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The first time Christian saw his wife fucking another man she was by his Jacuzzi and he was fairly convinced that would be the last party they would throw as husband and wife.

Actually, she was with two men. One was a fellow he didn’t knew and he was fucking her from behind – his large, hairy hands tightly grasping her hair in an attempt to control the backward thrust of her pelvis as if she were a wild animal. The other one (his best friend) had his dick in her mouth. She was taking this dick down her throat pretty deep, and he was way bigger than Christian. She never did that for him. Probably she never liked his dick; and this is something he could believe, given the recent sour circumstances of their marriage.

Christian knew he should be enraged, he should have screamed or even reacted violently, but instead he just walked away from there, grabbed his wallet and car keys and walked out of the house determined to never come back again. He stopped in the first bar he found and after that the night became an indistinct blurry of alcohol and tears.

"You, dumb shit." said Christian Henderson to his reflected image as he swallowed another aspirin in a futile attempt to get rid of his massive headache.

He checked his wallet, there was a bit less than a hundred dollars and by now his ex-wife should already cancelled their credit cards. He still had the car, maybe he could sell it for some cash, but besides it, he did not have anything else. His unemployment benefits had run out last week and he was still unemployed with no upcoming prospects. There was no money coming in. He had no place to sleep or even any friends to ask for help now that he had found his best friend fucking his wife. In the seven years he and Alice had been married he knew that things were getting sour, but he never could imagine that she would be capable of that, even though they didn’t love each other anymore he expected there was still respect between them.

Nevertheless, he had been wrong.

He cleaned his face with cold water once again. How he had got in this cheap hotel last night was a complete mystery for him.

Almost as much a mystery as the weird card he found folded up in his shirt pocket. On one side he could see the logo of a company called “Chrysalis” and on the other there was a phone number and a small message quickly scribed with blue ink:

Give me a call and I can help you out. Great job opportunity and a chance to turn your life around.

Christian assumed he had met someone in one of the bars he had visited during the night and babbled about his job, his money, and his marital problems. He must have made some sort of appointment with whoever the person was.

"What do you think?" he said to his reflection. "A chance to turn my life around? Sounds silly, don’t it?"

But then, what do I have to lose? He whispered to himself, turning away from the reflection.

He tried calling it, but the only response was an automated message stating that all applicants should come in person to the Chrysalis Corporation Headquarters at three in the afternoon. He needed to do a quick search with his smartphone to find the address of the corporation and meanwhile he found that the company was involved in some shady dealings and practices, they were linked to the creation of several biological weapons and were facing several crime charges for unlawful experimentation with humans. Christian knew it sounded really bad, but if he was being honest, he simply didn’t cared anymore.

Christian had no problems following the instructions. When he arrived at the address, he was shocked by the sheer size of the building. It might have been at least twenty-three stories tall, and built almost like a temple. Strangely, there were no windows, just solid walls all around. Adding to its strangeness, the building had only one entrance on the first floor as far as he could see.

As he entered through the door, Christian had expected to find the company's reception area, which he assumed would have to have several lights to adequately compensate for the lack of windows on the floor. Instead of a receptionist, much to his surprise, there was only a poorly lit stairwell with a single flight of stairs that ended at big doorway.

After climbing up the stairs and passing through the doorway, Christian found himself standing in a wide-open, apparently naturally lit reception area. This was sure one strange place, thought Christian.

Sitting behind a desk was an attractive young woman in what he could only describe as a swimsuit with the logo of the corporation. He took a step back thinking that maybe he had wandered in some kind of dressing room instead of the reception.

"Hello, sir." said the young woman as Christian was turning around to get out of there. "May I help you, sir?"

"I hope so." replied Christian a bit flustered. "I have an appointment." he said. "I spoke to one of your people last night and they gave me this card." Christian hoped that his scenario was close enough to what had actually happened to prevent him from being tossed out by security. “I was looking for the receptionist, but it seems that I got in the wrong place…”

“No, you are in the right place, this is the reception.” She replied casually to Christian surprise.

“Oh, I just thought that because of your clothes…” Christian stammered.

“This is the correct uniform for my posting.” She replied sternly.

“I’m sorry,” Christian replied ashamed.

To Christian's relief, the woman simply answered, "We've been expecting you, Mr. Henderson. Now, I need to make a few questions to know if you are the kind of person we are looking for. Did you bring a resume?”

“No, sorry, I didn’t know it was needed.”

“No problem. What’s your age, Mr. Henderson?”

“I’m 32.”

“And you are currently unemployed?”

“Yes.” Christian replied a bit ashamed.

“Right, and are you interested in genetic engineering or neural engineering?"

"What?" Christian asked.

"Are you interested in genetic engineering or neural engineering?" she repeated. "These are the areas in which our company is currently researching and investigating."

"What's the difference?" asked Christian. "And are you really sure I don't need any experience?"

"Absolutely certain." She smiled at him. "The company will teach you everything you need to know." she replied, then continuing, as if from some memorized script the woman answered his initial question. "Genetic engineering is the direct manipulation of an organism's genome using biotechnology. It is a set of technologies used to change the genetic makeup of cells, including the transfer of genes within and across species boundaries to produce improved or novel organisms. On the other hand neural engineering is a discipline within biomedical engineering that uses engineering techniques to understand, repair, replace, enhance, or otherwise exploit the properties of neural systems."

