Beta to Alpha (for Becca57)

[DirrrtyDanny]

Life had never been easy for Carl Stover. He had to fight against what seemed to him like fate for everything, even if 'everything' was much, much less than his brother Brad, seemed to enjoy. Brad had the height. Brad had the build. Brad had the talent. Brad was coordinated, sure of himself, witty, and popular. Brad had all the best traits of their mother, and their father, while Carl seemed to have the cast-offs of both. He was like the polar opposite of his brother. Brad was on the hockey team, and played football. He was also a great guitar player and sang in a band. Carl... wasn't any of those things. Carl and the word 'cool' weren't even casual acquaintances. He had to work exceptionally hard to get to where he was in maths and sciences, and even that didn't come easily to him. School had been a disaster. Brad had been popular with the girls, for lots of reasons, some already mentioned, some less obvious (below the belt, shall we say?) Carl had only a single girlfriend his whole time at school, and it had been a short-term, loveless relationship that amounted to nothing. College had been the same. Though he had impressed scholastically, and moved to near the top of his class in bio/mechanical engineering and computer science, Carl had still failed to impress anyone socially. He had dated a few times, but it really hadn't led to anything besides heartache.

Now, five years later, Carl was one of many working at a biotech firm working with government contracts. He was a spoke in a wheel, often toiling on projects with a level of minutiae that no one person could possible know the extent of the whole project. He had six others in his team, working on genetic coding for a project with an alpha-numeric name that meant nothing to them. Their job was widgets. What they were doing was same old, same old, but part of a greater whole that nobody understood.

So when his team made a breakthru on their small portion of the puzzle, and Carl dutifully passed on his findings to the project coordinator, he recieved an email reply, praising him and his team, but the email was obviously not meant for his eyes. It was meant for someone much higher-up, a military address at marinecorps.gov.us... The email discussed a serum that was in the very earliest test phase to create front-line soldiers. He needed to read more, discover more of these secret terms and project codes that corresponded to projects his firm was developing... but he didn't want to do so, in his office. He printed the email, and rushed home to research from his home office...

 

[Becaa57]

Becca grew up in the same neighborhood as Carl and his brother Brad, she knew them both of course, Carl the smart one, who always had time to help with school work. Brad the sport nut one. While I wasn't into sports, my friends and I would go watch the games in support of the school. All the way through high school it was that way. Brad and I dated for a bit, but he wasn't the type to stay faithful or want a long term relationship. I was kind of in the middle of the cool kids and the nerds, not smart enough to be a nerd, not pretty enough to be a cool kid. But talked to both. I saw the relationship that Carl had been in in school and I felt for him but had no attraction to him.

After high school I went to college, just the junior college and would see the brothers around town. The strange thing I always thought was that even though they were very different they got along and Brad was very protective of Carl, so he may not believe it, the others went easy on him.

After I left college I drifted around job to job, ending up waitressing at the diner downtown. No serious relationships. Thinking it's just not meant to be for me. Dreaming same dream all girls do of their prince riding in, knowing that won't ever happen.

 

[DirrrtyDanny]

Carl, of course, knew Becca. Had known her since they were kids. He had hated that Brad had dated her, even though Brad knew damn well she was the only girl Carl ever spoke about, lamented not speaking to, dreamed of going to the movies with. Brad had never done that again after their short relationship, and had apologized to Carl about being insensitive. Becca was right of course. The brothers did get along well, even though they were so different, though Carl was never really sure that other kids might have been harder on him without his brother's interference. This was something he had been unaware of.

Carl ate at Becca's diner twice a week. (he figured any more than that would mark him not only hopelessly socially awkward, but also a glutton for diner food.) He switched it up often enough that it didn't seem like a regular thing, but tonight he needed to see Becca. (he knew enough to know when her shifts were, and even though he showed up on different days, it was rare that he came in on a day that Becca wasn't working. That only happened if she had scheduled a day off, or had come down ill, something unexpected like that.)

