deep down I felt a slight surprise at my own thoughts, the feeling was so comfortable and sweet.
I hoped to meet that boy again in my dreams. Enveloped in a warm feeling, I drifted off to sleep.
Now I know that I came here as one of the last batch of criminals who had the freedom to choose. Later criminals had no choice but were brought here directly, regardless of the type of crime they committed.
All criminals here will receive the most thorough treatment and rehabilitation; of course, they will completely lose their original selves.
I approve of this because this way, after rehabilitation, these criminals will no longer harm others but will become beneficial citizens to society.
And I know that these criminals only feel distressed at first; soon they will be happy with this rehabilitation.
In the new legal perspective, if a person causes harm to society, he or she must make amends.
Before being allowed to return to society, he or she must relinquish their original gender and accept a new arrangement.
All the costs of the transformation will be recouped through taxes on his/her future earnings.
When my period arrived, I couldn't quite describe my feelings.
Perhaps it was more of the excitement and anticipation of its arrival, and the satisfaction of becoming a real girl.
Feeling the fullness and warmth of the sanitary pad covering my lower body, I was filled with hope for the future.
The controllers that disappeared behind my ears proved this.
As my breasts fully developed, I also learned something else: the three female criminals who came with us underwent similar transformation and treatment procedures.
The only difference was that they would become men.
In our final preparations before leaving, we learned sewing.
After learning how to sew fashionable and exquisite evening gowns, we also learned how to sew men's suits and how to choose fabrics and color combinations for clothing.
I now need to wear a C-cup bra, which means I can breastfeed my own child, and my breasts are always perky, which will accentuate my allure when I wear light skirts in the summer.
Although my full, perky breasts cause a few minor inconveniences in my life, I'm perfectly happy with it.
In fact, I've even started to feel a little narcissistic in private, overwhelmed by the perfection of my body's curves.
Once we've achieved the desired transformation and look completely like ladies, they have us wear our dresses and high heels to show off to those who come after us.
For some reason, a sense of pride arises within us in the presence of those who follow.
Our feminine appearance and actions evoke a sense of awe and wonder in those who come after us.
This is the first time I've worn high heels for so long; originally, it was just because they made my legs look sexier, but now I've come to enjoy the feeling of wearing them.
I started to look forward to seeing myself in four-inch heeled boots.
(Am I going crazy? I don't know.) I found myself walking with a very fast stride, without the slightest risk of losing my balance, and with each step, the heel of my front foot formed a straight line with the toes of my back foot.
I don't remember them ever training me like this, and now I felt no pain or awkwardness walking; it was as natural as it was.
They gave me some time to prepare in the office, and I spent most of that time getting ready and choosing which pretty dress and heels to wear.
But I didn't feel much gratitude towards the guards; none of them took advantage of me.
I felt surprised.
Did they think I didn't exist? Wasn't I an attractive woman? Didn't they see how alluring my ample bosom was? How exuded femininity my swaying gait was? With such an attractive woman in the office, how could no one be tempted? Finally, a charming fellow set his sights on me. He pulled me to a corner, cupped my face, gazed at me for a long while, then leaned down to kiss me. I feigned a struggle,
but finally let him kiss me. His kiss was so hurried, over before I could even savor it. I pulled him back, responding with a deep, long French kiss, before he pushed me away, afraid such an action would cause him trouble.
I didn't care. The man I truly loved was the one who appeared in my fantasies of dancing; just thinking of him stirred intense desire and excitement within me.
This also convinced me that the Robert I knew as a man was gone.
That night, I dreamt of many romantic stories between boys and girls, and I always appeared as a girl in them.
I wondered if this was all part of their plan.
The next morning at breakfast, I glanced at Ruth and noticed a gleam of happiness in her eyes.
Eyes are the mirror of the soul; they reflect the true thoughts within.
They have transformed us so thoroughly.
Now, not only physically, but also mentally, we have been transformed into women.
When I look at my own eyes in the vanity mirror in my room, I understand with fear and clarity: I am now completely a woman, both physically and mentally. Even if I lose my body, even if I die, my soul will still be a woman.
This realization is so direct and real that I still hesitate about one thing: how I will face the man who likes me and whom I like.
Undoubtedly, subconsciously, I am very willing to interact with men and have intimate contact; it's a woman's instinct, though I'm not aware of it now.
During this period, there was only one strange little thing: they explicitly required us to wear corsets and tight-fitting pantyhose.
I admit, these things are very feminine and make us look more sexy.
Now, encased in tight pantyhose, my lower body is flat; the once proudly erect protrusion has disappeared. But I'm not sad at all. In fact, I'm happy that what used to exist in my lower body is gone, because if it were still there, it would make me look less sexy.
I discovered that wearing the bodysuit and tights allowed my legs to spread easily. The smooth, silky nylon wrapped around my legs, so sexy and alluring. I even fantasized about how my boyfriend's hands would caress my legs upwards, finally reaching the peak. Just thinking about it made me feel wet down there.
