Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Zippy Zipperdale: Moderately Mad Scientist ❯ The Fourth Experiment ( Chapter 4 )

ZIPPY ZIPPERDALE:
MODERATELY MAD
SCIENTIST:
The Fourth Experiment

By Hardcover




Zippy lay on her bed on her stomach, her legs up in the air behind her, various books spread out in front of her. She had fiery red hair that hung down strait and then curved at her shoulders, and wide blue eyes. She was dressed in her school uniform, a black shirt under a black long sleeved jacket with white trim, a short black skirt and black nylon stockings. She wore a large black bow in her hair, not part of the uniform but she liked it. Her skirt had ridden up, exposing her pink and white striped panties, but she didn’t care because it was just her and Lizzy.

Moving her legs a bit, she adjusted herself on the bed. Lots of books lay strewn across the bed, several from the regular library, several of her ‘special’ books, and quite a few files on previous inventions by other students at the school. They were busy trying to put together a project for their ‘Surgical Experimentation and Body Part Transplantation’ class, which was taught by Zippy’s favorite teacher, Miss Piranha. Miss Piranha was the most approachable teacher in the school, friendly and encouraging even if slightly ethically bankrupt like the rest of them. Her weird gothy fetish girl way of dressing was the sort of thing a teacher could only get away with in this school. Miss Piranha was very encouraging of Zippy’s work, and she really wanted to please her.

Also, Zippy and Lizzy needed something to make up for the disaster they’d had with their last project: a particle dispersing death ray that was supposed to disintegrate a chair but wound up putting a ten foot hole in the floor of Mr. Ecoli’s classroom. Zippy was sure it had been sabotaged, but they’d gotten an F on it anyways. Meaning they had to do something spectacular to keep their GPA up and themselves out of Madame Petri’s laboratory.

Across from where Zippy lay, Lizzy Malaria sat on the edge of the bed, also dressed in the school uniform. She leaned to one side, looking over the books, her dress also riding up a bit and showing the black lace panties she always wore. Lizzy was for the most part, Zippy’s own personal Wednesday Adams, and her best friend at the school. She was very pale skinned, having never really been in the sun for very long, and had long black flowing wavy hair, some of which she tied up high on either side of her head with long black silk ribbons. Her eyes were a dark brown color. He face was wide and pretty, giving her and eerie beauty that Zippy had come to enjoy. In conjunction with her appearance, Lizzy was playfully morbid and obsessed with the dark side of life, which meant that she fit right in with the school.

The dorm rooms were designed to accommodate four students, but since the student body was limited in size, they usually only held two.

Their thoughts were interrupted by the door banging open. They both looked up to see Cristobel Bell striding into their room like he owned the place. Zippy grimaced, Cristobel was one of her arch rivals and enemies, and a particular pain in the ass. He came from a very wealthy, long line of mad scientists and thought himself above everyone else, especially the girls. The problem was, he was actually quite brilliant, and aced all of his classes, showing up Zippy frequently, especially in Mr. DeSade’s ‘Genetic Manipulation’ class where he had actually done a Jurassic Park and cloned a velociraptor from 65 million year old dinosaur blood, although the thing had only lived for five minutes before vomiting some foul smelling crud and dropping dead on the floor. Somehow, Cristobel had managed to still get an A on that one.

The main reasons for Zippy’s particular loathing of Cristobel were two things: one, Cristobel’s family had an old world male view of life, and Cristobel hated and resented girls who did anything other then throw themselves at his feet. And two, one of Cristobel’s aborted class projects had involved an attempt to kidnap both her and Lizzy and perform some kind of head transplant surgery between the two of them. They had escaped, foiling Cristobel’s project, and Zippy was pretty sure it was him who had sabotaged their death ray.

Still, she had to admit, he was smart. He’d constructed a tissue reconstruction and regrowth device for Miss Piranha’s class that was sure to become a revolutionary medical advance. This meant they had to be very careful not to be shown up by him this time.

Cristobel was small, even for his age. He had thick black, wavy hair that he always kept neatly combed, and wide stunning blue eyes. His face was round and his nose slightly elongated. His clothes were always neat and pressed.

As he strolled through the door, Zippy could see Kevin Crowsfeet behind him in the hall. He remained outside and didn’t come in. Kevin was Cristobel’s best friend and usual partner. He had black hair that he wore slightly wild and thick eyebrows. He seemed like a nice guy, Zippy didn’t understand why he hung out with the likes of

Cristobel entered the room, a snide grin on his face, “Why hello, Ladies. Still trying to pretend you’re scientists I see.”

“What the hell do you want, Bell?” Zippy said angrily.

“Me? Why nothing of course, I just find it amusing to watch you little girls try to pretend that you could ever best a brilliant male scientist like me.” He laughed irritatingly, “And when I rub you faces in my next project, you’ll see boys make great scientists, and girls just make babies.”

“Keep telling yourself that when we make top list this semester.” Lizzy replied in her usual soft deep monotone.

“Ha! Don’t make me laugh,” Cristobel sneered, “What are you silly bitches gonna do? Blow up another part of the school? Give it up; you’ll never beat my project.”

“Oh?” Zippy asked levelly, “Is it gonna last long enough for us to see this time?”

Cristobel bristled, this was a sore spot with him, and the velociraptor had been a personal embarrassment, “Yeah? Laugh it up when Madame Petri is screwing around with your insides. This is real science, bimbos. And it’s a man’s domain that you to crybabies shouldn’t be playing in.”

With one hand Zippy flipped him a middle finger, “Go to hell, . Least we never had our daddies fix a grade for us.”

“Jealousy is unbecoming of a lady,” He taunted her, “Anyways, you know what they say: Boys rule, Girls drool.”

With a snotty laugh, Cristobel turned around and exited the room. Zippy stuck her tongue out at his back. She really hated that man.

Leveling her eyes at Cristobel’s retreating back, Lizzy muttered a curse, “A pox upon thee, foul arrogant prick.”