He had come straight from work, still wearing his nametag and lab coat as he sat in his favourite booth, and let his fries go cold as he poured over his laptop. So this serum was made in five distinct parts. His team of bioengineers worked on C. He was able to discern from internal memos that different parts of the serum dealt with different areas of the mind and body. A, for instance, controlled adrenal productivity, and seemed to hyper-stimulate the pituitary. His team's contribution seemed to be about impulse control and serotonin levels. Fascinating stuff. He still wasn't quite sure how it all added up to a front-line soldier. Didn't they have lots of those already? It was as Becca walked over to ask about a refill of his coffee (black, two sugars) that he found an internal memo that pieced together not the answer to his question, but dosage levels. This was a huge step to putting together the puzzle, and he smiled broadly, even as Becca stood over him, coffee urn in hand.

She was so beautiful. The words died in his throat, and the smile slid away. He merely nodded as she held up the coffee, removing his glasses to polish the lenses. This wasn't unusual. He very rarely had the courage or the confidence to speak to women. Especially the woman he had dreamed of for almost ten years. He mumbled a thank you, and went back to his screen (though he did watch her bubble butt wiggle as she walked off...)

 

[Becaa57]

Today has been one of those days from hell for a waitress, rude customers almost nothing in tips make me wonder why I'm here.

Seeing Carl come in at first thinking again? He was just here the other day. I know he likes me, has since we were little. And I like him, but not in that way.

When I walk up to refill his coffee and take away his cold fries his face lights up, but not looking at me looing at something on his laptop.

Taking the fries back and tossing them, then getting bowl of fruit I walk back to his booth. Sliding into the seat opposite him.

"Here maybe you will like this more then the fries"
"So different to see you in your lab coat, you look so professional"
"Did you get good news a moment ago? I've never you smile like that before"

 

[DirrrtyDanny]

Carl was struck almost to the point where he didn’t know what to do. They had talked before, sure. Carl used to help with homework occasionally in high school, and he remembered discussing stats with Becca after a little league game in the 10th grade. Brad was playing, of course, Not him. But it was rare that Becca just sat down and started talking to him, and so he had real trouble for a moment, figuring out how he wanted to express himself.

“Um… er, yeah, good news at work. Somebody likes some findings that my team came up with.“ He looked down the bowl of fruit, mixed with a bit of yogurt. The angle also afforded him spectacular view of Becca‘s chest pressed against the edge of the booth table, as she leaned forward attentively. “Thanks for the fruit Becca. Guess I had my mind in my work a little too much over dinner tonight. I hate to let the food go to waste.”

He swallowed hard, his mouth and throat suddenly dry , taking a short drink of water didn’t seem to do anything, and even at 28 years of age, he was too naïve to realize that it was the attraction he felt for Becca, causing his cottonmouth.“kind of dead in here tonight, isn’t it?… It’s a Friday night, Becca — you should get out of here. Someone should be taking you to a nice restaurant.“

 

[Becaa57]

"That is good news!!!! I always knew you'd be going places!!! You were the only one who actually had a brain and used it"
Blushing when I say that, as it was a lot more personal of a complement then I've ever given you before.

"You had a good day, and I had a terrible day, I just wanted to sit with someone who won't yell or insult my intelligence, not like I have much of that"

I can tell you are nervous about just talking to me, but I also know that once you stop thinking about the fact we are talking, you can actually carry a conversation.

"Don't worry about wasting that food, it's barely edible even when hot. The fruit and yogurt are much better, it's kind of my favorite snack lately and not one you have to eat all at once"

I see my boss giving me the eye, but do want to address your comment about going out to dinner.

"Well I'm not seeing anyone now and my girlfriends all have dates. So dinner tonight for me will be a sandwich I pick up at the deli, a hot tub and a glass or wine. In a way I think I prefer that over some handsy thinking I "Owe" him for dinner"

"Eat your fruit Carl, not the junk stuff they serve. And don't worry it's on me tonight"

I get up to walk away, looking back at you staring at me.