(Is this really my thought? I, a pervert, a strong man who enjoys violence against women.
And now, I can be violated by another man. I feel fear.
I finally understand what the judge meant back then, and now the only thing I can do is to be a dutiful girl.
) In order for us to return to society and follow our modified subconscious, fully accept ourselves, and live normally in our new roles, they allowed us to enter a special shop here.
Just like the shops outside, it was a shop specializing in the latest fashions, with all kinds of clothes for us to try on and choose from.
Of course, there were also various cosmetics.
In our subconscious, nanobots had already constructed our individual styles and tastes based on our families' views.
As for me, I now prefer slightly conservative outerwear, but when it comes to women's underwear, I prefer styles that make me look sexier.
Our changes continue; I'm now under 120 pounds.
Our hips are widening to accommodate normal childbirth, making our waists thinner.
In fact, since the nanobots started working, all our changes have been gradual, step-by-step, like those of a normal woman (or man).
Now I have a 34C bust, and in 5-inch heels, I think I could charm any man.
Now I understand why my sister Jenny never envied men—she knows how wonderful it is to be a girl, and a beautiful one at that.
Of course, learning to dance in high heels is a real skill and art, which will allow me to interact with men more gracefully in my future work.
I practice dancing diligently, and deep down, I hope that one day, the boy I meet in my dreams will embrace me and we'll dance together again.
From the initial panic of physical changes to now being able to calmly do everything that is traditionally associated with women, we have all cooperated with these changes under the guidance of our subconscious. And, due to this subconscious influence, none of us thought of escaping.
Now, the female prisoners who came here with us have also completed their transformations; they are all now quite handsome and dashing men.
For us, the nanobots have corrected the distribution and growth of our hair follicles. Except for our hair, eyebrows, and the triangular area of our genitals, every part of our skin is delicate and smooth.
[Website address: ******.com] I don't know why those girls are bothered by hair on their legs or other parts of their bodies, but for us, it's obviously not a problem.
Stroking my long, smooth legs wrapped in nylon, I feel great. Yes, I like this feeling.
They've started giving us a lot of freedom, even encouraging us to date those handsome guys who've also undergone the transformation and become good-looking. We're starting to experience the mental changes that come with being a girl.
Now, I find myself looking in the mirror from time to time, and of course, I can't find a trace of my former self in it; all I see is a sexy, beautiful, and charming girl.
I even imagine myself walking down the street, countless men turning around to look at me after seeing me.
But nobody noticed me here, because everyone undergoing this transformation seemed to have their own unique charm, and I wasn't one of the special ones.
Even so, I was confident about what would happen after I got out, because I knew how charming I was.
I guessed this was part of their plan, so that we could find jobs and start families more easily after returning to society.
For some reason, they even started using a method to make us gradually forget our past memories, including our former names.
The name Robert gradually became unfamiliar to me, while the name Jenny became more and more familiar, because she was my sister, my twin sister.
I didn't want to recall the bad things Robert had done in the past.
In fact, I couldn't remember anything from before.
Looking in the mirror, I saw a young and charming woman.
And what she used to think about was being loved by a man she loved and starting a family with him, becoming a mother to one or more adorable children.
(I understood what the judge meant when he spoke to me again.
But what happened before… what is my name… now I just want to find a man I love and live happily with him.
This is part of their planned system.
) Yes, I am Michelle Rose Wood, Jenny's twin sister.
They allowed us to continue sewing, and thus, I made many dresses, trendy skirts, and loose tops to meet my needs in my future work and life.
They also paid me some money, all earned from my labor here.
They allowed me to buy lingerie, trinkets, and finely crafted high heels in the small shops specializing in trendy clothes.
Of course, this was all arranged by them; they cultivated our feminine shopping habits, eroding the last vestiges of our consciousness regarding men.
I'm somewhat ashamed to admit it, but I must confess.
I've used my own hands to experience the sexual stimulation that belongs to women.
From initial curiosity to now, it's become a regular occurrence; I enjoy the stimulation and pleasure this behavior brings.
One night, Rose and I tried caressing each other.
I must admit, it brought me many novel and exciting experiences, truly befitting a woman, and a great deal of pleasure.
Actually, I didn't want to do this with another woman; I just wanted to experience it.
Deep down, if I could choose, I would now prefer a man to embrace and caress me.
As our three-month "reform" here was coming to an end, we received diplomas from a certain school.
I "remember" that before coming here, I was a clerk, and after this reformation, I firmly believe my abilities have been further strengthened and improved.
I think that when I leave here and return to society, I will definitely be an excellent company administrator.
They didn't tell us some things.
After we arrived here, all our previous records were erased.
And in our memories, everything from before was completely gone.
It was like a computer, where the old data was completely formatted, deleted, and then filled with new content.
From our birth certificates to the names on our cars, everything was different.