“Never mind him, let’s concentrate on what we need to do.” Zippy said, looking back to the books, “Any ideas?”

“How about a two headed transplant?” Lizzy suggested looking over a book titled The Basics of Unnecessary but Fun Surgery.

Zippy shook her head, “Naw, Tim Winderhien did one of those at the beginning of last semester, remember? I still have trouble talking to Kurt Marsters and knowing which head I’m supposed to look at.”

They continued searching through the books, looking for a potential project. Two basic requirements: It had to be amazing, and they had to be able to do it themselves. Zippy turned pages, looking for inspiration.

“I suppose we could make a boy pregnant?” She suggested to Lizzy.

“I believe some regular doctors did that just recently.” Lizzy sighed, “Besides, that would take too long, our project is due in a lot less then nine months.”

Suddenly, Zippy’s eyes lit up, looking at a page in a surgical book. The wheels in her head began to turn, and she began to tap the edge of the book like she always did whenever she got a good idea. Thought after thought connected, and suddenly, Zippy realized she was having the brilliant flood of inspiration she was looking for. A wide grin spread across her face as she looked over the books.

“How about this operation?” She suggested tapping the relevant page.

Lizzy leaned over and looked at what she was pointing too and then frowned, “That’s a pretty standard operation. Regular doctors do that all the time.”

Zippy waved a finger at her, “Yeah, but what if we make it better . . . way better . . . using this?”

She pushed one of her special books over to Lizzy and indicated the chapter. Lizzy lowered her head and read the title out loud.

“’Organ and Tissue Splicing for Transplantation and Tissue Alteration’” Lizzy read and began to read the instructions.

She was then handed another book by Zippy, and took a look at the title her friend had indicated, “Artificial Organ Construction and Cultivation from Biological Materials.”

After a bit, she had finished, and pursed her lips in thought, “That’s extraordinary. If we could do that surgery, using these techniques . . . we could revolutionize the whole procedure. Can we do it?”

“Yes,” Zippy nodded confidently, “Especially if we also use this . . .”

She dropped one of the student files across the bed. Lizzy took it and looked it over, a surprised expression on her face.

“Cristobel’s tissue regenerator and regrowth device? You really want to use that?” Lizzy asked her with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes I do.” Zippy said, “Give credit where credit is due: that device is quite brilliant, and it’ll cut healing and recovery down to a fraction of what it would be otherwise. Lemme show you what I have in mind.”

Hopping of the bed, Zippy grabbed a note pad off the desk and sat back down. She began to sketch out a rough diagram and set of instructions for what she had in mind. When she had finished, Lizzy stared at the diagram looking . . . well, as excited as Zippy had ever seen that girl get, which basically resembled a cougar. Sometimes, you really had to know Lizzy to understand her.

Lizzy took a deep breath, “We can do that. We can really do that.”

“And it would be a guaranteed show stopper.” Zippy added, grinning from ear to ear.

Raising an eyebrow at Zippy once more, Lizzy inquired, “Who in the world did you have in mind for a subject?”

Although the answer should have been plainly obvious, Zippy leaned over and whispered the name into Lizzy’s ear. And then something unusual and rare happened: A sinister smile spread across Lizzy’s face as her eyes lit up with excitement.



And so, one week later after Zippy and Lizzy had submitted their proposal to an excited and enthusiastic Miss Piranha and gotten the okay right off the bat. And after a long period of practice and study and after all the parts they needed had been procured, the two girls set their plan into motion.

Late one night, Cristobel Bell was walking back to the boy’s dorm having been working late on a project. Or at least pretending to be: Despite what he’d told everyone, he didn’t have a plan for his surgical project just yet. No ideas had come to him, but he was quite sure that when they did, they would be brilliant. He was, after all, the top student in the school, and a genius if he did say so himself. It was such a shame that not everyone could recognize that. Well, he’d prove it too them all eventually. One way or another they would all bow down to his superior intellect. He strolled down the halls, surrounded by the school’s strange décor: a mix of old fashioned gothic architecture and modern metal construction, that always looked like a cross between the interior of Castle Dracula and the inside of the Nautilus from 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea.

He turned a corner and frowned when he heard a soft moaning sound coming from up ahead. Moving forward he noticed a figure leaning against the wall: It was the Malaria girl, Elizabeth. As he got closer he could see that she was hunched over grabbing her leg, and was leaning on the wall her head tilted up and her eyes closed. He could see that she looked like she was in a lot of pain. She’d hurt herself somehow, that was obvious.

He smiled to himself: She had hurting something fierce. This was always fun, Cristobel didn’t like to get himself distracted by something as trivial as a woman, but it was too much fun to mess with them when they needed the help of man. The helpless little sluts needed a strong man to satisfy them, take care of them, and show them who was boss. Despite what they said, Cristobel knew that a woman was only happy at the feet of a strong man.

He stood in front of Lizzy; he could see that her hand gripped her legs, her chest heaving and rising, her hand moving on the injured area, massaging it in desperation.

She opened her eyes and gasped, blushing, when she saw him.

“Please,” She moaned, “I’ve got a cramp . . . please help me get to the nurses office. I need it.”

“What makes you think I’d give you the satisfaction?” Cristobel shrugged and made like he was about to go away.

He detected, for a fraction of a second, an exasperated rolling of the eyes in Lizzy, “Please, don’t leave me here. I’m hurt badly, I can’t stand it. I’m in pain; please I need your help.”

“Do you beg me for it?” He asked, “Do you beg your master for his help?”

There was a bit of a pause as Lizzy seemed to be waiting for something, and then, with an odd flash of anger, she lowered her head and winced.

“Yes, I beg you for it.” She cried, “Look how swollen it is, I can’t walk by myself.”

“Then ask me for it, say ‘I want you to help me, master’.” He said snidely.

Again, she paused as if waiting for something before saying, “I want you to help me, Master.”

Cristobel stared down at her clenched helpless form. Usually, the thought of having to touch Malaria would have given him shivers, but having her under his power like this was intoxicating. So intoxicating, that he didn’t notice Zippy rushing him from behind with a stun gun until it was too late.