"Goodnight Carl"

 

[DirrrtyDanny]

The veritable bombardment of positives he was getting from Becca were enough to cause sensory overload in Carl. Nobody had ever said such blatantly nice things to him before, ever. For much of Becca's praise, he merely sat, caught between his fruit and yogurt, and her presence on the other side of his table. He could smell her, and the smell was pleasant, citrus, fresh, with a touch of vanilla. His heart rate was elevated, and his palms were sweaty. He literally didn't know what to do.

It was a little bit like the time that Samantha (from his team) had worn a skirt to the office, and it had become caught on he back of her chair, riding up so that Carl could see the lacy underwear she was wearing, and the smooth, white plains of her ass-cheeks. Then, as now, Carl had not known what to do.

I mean, he knew what he should have done. Especially when Samantha had 'realized' what had happened, and had smirked and winked back at him. But he had been frozen into inactivity. Fear and intimidation had been learned and were next to impossible to overthrow.

"Don't worry about wasting that food, it's barely edible even when hot. The fruit and yogurt are much better, it's kind of my favorite snack lately and not one you have to eat all at once..."

He had managed to stammer "...I, uh, I prefer the fruit-on-the-bottom kind. When you stir it up, you get the fruit... from the bottom..." Oh JESUS. What the hell was he saying? He went nine shades of red, the embarrasment almost too much to bear. Becca had been completely kind and easy-going with him, and he had to blurt out THAT, of all things? He wanted to die.

"Goodnight, Carl..."

"Goo--goodnight, Becca. Thanks." He almost managed to say 'it was night to talk to someone friendly...' but it wouldn't have come out right. He sat there a while, the sweat stinging his eyes and marring his vision. He wanted to die. What a waste of space he was. What a goon. Loser. Pathetic. Idiot. He looked back to his laptop, and his mind settled on his only course of action. The only thing that pried him out of his sense of loss, of failure.

He made simple requisitions from each of the teams working on the serum. It was a relatively simple thing to come up with reasoning for why he might need samples from their departments. He was going to be the first. He was going to be a 'front-line soldier.' Images of Peter Parker and the radioactive spider flooded his addled mind, and as he hit 'send' on his emails to the program directors, he knew that the next time he saw Becca, it would be different.

He got up to go, and made to nod, or wave, of maybe even mouth a 'bye' or 'thanks' to her, but she was busy with other customers...

 

[Becaa57]

I'm pleased to see that Carl actually does eat the fruit and yogurt, I know from experience that when he gets his mind on something with work, food doesn't appeal to him.
It was cute to see him so flustered talking to me, so different then most guys.

I know that he wants more with me, I just wish that he was my type of guy. He is so smart in some ways, and not so smart in others.

After I put in the order I was taking when he left, I go and bus his table, seeing a bunch of notes written on paper, that make no sense to me. But I stick in the pocket of my pants. I'll ask him next time he comes in, which I know will be in a day or two.

Almost as if a magical reaction to talking to him the rest of my shift goes very smoothly, getting some nice tips and compliments.

After work I clean up and decide to walk home. I do this from time to time because my apartment is fairly close and it is a nice night.

At home I take a long hot shower to relax and fix myself something to eat. Remembering what you said about fruit on the bottom, I try that with my fruit/yogurt and find that it actually does mix together easier.
"Thanks Carl "

 

[DirrrtyDanny]

The next couple of days went by very quickly. Work was busy. There were always new projects, new deadlines, new compounds that needed careful supervision and control. His team were nearing the end of their time working on the serum, or their portion of it, and it seemed to Carl that the requisitions were taking forever to come in. But finally, on the Tuesday after his last evening meal at Becca's diner, inter-office delivery brought in nine vials in a temperature-controlled case. Some of his team were interested, especially Samantha, who really seemed to want to get her eyes on whatever it was, but it was easy enough for Carl to redirect their energy elsewhere, as he retreated to lab #3, citing some new project that needed his immediate attention.

measuring the correct dosages of the five parts of the serum and combining them was time consuming. Each part of the serum had to be tested against the next to ensure there were no combining agents that could create toxic of dangerous reactions both airborne, and inside the human body. Such a recipe could mean near-instant death. It took him the better part of the day, and he'd be lying if Carl didn't at least once think of the pseudo-sexual implications of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, which he had once read, long ago.

