Pandemic Girl: A Real Life Dystopian Gender Transformation Romance

By Alyson Belle

It’s a fate worse than death for Justin and his fellow inmates...

When a shocking mutation of the super-virulent coronavirus starts changing healthy, adult men into fully grown women, America goes into a panic and locks the country down, but not before 90% of the male population has been transformed! Justin Watters is just an average guy who was one of the lucky 10% that managed to avoid the strange new plague which experts dubbed FEMVI-1, and the newly-established FEMPOL government agency pays him handsomely to do his part to repopulate the country. But when a jilted ex knowingly exposes him to the virus, everything changes for him...

Justin is captured and taken to one of FEMPOL’s containment and re-education “Girl Camps,” where he’s assigned a new name and handled by cruel guards while his distressing transformation slowly progresses. Every day, he and his fellow inmates are required to sit through femininity classes and taught FEMPOL’s “proper methods of being women” to help their eventual re-integration into society. The only bright spot is his beautiful fellow inmate Marissa, who comforts him in the bunks at night and helps him adjust to his new body and life.

But as their forbidden love blossoms in the harsh conditions of the camp, Marissa and “Justine” make a sinister discovery about FEMPOL’s real plans for them and all the other American men inflicted by FEMVI-1 that’s worse than anything they could have ever imagined. Can they find a way to escape the camp and flee for the safety of the border to live together in peace, or will they fail and have every memory of their old lives and selves eliminated by the ultimate FEMPOL re-education training program?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alyson Belle
• Release date: Mar 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005529840

Alyson Belle

Alyson Belle is a bestselling romance and erom author who has had a passion for transformation and body swap stories for as long as she can remember. She now delights in sharing her passion with the world by writing some of the sexiest stories around. With Alyson in control, your hottest fantasy ever is always just a click away...~~~ Visit my site for a FIVE FREE BOOKS including a copy of Forbidden Flirtations, a sexy, sizzling-hot story you can only get on my website! ~~~ Copy and Paste URL: http://alysonbelle.com/free-books/

Book preview

Pandemic_Girl

PANDEMIC GIRL

by

Alyson Belle

Copyright © 2020 Alyson Belle

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

All characters in this book are over the age of 18 (18+ only). All characters, locations, and situations are entirely fictional representations and any resemblance to real world scenarios are entirely coincidental.

You can see more of Alyson Belle’s work, get in touch, and follow her blog on AlysonBelle.com.

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Chapter 1

"Mmm, that was amazing. You’re amazing, Justin."

Karen (or maybe her name was Katie? It was hard to keep track these days) rolled herself off of me, still shuddering with pleasure, wrapped her arms around the back of her legs, and lifted them into the air, bouncing happily in the wake of our lovemaking. There was a time in my life where those actions would have confused me—where I never would have even gotten to see someone do this, but now I recognized them as a way to keep my seed in her body a little longer and increase her chances of getting pregnant. All the girls I slept with did that now. It was the recommended method from the reproduction guidelines published by FEMPOL, and we were all good, obedient citizens of the USA.

I was still warm and relaxed from my own amazing release—Katie was no slouch in bed herself—but I also knew I had to get ready for my appointment. I pushed myself up to a seated position, dropping my feet into my slippers to protect them from the cool, hardwood floor of my uptown Manhattan loft, and stretched happily. Katie murmured with a displeased tone.

Getting up already? she asked. "Why don’t you come let me give you a massage? I don’t have any other plans this morning, and I’d love to go again when you’re ready. Your dick feels so good."

Can’t today, babe. Sorry. I have an appointment with Doc Cindy in an hour. Maybe next time.

Well, what are you doing later today?

Normally, the possessiveness of her questions would have annoyed me, but Katie was exceptionally hot even for the type of girl I was used to being with these days—a perfect ten. I let my eyes run over her naked body, appreciating every inch of the former beauty queen: her long, blonde hair, slender, tanned legs, impressive rack. Her mouth formed a tight cupid’s bow when disappointment made her purse it, and she was pursing it now.