His body convulsed as the voltage hit him, Zippy pressing the business end against the bare skin on the back of his neck, causing a loud buzzing noise as she hit the trigger. Cristobel made a startled gurgling noise the fell forward into Lizzy’s arms, unconscious, one leg still twitching. Lizzy held him up under his arms and Zippy quickly bent down grabbing his feet.

“Was it necessary to wait until after he had made me say those things?” Lizzy asked, heaving Cristobel’s unconscious form over so he was facing up.

“Complain later,” Zippy told her, “Let’s hurry and get him to the dungeon. I’ve reserved O.R. 26, Miss Piranha and all our equipment and material are there already.”

The two girls quickly carried their unconscious captive down the stairwell and over to the area where the sterile operating rooms were, nicknamed ‘The Dungeon’ by the students. As they entered number 26, they found Miss Piranha off to the side, waiting enthusiastically for them.

Miss Piranha was a tall, young woman in her late twenties. She was exceedingly beautiful with creamy, pale white skin, large red sensuous lips, wide brown eyes, deep black hair, large breasts, curvy voluptuous hips, and long slender legs. She kept her hair tied in high pig tails on both sides of her head. She was dressed in a tight, black leather dress that replicated the look of a nurse’s outfit, complete with red crosses over each of her breasts. Her dress was short and form fitting, her top low cut and exposing her ample cleavage. She wore knee high, stiletto heeled black leather boots that clicked loudly on the floor. Just to complete the effect, she wore a black nurse’s hat on her head with another red cross on it. She looked for all the world like a bondage fetish model, rather then a science teacher. She carried a pen and a notebook with her.

She beamed happily when she saw them, “Why, hello there, my little Frankensteins. How are you, are you ready to get started?”

“Hi, Miss Piranha.” Zippy replied jovially, “We sure are.”

“Everything you requested is in place.” Miss Piranha informed them, “I can’t wait to see you work on this. It’s so exciting.”

The two girls came in carrying the unconscious form of Cristobel between them.

Lizzy dryly remarked, “Thank you. Mr. Bell has gladly consented to be the subject.”

Miss Piranha smiled slyly, “’Gladly’, huh? I’m sure he did. Throw him up on the table and then start sterilizing yourselves.”

The operating room was you standard OR, more or less like the kind you’d find in any regular hospital. The operating table lay in the center, and trays containing all the surgical instruments sat near it. On a table off to the side were several refrigerated containers labeled ‘live organs’. Zippy and Lizzy tossed Cristobel on the table and after properly anesthetizing him; they went and sterilized their hands before putting on their scrubs and masks, which at Madame Petri’s were a blood red color instead of green.

Properly prepared, they both returned to the table and quickly cut away all of Cristobel’s clothes. That not unpleasant task done, Zippy picked up the scalpel, and after Lizzy swabbed and disinfected the area; she carefully made the first incision. They began to work, carefully, and diligently, performing the surgery with delicate precision, skillfully going through the process, the entire procedure having been carefully mapped out in a file before the operation. Under both Zippy and Lizzy’s skilled hands, the procedure went off without a hitch, being completely done in just a little over six hours.



Thanks to the tissue regenerator, the patient was fully healed and recovered by the next day, and as such, was finally taken off the sedatives that had kept him unconscious.

As the drugs slowly wore off, Cristobel groggily regained consciousness, sluggishly trying to recall where he was and how he had gotten here. His brain was still in a fog as he struggled with his memory. He was at the school somewhere, but where? What had happened to him? He struggled to recall, his eyes still closed.

And then he remembered with a sickening feeling in his stomach; he’d been ambushed! The Zipperdale girl had taken him for one of her projects. Chills ran through him, what had they done to him? He became conscious that he was lying on what felt like an operating table. He tied to sit up, hearing Zippy’s voice talking next to him some feet away.

“With a conventional version of the surgery, the organ is reshaped to as close an approximation of the new one as possible. It is not perfect, and does not quite function in the same way. With the advances in tissue splicing and merging, we can now blend the new organ with the reshaped original, thus giving the patient and completely and totally authentic one.” Zippy’s voice said, addressing someone.

He pushed himself up, his head swirling around him, and swung his legs over the side of the table. He felt all wrong, like his body was not his own. He tried to focus, to clear through the fog in his head. Surgery, they’d performed surgery on him. Horror swirled in his brain; they’d cut him and altered him somehow. But how? What had they done to him? He realized that he was wearing a hospital gown, but he didn’t care. He was more concerned with what sort of surgery had been performed on him.

He heard Miss Piranha’s high pitched squeaky voice, “Oh! Ladies, it looks like your patient is finally awake.”

“W-what did you do . . . to me?” He muttered, and cringed as he didn’t recognize the voice that came out.

He opened his eyes and saw that he was in Miss Piranha’s classroom. He had been lying on a hospital bed that had been brought into the front of the classroom, which had a raised front area for demonstrations. A standing room only gaggle of students watched from the front, and he could see Zippy and Lizzy wearing lab coats over their school uniforms. Everyone stared at him with rapt attention, in a way that made his skin crawl; he shook his head trying to clear it. He heard a small squeaking sound and saw Miss Piranha pushing a large full length mirror on wheels over to him.

“Oh, it’s amazing!” Miss Piranha exclaimed, addressing him, “It’s simply incredible, you wouldn’t believe it? I can scarcely believe it myself, and to think it was done by my very own students. Ah, I am so proud I’m getting goose bumps.”

Miss Piranha placed the mirror in front of him, “You’ve just received the most advanced gender reassignment surgery ever!”

His jaw dropped open in shock as he looked at the pretty brunette girl reflected in the mirror: He wasn’t a he anymore! He was a she!

Miss Piranha went on like it was the most normal thing imaginable, “You should know, the class took a vote, and we decided to change your name to ‘Krystal’. Isn’t that great, it’s a lovely name?”