Once combined, the final dosage was, frankly, immense, requiring an auto-injector that would have been better-suited to a horse tranquilizer than, say, a booster shot or an immunization. Carl was not nervous. He was excited. He was aroused, in fact. He was vaguely aware that his response had no logical basis, since the serum was, as far as he knew, untested. But if it was supposed to create super soldiers, then what could he expect? muscle growth? reduced inhibitions?

He bid his team goodnight at the end of the workday. Samantha asked if he was interested in a drink, but he barely registered her inquiry as he was so focussed on his plan. Soon he was back in the lab, assessing the best method for injection. Two smaller auto-injectors in the cartoid arteries, or one large injector in the femoral? His mind swam with thoughts of Becca. Of his new self.

He decided to use two smaller (but still massive by comparison to any standard needle) auto-injectors, directly into the cartoids. He sterilized the areas, controlled his breathing, and pressed the auto-injectors to his cartoid arteries. The injections took about six seconds to administer, the intrusion of cold liquid to two of his major arteries causing a massive influx of adrenaline. The cocktail hit his system like a freight train, and Carl dropped the auto-injectors as sensation gripped him. Looking down at his hands and arms, veins stood out like a weightlifter, a deep greeny-blue and pulsing. Then the pain washed over him. He screamed, and - thankfully - passed out, falling to the floor, knocking over the sterile tray in the process.

 

[Becaa57]

Over the next few days, work is going ok. Carl came in a couple of times, but he was so engrossed in his work, that laptop always open and him typing away. I just served him and gave him space. I did swap out his order for fries with the yogurt and fruit though. I don't think he noticed, but I felt better about it.
Felt strange in a way that he barely noticed me, I guess something big at work. Maybe one day he will tell me.

 

[DirrrtyDanny]

Carl awoke three hours later, thankfully before anyone from cleaning or maintenance had come by to run routine checks. He cleaned up his space, and left for the day. Luckily, it was not unusual that he worked late -- nobody seemed to even notice anything out of the ordinary that he was leaving after eight o'clock in the evening. He was hungry. And for some reason, his mind was racing, like he couldn't focus on anything. Very uncharacteristic for Carl. He drove directly to the diner. (On the drive, he realized he was feeling a little cramped for legroom in his '04 Toyota, which he had owned for over fifteen years, and had to slide the seat back. He didn't think much of it. And just before he arrived and the diner, he found he needed to undo the buttons on his sleeves, tugging at them as if the material was too small. This was a new shirt... he shook his head at the frustration of having shrunk the shirt in the wash, obviously...)

When he arrived at the diner, his mind was filled with thoughts of Becca. He walked in, and walked straight to the counter seats at the slightly raised bar, sitting down between two guys he didn't know. (This was unlike anything Carl would ever have done before. He had 'his' booth. He never spoke to strangers, or voluntarily sat next to them.) This seat was closest to Becca. "Hey--" he said, in a conversational, pleasant tone, smiling at the object of his desires.

He looked the same, though was he wearing a lab coat a little too small for himself? Maybe an old one? He wasn't wearing his glasses. Carl always wore his glasses. He had them in his lab coat pocket right now. Had his eyes always been green? And was that -- stubble? Carl was always -- always, clean-shaven. He rested his hands on the caounter-top, and the only thing that seemed strange or odd about Carl Stover today (aside from his uncharacteristic seating and proximity to strangers, and seemingly outgoing nature, was that the fabric was pulled taut over his arms... his clothing seemed ill-fitting. And the bits of his forearms and hands she could see were vascular, like he had been exerting himself (maybe Carl had joined a gym??)

"How about a smoothie and a piece of pie, Becca?"