I didn’t blame Katie, though. She wasn’t trying to trap me or marry me, like I might have been worried about at one point in my life. Girls knew better than to bother trying that these days, although some idiot guys actually managed to get tricked into thinking they were in love and wound up hitched. I had to marvel at the type of girl that could actually land a husband in the current social climate. Fortunately, I hadn’t yet run into one that could do that to me. It certainly wasn’t Katie. She was just trying to make sure she maximized her odds of getting pregnant and get the FEMPOL bonus for her work.

Later today I have errands to run. I have your number babe—I’ll call you soon, promise.

Katie huffed in frustration at the rejection, but knew better than to push her luck. Instantly her annoyed expression shifted to one of demure acquiescence, and she nodded and let her pretty head fall back on the pillow. I didn’t really care if she was faking it or not. Besides, she was smart enough to be good. She was one of the girls who was hot enough that I might actually call her for a second fuck sometime, and she knew that. Why screw up a good thing?

I left her where she was and got up to pick out a shirt and a pair of trousers before making my way into the bathroom. Then I paused and grinned at myself in the mirror.

Justin Watters, you magnificently lucky bastard, I murmured quietly. What did you ever do to deserve this life?

My hair was floppy, dark reddish brown, and uncombed, still sweaty and tousled from sex, and stood up in all directions with cowlicks. The same dark, thick hair also covered most of my body—it ran in the family—and I noticed I was starting to look a little flabby since I hadn’t bothered working out much the last few months. I stood kind of short for a guy at 5’9", and had a too-small nose and pair of ears that weren’t really masculine or attractive at all. Basically, I looked the same as I had for the last 10 years of my life, since puberty had decided I was done growing at 14.

In the past, I’d hated everything about myself. Saying high school had been rough would be an understatement. I couldn’t afford to go to college, either, so I’d missed the whole party life that came with it, not that anyone probably would have invited me to a party. When I’d been forced to take a humiliating job at the grocery store to pay my bills, my hours were so bad and weird that I didn’t have time to date even if anyone would have given me the time of day, which they never did.

And now supermodel-hot girls like Katie were begging to fuck me on a daily basis. The government had given me this amazing uptown loft for doing exactly that, in addition to depositing weekly checks directly into my rapidly-swelling bank account.

I hummed happily as I shaved my face, amused by the additional realization that 90% of those jerks that had bullied me in high school were off living a humiliating experience in one of the FEMPOL containment camps. FEMVI-1 might have terrorized the nation, but for me it’s arrival had been like winning the lottery. This last year had been the first time ever I’d felt lucky to be a man, and it was all thanks to that.

I toweled off, pulled on my clothes, and grabbed my things off the nightstand while giving Katie a quick wink.

I won’t be back any time soon, so don’t even think about waiting around for me, okay? I warned her. The door locks on its own, so you can let yourself out when you’ve cleaned up.

She nodded, still smiling, and finally lowered her legs to the bed. Thanks again for the amazing time, Justin.

You were great too, I assured her. Chicks loved a little reassurance after you banged them. Have a great day, Katie.

I turned and walked out of my apartment as she called after me, "Hey, my name is Karen!"

Whistling and shoving my hands in my pockets, I walked in the direction of my doctor’s office reflecting that it didn’t really matter what her name was. Katie, Karen, Carissa. I could call her whatever I wanted and she’d still come flocking back to me if I texted her, because I was a high-demand specimen. I wondered if this was what it had been like for girls like her before the virus hit, and I had a brief pang of sympathy for the Karens of the world at the thought. Now that I’d experienced just how amazing living the good life was, the idea of going back to being a loser nobody working at the grocery store and begging anyone to have sex with me (unsuccessfully, of course) was horrifying.

I wouldn’t have to worry about that for at LEAST a few decades now. Plenty of time to collect easy cash from FEMPOL and have fun, all while doing my part for our country. I was a goddamn patriot. Maybe I’d think about getting married when I was in my 50s, if I felt like settling down by then.

There were no men anywhere on the street, although every woman I passed was flashing me warm, happy smiles in the hopes I might ask for her number, and I thought about how scared I’d been to walk around in public like this as recently as a year ago without an N95 mask, rubber gloves, and goggles secured tightly in place to protect me. So much had changed since then that it was like I was living in a completely different reality.

To be honest, it was mostly dumb luck. When the coronavirus started spreading across America in early 2020, the few friends I had had laughed at me and made fun of me for taking precautions like stocking up on disaster supplies and buying