‘Krystal’ stared at herself in complete and total astonishment, not wanting to believe what her eyes were telling her. This couldn’t be, they couldn’t have done this to her. She jumped up off the bed and gaped at her reflection, a gnawing feeling of despair working its way in the pit of her stomach. She did not recognize herself at all in the polished glass.

Her black wavy hair was now long, going down well past her shoulders. Her face was rounder, her cheekbones higher and her nose small and unobtrusive. Her eyes were wider and more rounded, and her eyelashes were considerably longer. She was actually very pretty. Her body was thinner, and more feminine, with slender arms and legs and smaller shoulders then she’d had when she was a guy. She was curvy, that was for sure, with rounded hips and large sized breasts that felt heavy on her chest. Her skin was smoother and softer, completely and totally hairless all over that she could see and slightly lighter in color.

With complete trepidation, she dropped her eyes to her pubic area, turning away from the class and taking a fearful look. Carefully, she lifted her gown and gave herself a quick anatomy check. She let out a high pitched yelping squeak of shock: It was gone! His manhood was gone! She’d known what she was going to see, of course, but just looking at it for real was quite a shock. She whimpered miserably, looking at what now lay between her legs where her symbol of masculinity should have been. She clapped both hands over her mouth and to her shame felt tears welling up in her eyes. Damn, she was starting to cry . . . to cry like a girl.

But he’d been castrated! Those bitches had emasculated him, leaving him as she was now. Her brain grasped at straws to steady itself. Wait, a sex change wasn’t really the same thing as being castrated, not really. Contrary to popular belief, very little of the penis is removed during gender reassignment surgery. She’d heard Zipperdale saying something to the effect of with splicing it with an actual vagina. So she hadn’t really been castrated, that was something. Her mind continued to grasp at those straws as her legs felt weak.

She gasped a little as she felt arms come around her from behind. Miss Piranha had gone behind her and was hugging her from the rear.

“Welcome to the fold, sister.” She squealed happily and then let go, leaving the girl now known as Krystal to flush from mortification and fury.

“What he hell did you do to me?” She wailed in anguish.

“Well, specifically,” Zippy began, talking half to her and half to the class, “We’ve used the latest in tissue and gene splicing technology to graft new body parts onto the old ones and create a much more authentic female body then conventional transgender surgery was capable of.”

“Also new is that we were able to graft actual undeveloped mammary glands in the breast muscles. We strove to find some good genetics so I guarantee you, those babies are at least a C cup.”

“I appreciate that.” The former Cristobel mumbled darkly, the sentence dripping with sarcasm.

“The rest of the cosmetic surgery was of the conventional type,” Zippy continued, “Face and body restructuring done in the standard way, but the recovery time was negligible mainly because of our subject’s invention of the tissue regenerator. Which, incidentally, we were able to slightly reconfigure to generate rapid hair re-growth, which is how we gave her such beautiful hair.”

That surprised ‘Krystal’, “Wha . . . you used my tissue regenerator?”

“Yes.” Zippy nodded, “And it works wonders. I believe in giving credit where credit is due, and your tissue regenerator was quite brilliant. We also used a combination of electrolysis and chemical hair remover to permanently remove all the body hair, except on the head and eyebrows. Not only will she never have to shave her face, but she won’t ever have to worry about her legs or pits.

“But what I’m most proud of is our internal work: Although she can’t get pregnant, and rest assured, she won’t start menstruating, we used the tissue splicing technology to give her a full compliment of female reproductive organs. Not only is there a vulva, but she also has a cervix, uterus, and two uterine tubes, the whole nine yards. Where the ovaries would be, we have inserted a pair of artificial organs that, while they don’t produce any eggs, do produce all the estrogenic hormones that would have to be administered constantly by injection for the rest of the subject’s life in a conventional transgender surgery. With these artificial organs we have constructed, our subject will continue to produce estrogen all on her own for the rest of her life, without ever having to receive it from an outside source.”

“Can you turn me back?” Krystal angrily demanded, cutting off Zippy’s speech.

“Excellent question, Miss Bell.” Zippy said, in full teacher mode now, “Alas, no, we cannot change you back, the procedure is not perfect. Any attempt we made to reconstruct your reconstructed genitalia would most likely render you a eunuch, and we don’t want to do that. So we’re a long way from being able to change your gender when the mood takes you just by going to a salon.”

Krystal jolted at the word ‘eunuch’. No, she didn’t want that. If it came down to it, she’d rather be a functioning female then an impotent male. Nausea welled up in her stomach along with anger; it looked like she was stuck like this; stuck in a girl’s body, small, frail, not like her old one at all. She tried to calm herself, to think logically like she always did when there was a problem. Try to think of the positives, which usually helped. She stared at the mirror, looking at her reflection. The only positive that came to mind was that she was that she was actually very pretty. At least Zipperdale hadn’t made her really ugly. Come to think of it, Zippy had actually made her prettier then herself. Some kind of apology maybe?

She gripped the edge of the table to steady herself, her mind swimming with panic. She didn’t know what to do, how to cope with this. The class was applauding as Zippy brought her presentation to a close. Krystal looked out at the assembled students, she could see a few of Zipperdale’s cronies out there in the mix. The two Ferrell Twins were up front, and she could see the Matsuma girl as well, though it was hard to tell which one she was at the moment. Quite a few of the students had camera phones and kept taking pictures of her.

Then she looked and saw something that made her gasp: Kevin Crowsfeet was standing in the front watching the presentation, grinning from ear to ear. Krystal blushed as she saw her best friend staring at her underdressed transfigured form. For some reason, she was more embarrassed to be seen by him then anyone else. She felt her face warm up as she turned red and quickly looked away from him. Her mind was conflicted and tormented, trying to latch on to her new identity. She felt tears welling up again, and tried to will herself not to cry in front of everyone.

There was a familiar clicking sound of stiletto heels as Miss Piranha went up in front of the class, “You’ll all be happy to know, that I have given this project an A+, that will be shared by all participants, including Miss Bell, since not only was she the subject, but her invention of the Tissue Regenerator was used in the process.”