 

[Becaa57]

I'm having a busy morning, I hate working the counter, tips are lousy usually. I hear a request for smoothie and pie. Glancing over I see a guy who looks familar but I can't place his face.
"What flavor honey? Today we have strawberry, blueberry and vanilla for smoothies. Apple, lemon merengue and chocolate cream for the pies"

 

[DirrrtyDanny]

Carl laughed. He couldn't help it. 'Honey?' When had Becca ever called him honey? Not that he was complaining. In fact, he revelled in her affectionate little friendly pet-name. She likely called several customers a day 'honey,' but what would previously have made him stammer and blush, grow introspective, and have trouble responding (was that due to overanalyzing? feelings of inadequacy?) actually fuelled him right now, and he loved the feeling. His laugh was full and honest, and he shook his head, grinning with this newfound experience as he replied, realizing that she likely didn't recognize him without his glasses.

"Honey, Becca? Not sure I've ever heard that one before." He put his glasses on. "It's me, silly... What -- you have lots of customers who come in wearing a lab coat?" He thought for a moment. "Strawberry smoothie, and apple pie, with vanilla icecream, please-and-thankyou!" He winked at her behind his glasses, which oddly felt a little strange to be wearing.

His eye followed Becca down the counter as she spoke to another customer. She bent over the counter, pointing out a few different items on the menu, and his eyes roamed over her supple, toned ass, down along her legs. He was suddenly very hungry. Wild, erotic, aggressive images of sexual acts he had only ever seen on a screen flashed through his mind, he and Becca (or was it himself? The body in these images did not resemble Carl at all... or did it?)

He was behind Becca, rutting deeply into her as she squealed his name and came loudly. He was between her legs, expertly eating at her delicious, beautiful pussy until he was rewarded with a shower of warm squirt that spattered his face, chest and shoulders. Becca was on her back, head hung over the edge of a bed as he drove an obscene piece of cockmeat into her throat. He was in the shower with her, muscular form holding her aloft, her legs over his elbows, driving his prick deeply into her sodden sex...

He shook his head to clear the unbidden thoughts from his consciousness. (was his shirt even tighter than it had been a few minutes ago? And what was this swelling in his pants? Was it--?? He 'adjusted' himself... it was. That... that wasn't his. But it WAS his. He was going to have Becca. That was going to happen. He had made up his mind. He had never been worthy before. But now... If this was him now... what would he be tomorrow? The day after?

...

 

[Becaa57]

I was taking another customers order, when I heard you say it's you and something about a lab coat. Finishing up with the customer I walk back staring at you.

"Carl????"
"What happened you look so different????"

I recognize you now, but you're so much bigger and something in your eyes has changed. A much more well as if your personality has changed. You are much more sure of yourself, you check me out openly, something you never would have done before, strangely enough I don't mind. part of me hoping you like what you see.

 

[Becaa57]

"Can we go over to your regular booth? I need to know more what's going on with you, nobody changes as much as you have in such a short period of time"

"You have changed, not just physically which is very obvious, but your personality as well. Reminding me right now more of your brother then who you are"

 

[DirrrtyDanny]

He replied in characteristic defelection, not entirely sure what she meant (but maybe for the first time, getting a bit of the idea, and liking what it might have meant.

"Oh! I took my glasses off after work. I think I need a new prescription. Think I must have put on a coworker's lab coat today or something..." He shrugged, and it seemed for a moment that he might split the seams of the overtaxed garment. He didn't offer up any other explanation, but when Becca leaned on the counter in front of him this time, her arms pressing her cleavage together tantalizingly, something like a deep, low, barely-perceptible growl came from Carl's throat. It was so quiet that it might not have been there at all. For a moment, he found he couldn't tear his eyes away from the deep cleft of her chest, and his mouth was dry, his hands wanted to hold her, feel her nipples harden under his touch. It seemed like a superhuman effort to keep himself from reaching for her, right then.

But then the kitchen bell rang, and Becca turned to get his pie. "Thanks," he said, eating ravenously. "This is really good." He took another bite. "Hey -- what are you doing tomorrow morning?" It was Saturday and Carl could think of nothing, of nobody, he'd rather be doing.

