Better Living Through Chemistry: Gender Swap Erotica

By Allyson Klipp

Clark Hope was willing to keep his head down and just get through life. Some people, like his annoyingly handsome and charismatic colleague James, might think he was boring. But unlike James, Clark was willing to put in the extra hours at their research chemistry lab and develop the next best thing in male enhancement supplements. But when a test goes awry and Clark accidentally injects himself with an experimental drug, his life is turned upside down!

Suddenly turned into a woman, Clark finds himself in over his head trying to keep out of the sights of a nosy security guard and his colleague James. Will he manage to keep himself and his discovery a secret, or will he find out that maybe there's more to life than work? Either way, Clark soon finds some unexpected aspects of being a woman, and that maybe it's possible to live better through chemistry.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Allyson Klipp
• Release date: Mar 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005066628

Allyson Klipp

Allyson Klipp is an erotica author specializing in gender transformation and other body changes that allow her characters to experience a new sensual side of life.

Book preview

Better Living Through Chemistry

Gender Swap Erotica

By

Allyson Klipp

Copyright © 2021

All Rights Reserved

Cover photo by www.depositphotos.com

Smashwords Edition

Table of Contents

Dose 1 ?

Dose 2 ?

Dose 3 ?

Dose 4 ?

Dose 5 ?

Dose 6 ?

Dose 1

The fluorescent light above my bench flickered, and I tore off my gloves in frustration. Rubbing the bridge of my nose, I groaned, Damn it. How long does it take to change a lightbulb around here?

Take it as a sign, James said. A sign to go home for the weekend, man. It’s already after five.

I sighed and stood up to stretch. James was already packed up and had stopped on his way out, his messenger bag slung around his broad shoulders.

I said, I feel like I’m so close on this thing after so long, I can’t just go home and mill around with it on the cusp of perfection.

James shrugged. Suit yourself. I’d rather spend my Friday nights with my arms wrapped around something a little more shapely than a test tube. Speaking of which, if you’re not going to be here all weekend, we’re still going to Pulse tomorrow night. You’re welcome to join.

Thanks, but… I blanked on an excuse. Pulse wasn’t really my scene. Too dark, too loud. But I didn’t want to explain it all then and there. Instead, I gave a cagey, Actually, maybe, we’ll see. Thanks for the offer.

I’d tagged along to their favorite club once before, and it hadn’t gone over very well. The dance floor was too wild, and the couple of women I tried dancing with ended up dancing away with someone younger and more handsome. Someone more like James, with his carefully manicured scruff and angular features that were offset by the soft bedhead he always seemed to have. As a bench chemist, I spent most of my days hunched over at a computer or beakers, and that night I’d wound up in basically the same place, sulking at the bar with a drink, alone. Not exactly a night to remember, other than as fodder for fantasies later that night.

James seemed to think that maybe meant yes. See you then.

I shook my head as he disappeared through the key-carded door. I didn’t need to start trying to act his age. That’s how mid-life crises start.

Alone in the lab, I grabbed a new pair of latex gloves. There was another reason I wanted to keep working tonight, and it had to do with a different sort of vanity. We had been working on the VitMaX supplement for months, off and on as funding allowed, and I had a feeling we were close. But if I could figure out why it wasn’t producing the male enhancement features we were looking for, then I would have a good shot at being first author on the patent. It wouldn’t mean any extra money from ExVeritas – everyone on the project would get the same bonus – but it looked better to other employers be first author. And I wasn’t looking to spend the next two decades working for the supplement industry, preying on people’s insecurities.

My phone chimed and I fished it out of my pocket to see an email from James with no subject line, forwarded from my work address. The message was simple, but devastating.

Glycosylation is a red herring.

Holy shit, I gasped. How did he know I was working on that?

A small bottle of glycoprotein stain sat innocently at the corner of my work space. Had he figured out what I was doing just from that? Shit, if he knew glycosylation was a red herring, then he had already considered it as an inhibitor and probably even made tests of his own to figure out there wasn’t a correlation there. I thought the testosterone-boosting meds were being blocked by an enzymatic breakdown, but if it wasn’t that, then…

God damn wunderkinds, I huffed and grabbed the protein stain to put away. If it isn’t a glycosic breakdown, then what’s preventing it from reaching the D-Aspartic acid from making it past the bloodstream?

Back at my bench, I stared blankly at the reference manual, flipping through dry descriptions of innumerable body proteins and acids. ExVeritas already had a so-called ‘male-enhancement’ supplement, but at least half the efficacy was placebo. They wanted something proven, something that worked from the first dose. But it took forever to go from pill to gut to blood to body. Suppositories might work faster, but our target audience was exactly the wrong type to suggest sticking something up their ass.

Maybe a pill isn’t the way to go? Maybe we need a powder, or an aerosol, or a patch. Hmm… like a nicotine patch. Micro-needle introduction. That would test well.

I rolled my eyes at myself for thinking like a marketer. But that was the truth of it in this business. A working product was useless if people didn’t want to take it.

So if it’s directly injected, we need to make it transportable by body cells. What if…what if we bind it with Acetylneuraminic acid? Just temporarily overwhelm a localized area so the Asparic acid can bust through to the blood stream? Might have some short-lived immune response problems, but worth a try as long as one of the side effects isn’t death.

It was worth a shot, and I spent the next two hours re-invigorated. With almost nothing standing between the booster and the bloodstream, the dosage could be extremely low. By seven o’clock, I had a little over 60 microliters, barely more volume than a drop of water. Yet it would be enough for several micro-needle patches. I was so caught up I used up the full stock, making nine doses.

Oops, I said, grimacing. ExVeritas didn’t really want us to make too many prototypes. Oh well, now all I need is a rat to test these bad boys on.

Whether it worked as intended or not, I knew it would have some kind of effect. I was surprisingly eager to keep going, feeling like nothing could bring me down.

Then the light flickered for the hundredth time that day. The surge of hate that welled up surprised me, and I leaned back to stare at the offending piece of junk.

If you want something done right, you got to do it yourself, I said quietly.

I didn’t have an extra fluorescent light tube, but…maybe I turn it just enough stop the flickering. Having it permanently off would be preferable anyway, and I could probably reach it. I stood up and reached toward the ceiling. Just a couple feet short, which meant from my bench I could reach it. I climbed up and stretching as far as I could, I barely reached the bulb, and managed to give it a half-turn. The bulb went dark, and I felt like I had just repaired the space shuttle. Blinking against the spots in my eyes from staring at the ceiling, I let myself down and let out a deep breath. I was unstoppable. Now to go check out a rat from the playroom. I rubbed my hands together in anticipation.

Something rough rubbed against my left palm, and I