The class applauded excitedly. Krystal thought, well, at least her grades wouldn’t suffer. Small comfort that it was. She shifted uncomfortably as the feeling of panic got stronger, making her breathing deepen.

“Also, as is the policy for important developments at the school,” Miss Piranha continued, “We have submitted a patent on the procedure in the name of all three students.”

More applause from the class.

“Huh?” Krystal asked, perplexed, “All three?”

“Yes, Krystal.” Miss Piranha put an arm around her naked shoulders, “Since it was your invention that helped the procedure, you share in the patent ownership.”

Sweet, thought Krystal.

Miss Piranha talked to the class, “As always, I ask that everyone make Krystal feel welcome and included in her new form. She is a fellow student, and I expect to you all to accept her as such and help her adjust to her new life. Okay, everybody?”

There were sounds of assent from the class and few cheers and hollers.

The Matsura girl piped up, “I volunteer to take her shopping! We can buy her some sexy things.”

That was definitely Madoka talking there, Krystal realized. The class cheered and whistled and a few made cat calls. Miss Piranha laughed jovially with them.

And then Kevin put up his hand, “I volunteer to be her first boyfriend.”

He said it in a laughing, jokey way and the classroom and laughed happily at his comment, but Krystal blushed and felt her heart flutter a little bit, mostly out of embarrassment. That was her best friend out there offering to be her boyfriend, and she found the idea humiliating yet exciting at the same time.

Damn, et tu Kevin?

She stood up strait, preparing to tell everyone off, when her knees buckled a little bit. She was still unused to her new proportions. Krystal fell back against the bed, her chest rising and falling as fear and confusion ran rampant through her body.

Leaning on the bed, Krystal tried to get herself under control as Miss Piranha dismissed the class and they all filed out of the room talking excitedly about what they’d just seen.

Spying her motions, Zippy came over with a look of concern on her face, “Are you alright? You’re not in any pain are you?”

The classroom was now empty except for Krystal, Zippy, Lizzy and Miss Piranha.

“I’m just pissed.” Krystal hissed between clenched teeth, “What do you care? You did this to me.”

Zippy ignored the comment, “You shouldn’t be in any pain. Are you sure you’re alright? You’re face looks flushed and you eyes are dilated. It looks like you’re sweating a little bit on the forehead, too. Maybe I should do another physical exam?”

“No.” Krystal insisted, “

Lizzy looked down at her and then across at Zippy, “I believe that’s a successful experiment?”

Zippy gave her an enthusiastic high five, and the two of them quickly got cleaned up. As they put their clothes on, Krystal remained on the table, staring at the tiles, her arms wrapped around herself, seeming to be in a state of mild shock as she digested what had just happened to her. Zippy and Lizzy finished gathering their stuff and headed out, Zippy blowing Krystal a kiss as she left.

“Bye, sweetie. You’ll love being a girl.” She cheered, “No need to thank us.”

They left the classroom, leaving Krystal alone on the table, trembling, while Miss Piranha shoved some of her paperwork back into her desk. She then went over to a drawer and reached inside, pulling something out. With a quick motion, she turned around and walked over to Krystal, her stiletto heels clicking on the floor. She stopped next to her and knelt down.

Miss Piranha said, soothingly, “Miss Bell, as your teacher, you can come to me for whatever you need to help you make this adjustment. I’ll always be here for you, and my door is always open for whatever you need, understand? I’m your friend, and since you’re a girl now, your sister. I’m here to help you make this transition as easy as possible.”

Krystal turned to her, her eyes now filled with tears that dripped down her cheeks, “I don’t know what to do. I’ve always known exactly who I was and what I was meant to be. I don’t know that any more. What am I supposed to do with myself now?”

“Well,” Miss Piranha answered, “For starters, it’s time to get dressed, young lady.”

Miss Piranha held out a brand new girl’s uniform for her.

“I have to wear that?” Krystal moaned, clapping a hand on her head

“Sure do, its school policy. Don’t worry, you’ll look great.” Miss Piranha sang happily, “And these too.”

She was holding up a pair of white panties. Krystal flushed red as she stared at them, “Ah, I can’t wear those.”

“Of course you can, young lady.” Miss Piranha stated sternly, “It’s not like you can go around wearing boy’s underwear anymore.”

Numb from the experience, Krystal took them and started to step into them, blushing red all over at the prospect.

“Woah, sweetie, you’re putting those on backwards.” Miss Piranha admonished.

“Oh,” Krystal lamely remarked, feeling stupid as she turned them around and started pulling them up.

She felt her face go warm as she felt the smooth cotton slide over her body. Her face was red all over. She couldn’t believe she was standing here wearing girl’s underwear, and the fact that she actually was a girl now didn’t make it any less embarrassing. Miss Piranha handed her the rest of the outfit.



Still in a bit of a daze, Krystal took it and began to clumsily put it one, having an immense amount of trouble zipping the skirt in the back, and finally Miss Piranha had to help her. She also found the long black nylons troublesome, almost falling over twice as she pulled them on. Was being a girl really this complicated? When she was eventually completely dressed, she was quickly ushered out of the class room and into the hall, with instructions to go see the school clerk for new paperwork.

Krystal walked down the hallways feeling miserable. Her life was over: Now she’d never be the scion of the family fortune. Tears began to well up in her eyes again, but she fought them down. She’d heard Zipperdale; any attempt to turn her back to Cristobel would probably result in him becoming a eunuch. She shuddered. As a female, she could not inherit any of the family fortune, in the family, only males could. But as a eunuch, hell, Cristobel would probably be disowned and abandoned. It was a hell of a situation: If she couldn’t go back to being the way she was, she was better off the way she was now. At least she could marry some rich schmuck from another family and get her millions that way.

She imagined the words ‘I now pronounce you man and wife’ and pictured some guy leaning over to kiss her and shuddered in revulsion all over her body. Ugh . . . would it really come down to that?