 

[DirrrtyDanny]

Carl nods, picking up his pie and moving off toward the booth he normally sits in. He hasn't noticed it himself, but the seam in the middle of his lab coat has ripped. "You look incredible today, Becs. You change your hair?" he undressed her with his eyes.

 

[Becaa57]

I
I blush and touch my hair.
"Not really just got a trim, do you like it?"
sliding into the seat opposite of you. still looking you up and down, wondering how you are so different, it's not some kind of muscle man I can tell your body has changed and for the better. The other personality changes I don't know yet. I did like the old Carl, although he could have been a bit more sure of himself. Hoping the new Carl isn't too far the other way.

"The change in you is a lot more then just your glasses Carl, you may not have noticed, but you are busting out of your clothes. Obviously a sudden and drastic increase in your body and build."
"Not complaining, but I don't understand how it could happen?"

Looking at you as your eyes are undressing me and for some reason I'm not getting mad about it like I normally would.

"So in the words of that old newspaper, 'Enquiring minds want to know' "

 

[DirrrtyDanny]

For the first time since arriving at the diner that day, Carl truly looks thoughtful thinking hard about what Becca is saying.

“I decided to take care of myself. I’ve spent too long doing what everybody else wanted me to do. It was time to take care of me.”

He looked back towards Becca, meeting her eyes, and there was a level of sincerity in his, to keep the explanation short he simplified the truth.

“I’m trying a new treatment. Something my company has been working on. It seems to be working well for me. I’ve been taking it for a little while, but I’m starting to see good results“ he knew he had lied to a tiny bit about how long he had been taking the serum… But he didn’t want to scare Becca by telling her that all of this had happened in the last several hours

In fact, he didn’t really know what the end result would be

 

[Becaa57]

I listen to your explanation, my bullshit meter going off, but not super high so guessing you're telling me a partial truth. But I decide not to push it. Seeing a couple of girls coming in, giving you a once over, then another one. I can tell I'm not the only one feeling a almost animal attraction to you.

"Well I'm glad you are taking care of yourself now, you were working too hard I know. Just so you know I'm totally buying that story, but for now ok. Just be careful."

Trying to phrase what I say next so it doesn't sound like too much of a invitation for more with me.

"It's busy here tonight, I want to talk to you more, I get off work in a few hours. Do you want to meet somewhere we can chat?"

Glancing at the girls who are still checking you out.
I smile

"That is if your not too busy, I suspect a lot is going to change for you now"
Writing down my number on a napkin.

"Text or call me later on, we can figure out where to meet"

I get up and go back to work, bringing you another piece of pie and smoothie

 

[DirrrtyDanny]

Carl raised his eyebrow at Becca's suggestion. It made his cock swell in anticipation. There may have been a few other girls around who had glanced his way, and he could smell their scents, track them like a feline hunter stalks prey, by the scent of their pussies. But he had eyes only for Becca. There was scarcely a few seconds' delay before he replied.

"I'd love to meet somewhere. How about my apartment? I have wine..." receiving the napkin with your number, I inhale your scent, and catch one more glimpse of skin typically hidden from view. My cock lurches in my pants, and for a moment I consider taking her, over the counter, legs held wide in my powerful grip, spearing into her very core... but again I shake my head clear of the image. "I'll call you after your shift."

Leaving the pie, but downing the smoothie, I make it back to my car, and drive home in a sexually-charged haze, my heart rate again elevated, erection straining at my pants, arms and chest filling my clothing -- Old Carl's clothing, uncomfortably. Once I make it up the stairs to my apartment, I peel off the lab coat and my button-down shirt, and rip the pants from my legs, being too tight to pull off anymore. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, and liked what he saw. Running a shower, he stood under the piping hot water, and realized based on the location of the shower head, he must have been six inches taller. He ran his hands over the newly-defined musculature, and eventually his hands found the slab between his legs. He liked what he found there, too, and began to stroke, images of Becca filling his mind. He found he needed two hands to properly envelope his tool, and even then, the bloated head stood proud of his fist, drooling precome.