Everything we had before changed because of our changed identities, to adapt to our new lives.
Finally, it was time to leave.
They gave us various new certificates and a new wallet—that was all we knew.
In my wallet was a two-month supply of "pills" to solidify our post-modification bodies and ensure normal growth.
They allowed us to take everything we did here and purchases from the small shops, even providing us with suitcases for this purpose.
In fact, they did more.
In our old place, everything about us was wiped clean, except for our new gender and names, things that could never be changed back.
Of course, nanobots couldn't do everything.
Our eyebrows could only be arched through electrolysis at a beauty salon.
I loved having long eyelashes and captivating double eyelids, so we were allowed to have minor cosmetic surgeries at the salon.
And at this time, I specifically requested to have my ears pierced. Now,
I often habitually take out a comb and brush my flowing blonde hair when I have nothing to do; it's a wonderful pleasure for me.
I can't imagine that I used to attack and violate a woman.
How could one woman violate another? I feel like I was someone else before, someone I never want to think about again.
I'm happy with my life now, and I'm glad I'm a girl, as is Ruth.
She's even dieting, and her waist is another inch thinner than before.
I think I should probably diet too.
When we left, they threw us a graduation ceremony.
Of course, we had to wear our best, prettiest clothes.
Ruth wasn't happy with her graduation outfit, so I bought her a sexy black lingerie set as a gift.
I think she'll love it, because it matches our black graduation dresses perfectly.
That way, she won't complain about her graduation outfit anymore.
Oh, I know what's going to happen to me now.
I can get pregnant.
Actually, I'm looking forward to it, provided, of course, that the man I'm with is the one I like.
As I walked along the sidewalk, even though I tried to be as light as possible, the heels of my high heels still made a crisp sound on the ground, attracting the attention of most men, and then their eyes lingered on me.
And now I really enjoy wearing makeup; pink lipstick from the brand Laurel is my favorite.
They didn't remove the controller yet, explaining that they wanted to observe us for a while longer and could contact us through it.
We didn't care, but things weren't that simple.
This was actually the final step in the entire modification plan.
In the shortest possible time, the controller completely erased our previous memories and implanted entirely new ones into our minds.
In our new memories, we have all the memories of growing up as girls, every detail of our lives, including our clothes, hair, friends, boyfriends, and school life, all so real.
Yes, although we don't have a real past, our future life is real and something to look forward to.
Postscript: Six months have passed since leaving the rehabilitation center, and I've already found a very good job.
I even found a really cute guy among my colleagues.
He's six feet tall and very handsome.
A few days after we met, he started dating me, and over the next few days, I accepted him and started dating him, of course, I knew I had to be careful.
Now I know how wonderful it is to be a woman, and yes, he let me experience more, more exciting orgasms as a woman.
Oh…oh…a wonderful orgasm, and then another one.
But I made him wear a condom as a precaution, and we both have to go for a checkup every three months.
My relationship with him is very intimate; he loves me, and I love him; I'm a girl completely in love.
As for something we did in bed, he praised me as a wonderful kitten.
He would often let me suck on his erection, and then we would reach another climax in mutual affection.
Oh yes, I do like being a girl, even if that identity was forced upon me.
If I didn't know the pleasure it brought me, I might have left him and lived quietly on my own.
And I also told myself to respect myself and never be a woman who succumbs to desire; I wouldn't seduce any man or hurt anyone else.
I can't remember what I went through during my rehabilitation, the only thing I remember is that when I left, they performed a deep implantation surgery on our necks and under our breasts. Those were lifelong female hormone replenishment programs for our bodies. When our ovaries stop working during menopause, these female hormones will be replenished into our bodies in the amount secreted by normal young women.
Although all the memories are blurred, I still feel the pleasure in it.
I dare say I've never had any so-called deep implantation surgery on my neck.
The place where I underwent rehabilitation wasn't a prison; it was more like a purifier, where everyone who came out was a completely new person.
I chuckled at this.
I think about the past less and less these days.
But I still know a little: I was once a bad girl and was punished, but the specific details… to be honest, I don't want to think about it, and I really can't remember.
Importantly, I fully support this method of rehabilitation for other criminals because I am the best example. I underwent this rehabilitation, which made me a useful member of society.
As for the specific methods they use for rehabilitation, I think that's not important and not what I care about.
If things go as I hope, I guess maybe around March next year, after a romantic candlelight dinner, he'll propose to me with a gorgeous diamond ring. Bless me! My parents will only find out everything at our wedding ceremony; I'm telling them at the last minute to give them a surprise. All our relatives will be invited to the wedding, and finally, we'll spend our honeymoon in Las Vegas.
My mother only remembers me as the older of her twin daughters, while my father still vaguely recalls some of my childhood experiences.
I'm certain I'm incredibly lucky to have been born a girl instead of a boy, and naturally, I don't mind being a wife and a mother to my children.
(The End)

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