She had to get back at Zipperdale somehow, but that would have to wait. She had to think logically. The first order of business was to learn how to live in this new body, much as she loathed the prospect. Well, at least she wouldn’t be on the rag, but she knew nothing else about how to be a girl. She’d need some help and she’d need some insight.

And for the first time in her life, Krystal really just needed someone to talk to. She considered going back and asking Miss Piranha.

As she kept walking, she heard a familiar voice and she perked up: Amber! Amber would help her; Amber was always begging to help her, along with constantly professing her undying love and admiration. Hell, she and her friends always had followed her around before; hanging on Cristobel’s every move like it was the most important thing in the world. When she was Cristobel, she’d loved the god like feeling that those girls’ adulation brought to him. Yeah, Amber and her friends would do whatever Cristobel asked them too, they’d have to help out Krystal now.

She quickly ran around the corner and saw Amber, with her long blonde hair talking to her two best friends, Tiffany and Charity, who had duplicate hairstyles. Amber was complaining about being partnered with someone whose father only made six figures when Krystal approached her.

“Uh, Hi, Amber.” She said, somewhat sheepishly.

The three turned around and when they saw Krystal, they all dissolved into cruel laughs, almost causing Krystal to wince. I wasn’t the reception she had expected; she’d thought they’d show her some concern, and least offer to help.

“Oh, hello, ‘Krystal’.” Amber said, the word dripping with sarcasm as her friends giggled maliciously behind her.

With an even deeper pit of despair opening in her stomach, Krystal pressed on, “Listen, Amber, I need your help.”

“Really,” Amber said, her eyebrows raised with contempt, “And why am I gonna help you?”

“What are you talking about? You always help me. Didn’t you say you loved me more then anything?”

“And you believed that? Listen, ‘Krystal’, you were an asshole. An arrogant, stuck up, irritating prick.”

“Then why the hell’d you say those things to me?”

“Cause I wanted my cut of those billions you were going to inherit. Oh, come on, you really think I’d spend all that time with you and all your self important non-sense for any other reason? I figured I’d spend a few years working on you and then marry into money right out of high school.”

“Isn’t that reason enough to help me now?”

“Listen, loser, now that you’ve had your dick chopped off . . .”

“They didn’t chop it off, bitch. The reshaped it.”

“Whatever! Now that you’re a girl, are you still gonna inherit all your money?”

The yawning pit beneath Krystal was getting bigger by the second. This was not happening the way she thought it would. She sure as hell couldn’t ask for help on being feminine now, she’d have to try a different approach. She was quiet for a bit before responding.

She said, “No, but there’s gotta be a way to turn me back.”

Tiffany spoke up, “Hey, we were in there. It someone tries to turn you back, you turn into a flaccid little castrated wanker boy. Isn’t that right?”

Krystal persisted, “But there’s gotta be some way . . .”

Amber stepped forward, looking Krystal right in the eyes, “Listen, slut, I don’t date girls, and I don’t date paupers.”

The trio all laughed spitefully and turned their back and Krystal, walking on their own, leaving Krystal deflated and shattered behind them. Quickly steeling herself, Krystal sought out more of her associations from before. One after one, they all gave her the same treatment. Without her money, they had no reason to put up with her.

Person after person that she talked to, all seemed to have hated her guts in secret, and now, with no promise of reward, they roundly rejected her. Krystal found herself wandering the halls alone, her confidence broken, and her world destroyed.

Krystal shuddered and leaned against the wall: It was all lies, all of it. She’d thought of those people as her willing servants no matter what. As a member of the family, she’d taken their adulation for granted. It was over now, there was nothing left. She had no fortune to bribe people with, no title to put in front of her name. She was just a girl, to be married off to make the family ties stronger. There wasn’t a single person from her former life that would help her out now. For the first time in her life, she was totally and completely all alone.

She slid down the wall, collapsing to the floor, the tears now flowing uncontrollably as she sobbed and shivered in misery, her knees pulled up to her chin, her face buried behind them, her arms folded on top. She cried, her body shaking in desolation and hopelessness, feeling lost, small and all alone.

She sat there on the floor, curled up like a shrimp, weeping despondently until a familiar voice got her attention.

“Cristobel . . . I mean, Krystal . . . is that you?”

Krystal looked up; her face wet from the tears, and saw Kevin Crowsfeet looking down at her with an expression of concern on her his face.

“Did you come to make fun of me too?” She asked, her voce breaking up through the sobs.

“No.” He answered simply.

There was a bit of a pause, where neither of them said anything, and then Kevin sat down on the floor next to her.

He sighed and said, “I wish I had something really good to say, but I don’t.”

“Everything’s so messed up.” Krystal sobbed, “My whole life is over. Everyone I thought was my friend seems to think that I was just an obnoxious asshole.”

“That’s true.” Kevin admitted.

“If that’s true then why the hell are you being so nice to me?” She asked him incredulously.

Kevin shrugged, “Because I’ve been your best friend since kindergarten and I know that there’s more to you then the snotty little brat you present to everybody.”

She didn’t have an answer for that, so she just kept silent. Again, they sat quietly next to each other, saying nothing.

Finally, Krystal muttered, “I don’t know what to do.”

Kevin seemed to choose his words carefully before answering, “Well, you know, this is the nature of our school. You wouldn’t be the first person to have to deal with a radical physical change being forced on them.”

“I guess your right.”

“What you probably need to do, what everyone else who’s been altered here has probably done, is look forward instead of looking back: Find how to make this new body work for you. Do you remember when you kidnapped Sharon Whitterson? You amputated both her feet and spliced on hands where they used to be?”

“Yeah, she was pretty pissed.”

“But have you seen her lately?”

“No.”

“She uses those extra hands all the time. Grabbing stuff when her hands are full, taking notes while studying in class and you should hear her play the piano.”

“That’s fascinating but I don’t see what it has to do with me.”

“Sharon took this radical unexpected change, and she owned it. She made the best she possibly could out of it. And being a girl is a lot less bizarre a change then having hands where your feet should be.”