Gods... he was so virile. So strong. He needed to have his cock in something. In Becca. The shower was good, but it did nothing to slake his thirst for her. After he shut off the water, he rummaged in his top drawer, and found some of Brad's old clothes from the last time he had stayed over. An old Alice in Chains tee thin and threadbare, a pair of boxers and cargo shorts. Simple, but they fit him well, and looked like something casual he might throw on at home.

Texting Becca a couple hours later, he reminded her the address, and said 'see you soon.'

 

[Becaa57]

I get your text and reply
"You left 2 girls very disappointed "

Honestly having 2nd thoughts about meeting you at your place. Your new build and personality for want of a better word remind me of Brad, fun for a while, but not something I could put or would put with for any length of time.

I don't know what you did and how you did it, I hope it's no illegal and won't make you sick in the long run.

I send another text
"Are you hungry? I could bring some food if you want"

I check myself in the mirror before leaving. Something I never would have done for what I now think of as the old Carl.
I think too, that I should have made more effort with him, he really is a nice guy.

I head out to your place and before I can rethink it am knocking on your door.

"Hi Carl, How are you? I see you changed"

 

[DirrrtyDanny]

Receiving your texts, I struggle to recall the two girls you mention. Right... at the diner. A blonde with perky B-cups who made sure her ass wriggled just so when she passed, and her friend, with short brown hair and a pair of full-C's with her headlights on when she passed, making the most of what Mama gave her. Those girls. But they could be disappointed seven days a week when Becca was on my mind.

Another text. Hungry? My cock relaxed inside the borrowed shorts I was wearing, starting its descent down my right thigh. Oh yeah, I was hungry. "No food for me. Fridge here is well-stocked though, I'm sure I can feed you something here that will fill you up."

When you knock at the door, I answer, and yeah, you've got it right. "Yeah... just felt like relaxing tonight. Hope you don't mind..." I invite you in, and lead you through the nice apartment, it's spacious enough for one, or a couple, and fairly modern. In the kitchen, I pour us glasses of red, and cross the floor to stand in front of you, holding out the glass.

"What should we toast to?" I ask...

 

[Becaa57]

Going into you apartment, I see you are fairly neat, but obviously a man living alone. Strange now I think of you as a man, instead of just Carl. Now that you are dressed casually in shorts and a t-shirt the change in your physical is even more obvious. I think you're even bigger and more muscled then your brother Brad. I can sense too the attraction that is building towards you, I know the girls felt it in the diner. Reminding myself that this is Carl I'm talking too, yes a very changed one, but still Carl. That seems to help me from throwing myself at you.

"Toast? Hmmmm how about honestly and truth between friends?"

"You do need to give me a better explanation of what happened to you, how this transformation took place in what a few days???"

"I know you don't owe it to me, but we've been friends for a long time, I'd like to know really"

 

[DirrrtyDanny]

There she is -- pushing me for truth again. For the briefest of moments, maybe less than half a heartbeat, anger flashes through my mind, terrible, furious anger (is this also from the 'front-line soldier' serum? A loss of inhibitions?) But as soon as it enters my mind, it is gone, and I know I need to tell you at least a form of truth, though I am not ready yet to give everything away. I am still coming to terms with my new body, enjoying my new form and its powers. I am not willing to go back to what I was. I like what I have become. I finally feel like the 'me' that was shut away, hidden for years, has been let out to play, and I will play.

I set the wine down on the counter, sighing. "I have never liked myself, Becca. I was always a disappointment to my parents, to my brother, to myself. I always saw myself differently to what I was... like I was waiting for a growth spurt that just never came. I have never felt 'myself' in my own skin, and finally I do. I took matters into my own hands... caused that growth spurt to finally come along. And it has. And I feel... incredible. And most of all, I did it for you, Becca. I was never confident enough to speak with you, to tell you how I felt..."