“I guess your right.”

“So you need to stop worrying about old Cristobel, and start thinking about new Krystal.”

She considered his words in silence for a while, before she finally spoke again. He was right, there was no going back. She could lie down and give up or she could get back up and fight. She bit her lip as she thought about it.

“I don’t know how to be a girl.” She said.

“I can’t really help you there.” Kevin replied, “Maybe you should ask Miss Piranha?”

“Yikes! Then I’d be coming to school in six inch stiletto heels and a ball gag in my mouth.” Krystal exclaimed.

At that, they both exploded into uncontrollable laughter. They both giggled hysterically for a while before composing themselves. It was the best Krystal had felt since waking up in Miss Piranha’s class.

“Well, you’re going to need someone’s help. You can’t do this alone.” Kevin said still chuckling.

Kevin was right, Krystal realized, she’d need some help in dealing with her new form. She’d have to find someone who would be willing to help her out, to teach her what she needed to know about being a girl. Someone who would consider it her responsibility to instruct her, maybe Miss Variola . . . ?

With a sudden sickening feeling, Krystal realized exactly who she should be going to for help. The prospect made her stomach churn, but it was the best option.

The thought was interrupted as Kevin put an arm around her. Krystal gasped at the close intimate contact. She turned and looked at her life long friend, slightly surprised.

Kevin said, “Listen, I’m still your friend. And that isn’t going to change no matter what happens.”

The bell for the next class rang. Kevin stood up and pulled Krystal to her feet, “So when you need me for something, don’t hesitate to ask, I’ll always be there for you.”

“Thank you.” Krystal smiled.

“And hey, look on the bright side: At least you’re one of the prettiest girls in the school now.” Kevin said smiling at her.

Krystal choked with shock and blushed all through her face, “Uh . . . thank you.”

With a friendly wave, Kevin went off down the hall. Krystal stared after him with new appreciation. She thought of his face long after he was gone: Her only companion and the only one who would always be there for her. She clutched her hands to her chest, feeling butterflies in her stomach thinking about it, and a warm feeling of affection for her best friend in the whole world. She blushed through the cheeks as the strange thoughts assailed her.

Realizing what she was feeling, she clutched her hands to her chest and muttered, “Oh . . . god no.”

She shoved it aside, and headed for the clerk’s office, thinking instead on how to get the help she’d need.



And so, much later that night, back in their dorm room, Zippy and Lizzy sat on their beds, lounging around in their underwear, tossing around ideas for their next project, for Miss Variola’s “Artificial Life Form Creation” class, which wasn’t due for quite some time, but they hoped to have a plan early so they could get to work on it with plenty of time to spare. As they threw ideas around, there was a knock at the door. Zippy, got up to go answer it.

When she opened the door, she found Krystal standing outside, dressed neatly in her new uniform, the short dress revealing much of her legs. She looked at Zippy with a determined expression on her face. She held a large cardboard box in her arms.

“May I come in?” Krystal asked, “I want to talk to you in private.”

After a moment of consideration, Zippy shrugged and let her come in. Krystal moved past Zippy and into the room, and then turned around as soon as the door was shut.

She spoke, “Zipperdale, you did this to me, so you’ve got to take responsibility for it.”

Zippy eyed her suspiciously; after all, this did used to be Cristobel, “What do you mean?”

Krystal dropped the box on the floor, Zippy looked at it and could see that it was filled with make up of all sorts, various hair clips, fashion magazines and other girl oriented periodicals, and a host of other female specific items, which she seemed to have gathered up. Zippy raised an eyebrow at the collection and then looked back up at Krystal and was surprised to see a hopeful, pleading look on her face.

Rapidly, Krystal said, “Wontyoupleaseteachmehowtobeagirl.”

“Huh?” Zippy asked not unreasonably.

Taking a deep breath, Krystal said, “Won’t you please teach me how to be a girl?”

“What?” Zippy asked in complete surprise, “Why me?”

“Like I said, you did this to me.” Krystal said levelly, “You should be the one to help me.”

Zippy raised a suspicious eyebrow at her, “What are you up to?”

“I’m not up to anything, I just don’t know how to be a girl, and I need your help.” Krystal protested.

Zippy didn’t believe her, she was sure she was up to something. Since the procedure, she and Lizzy had been worrying about what sort of revenge Krystal might try to get. And it simply hadn’t been like Cristobel to admit when he needed help. This idea was highly doubtful.

“You’re out of you mind if you think I’m believing this.” Zippy replied evenly, “Why in the world would you come to me with this? Why not go to one of those bimbos you always hung around with? Why come to me instead of to your friends?”

A strange, hurt expression came across Krystal’s face, a look Zippy had never seen before on her. For a split second, Zippy thought Krystal was actually going to cry. Krystal made a few motions with her mouth like she was about to say something, and the cast her eyes down on the floor, looking humiliated and despondent. Without a word, she sank to the one of the nearby beds and sat down, clutching and unclutching her hands nervously.

Not meeting Zippy’s gaze, Krystal said, “I don’t have any friends, okay?”

“Color me stunned.” Lizzy said evenly.

“Shush.” Zippy admonished her, this looked serious.

Zippy crouched down in front of Krystal. Something was wrong here, this didn’t look like acting. Zippy more or less could tell when someone was lying to her, genius I.Q. and all, and Krystal didn’t seem to be.

“What do you mean?” Zippy asked her.

“I . . . all those people that hung around with me,” Krystal explained, not meeting Zippy’s gaze, “They only did it because of my money, and my ties to the family fortune. They won’t have anything to do with me now.”

“Huh? Why not?” Zippy asked perplexed, “You’re still an heir to the family?”

With a bit of anger, Krystal replied, “No, I’m not. In my family, only the male children inherit the money. Females can’t inherit a cent; it’s the way the family has worked for centuries. Now that I’m a girl, I have no claim to my inheritance whatsoever. I have nothing. As soon as my parents find out, I’ll be cut off from all the capital.”

Stunned to hear this, Zippy lamely remarked, “I didn’t know that.”

Zippy was beginning to feel a little guilty. This was a lot worse a result then she’d expected. She hadn’t intended to completely ruin the guy’s life, just change it completely. She’d hoped once he became a girl, she’d mellow out. This was all wrong. Maybe Krystal was right, maybe she should be doing something to fix this.

“Yeah, well, now you do.” Krystal wiped away the beginnings of a tear, “I’ll be lucky if they don’t pull me out of Madame Petri’s and put me in some charm school. Everything I had before is gone now, because of you.”

“Hey, you tried to chop my head off, remember?” Zippy said defensively.

“Touché.” Krystal muttered darkly, “I don’t want to fight with you, because I need your help. I need to learn how to be a girl; my only hope now is that one day I’ll be selected to marry someone from another powerful family to strengthen the position of the family. It’s all I’ve got left.”

Zippy stood up immediately, barely believing her ears, “Did I just get into a time machine and travel back to the Middle Ages? What the hell is with this backwards male superiority crap? Jesus, Krystal, nobody thinks like that anymore.”

“It’s the family traditions.” Krystal insisted.

“Well, don’t get mad at me, but screw the family.” Zippy announced, pulling Krystal to her feet with her hands on her shoulders and shaking her poignantly, “You don’t need them, you’re a scientific genius. You can make your way in the world without them.”

“But I’m just a girl now.” Krystal whined, “I don’t think I can . . .”

“Pull yourself together! Of course you can. You don’t need their money; those patents from the stuff you’ve helped invent in the school are all in your name. Your personal name, not the family’s. Just the Tissue Regenerator and our Transgender Surgery alone will nab you enough royalties to see you through till graduation.”

“Not to mention hand on foot transplants and smelly dinosaur corpses.” Lizzy interjected with her usual dry humor.

“Shush.” Zippy admonished her again.

Krystal was staring off at the wall, biting her lip as she thought about it. Her eyes began to light up as she tossed what Zippy was saying to her around in her head. So much had changed, and Zippy realized it was very hard for her to let go of all these antiquated preconceived notions of gender. After a very long time, her face began to lighten and relax.

“You . . . y-you’re right, Zipperdale.” Krystal said her voice shaky but gaining confidence, “I think, I can do this. Maybe I was wrong all this time . . . maybe I can still be a mad scientist.”

“I know you can.” Zippy told her firmly, “Don’t let anyone else tell you what you have to be, you can make that choice for yourself. So you’re a girl now, you still can make the most of your life.”

“Yeah, Kevin told me something similar.” Krystal said, “He’s the only one who still talking to me. Still my best friend.”

“Are you blushing?” Zippy asked leaning in to Krystal’s face.

“N-no! Of course not.” Krystal replied, hurriedly.

“Hmmm, is there some other reason you want to be more feminine?” Zippy looked at her with a wink.

Krystal’s blush deepened, “Cut it out! Of course not!”

Zippy, grinned a little, looking at her. She didn’t really believe her. Maybe something else happened to make her want to be so feminine. Maybe something a little special.

Krystal plopped back on the bed, rubbing her hands on her chin, “I’ll still need your help, Zippy. I don’t know how to function on my own; I’ve always depended on the family for everything. And I still don’t know the first thing about being a girl.”

Zippy realized it was the first time Krystal had ever called her by her first name. Maybe more was changing in Krystal then just her body.

“Well, to start with,” Zippy said looking at her, “You need to remember when you’re wearing a skirt. I totally see your panties right now.”

Krystal had flopped own on the bed like a boy, sitting with her legs wide open, her skirt riding up and exposing the underwear Miss Piranha had given her. Her hands rested on her knees in a very un-feminine pose.

Krystal raised an eyebrow a Zippy, “Huh? But you’re wearing nothing but underwear right now, both of you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Zippy said, “And its okay when we’re alone, but when we’re in public . . . well, it’s just not feminine.”

With a bit of a roll of her eyes, Krystal nodded and closed her legs, resting her hands on her knees. Lizzy looked at Krystal and then over at Zippy with a look of alarm.

“Wait . . . Zippy,” Lizzy said, “You’re not actually thinking of helping her, are you? I mean, for all you know, this could be some kind of trap to get revenge. We could wake up with our heads on the wrong bodies.”

Zippy looked over Krystal, her eyebrows knitted as she considered her “I don’t think so. Look at her, she’s desperate. She really has lost everything. And it is our responsibility to help her adjust, you heard Miss Piranha.”

With a smile and look of gratitude never before seen on her face in all her years, Krystal stood up again.

“And besides,” Zippy added, “If we keep notes and monitor her progress as she adjusts to her new life as a girl, we can pass it off as . . .”

“A sociological experiment!” Lizzy finished for her, “You’re right! Extra credit!”

A smile rose on Krystal’s face. To Zippy’s complete surprise, Krystal suddenly grabbed her and hugged her, squeezing her so tight she couldn’t get a breath.

“Thank you!” She said.

“Ow!” Zippy cried, “Krystal! You’re squeezing me too tight!”

Krystal let her go, and smiled sheepishly, “Sorry. I’ve never given anyone a hug before.”

“Seriously?” Zippy looked at her astonished.

Krystal shook her head, “It’s considered weak in my family.”

“Yikes.” Was Zippy’s only comment.

“So,” Lizzy interjected, “How are we going to go about doing this project?”

Krystal fished a piece of paper out of one of her pockets, “Well, you’ll have plenty of time. Since I’m a girl now, they gave me a new dorm assignment. As of now, I’m your new room mate.”

“WHAT?!?” Zippy and Lizzy both cried out at once.

‘Sup, bitches? Madoka’s in da house! In the next chapter, Zippy tries to help Krystal adjust to being a girl, an, ya’ know, not be such a bitch anymore. And she also starts looking for a new experiment to perform in the next chapter of Zipper Zipperdale: Moderately Mad Scientist “The Fifth Experiment”.

EurekaI’ve got it!