"Wait what?!” Christian asked surprised. “What kind of job is this?”

“You are being interviewed to a position in public relationships as a demonstrator and marketer for our new line of products.” She replied almost automatically.

Christian nodded, that seemed easy enough, he was confident that he could do it.

"Genetic, I think."

"Very well, Mr. Henderson." smiled the young woman. "You'll need to speak with Dr. Fleming. I will go get him. Please have a seat."

Christian wondered if she was married, or seeing someone. She had such a nice smile and since he was pretty sure that he would be completely divorced in just a few days. He was pretty sure that there would be no problem in that. If she were unattached, he wondered if she would consider going out with him some night after work - that is, if he were actually hired. Christian stared as the pretty, young woman came out from behind her desk. He was taken completely by surprise to see her sitting in a wheelchair, her legs and lower body from just above her waist covered by an odd wool-looking blanket that for all intents and purposes appeared to be soaking wet. Christian was amazed. He had had no clue while talking with her that she was apparently confined to a wheelchair. He hoped she wouldn't think it a "mercy date," when he asked her out after work.

But before Christian could recover from his surprise and take a seat, an older man with graying hair came through the door behind the receptionist's desk. "I'm Dr. Oliver Fleming." said the man as he extended his hand to Christian. "But you can call me just Oliver. We try not to be overly formal around here. There are just too many titles floating around here to keep everybody straight otherwise."

"Christian Henderson." replied Christian as he shook the doctor's hand. "If we're going to be informal, then you can call me Christian."

"Very good, Christian." replied Oliver. "Sam and Victor have both said that you're interested in genetics?"

"Sam? Victor?"

"Samantha is the receptionist you've been talking to. Didn't she give you her name?" replied Oliver looking back at the woman who had silently resumed her place at the reception desk. "And you talked to Victor last night. Don't you remember?"

"No, she didn't." replied Christian. "At least I don't remember her giving me a name." Then, hoping Oliver would buy his story, he added "And to be honest, I don’t remember much of last night."

"No problem. But I'll need to speak to Sam. She's still adapting to her condition and isn’t used to our informalities. I hope you will be more at ease, if you decide to stay with us, that is.”

Oliver and Christian entered the sparsely populated office areas through the door behind Sam. For all intents and purposes, they were totally ignored by the working staff. Oliver led Christian to another door located in what Christian had thought was a supporting pillar near the center of the room. When Oliver opened the door, Christian could see that the only stairs inside led up to the third floor.

“Normally I would give you a full tour of the facilities, but right now we are completely filled with work, we are going to announce or new line of products soon and everyone is working like crazy to meet the deadline.”

“Look, I need to be honest with you, I have no experience to this job and I was so drunk yesterday that I barely remember even talking to this Victor.” Christian confessed. “I really need this job however, if you could give me a lower position I promise I’ll work hard!”

“Don’t worry about that, you are just the kind of person we are looking for to demonstrate our product. We want to show how our products can change the life of our clients and we believe that there is nothing better than to give a real example. I hope you don’t feel offended, but by what Victor told us you are someone that needs to turn your life around.”

They walked in an elevator that begun to move without Oliver even needing to press any button.

“What is this product anyway?” Christian asked intrigued.

“It’s a revolutionary plasmid, capable of quick genetic scripting and that can also facilitates the rewiring of neural pathways.” Oliver explained quickly.

“And this means?” Christian asked as they got out of the elevator and walked into what looked like some laboratory filled with giant glass tanks filled with colored fluids.

“It can help you learn new things and shape your body.” Oliver deadpanned.

“That’s amazing!” Christian replied.

“Yes, but the potential for people to get scared is big and we can end up buried under red tape while people panic all around without reason. That’s where people like you will enter; we want to have a small group of… Well, to be honest with you, we want you to be our guinea pig, to show off all the amazing things we can do with our product and prove it is completely safe.”

“And is it?” Christian asked suddenly worried. “I mean, is it really safe?”

“Of course! Believe me, I volunteered to go through it myself, but the people in human resources deemed it would be better if we had people with sad stories, you know how people like underdog stories.”

They proceeded through a small corridor and into a long hallway dotted with several doors of its own at staggered on sides and at irregular intervals.

Christian was starting to worry that he'd gotten involved in something way over his head, especially since everything seemed so strange. Adding to his worries was the apparent lack of any security - at least, any visible security.

Finally, Oliver stopped just outside one of the doors. After opening it, he motioned Christian to follow him inside. Once in the room, he saw an enormous laboratory with a big glass cylinder in the middle that seemed stretched from the floor up to the ceiling. People in lab coats where busy all around installing equipment and carrying material that Christian couldn’t recognize.

“Now comes a very simple question, Christian, do you wish to turn your life around?”

"But..." Christian staggered.

"It’s a very simple procedure and if by the end you are not completely satisfied with your new life then we can reverse it and you will be back to your old self. The treatment is completely reversible, if you want it to be. As an added incentive, while you're under our contract we'll provide for all your everyday wants and needs. We'll also maintain all of your outside obligations for the duration of your stay and you will receive a generous monthly stipend. It's a totally no-lose situation for you, Christian."

"Is it really totally reversible?" asked Christian. He really needed the money, but what he was asking was too much, he would have people messing around with his DNA and his brain with some weird new product that he wasn’t convinced was as safe as they wanted to show. In addition, of course there was the salt on the wound that they only wanted him because of his sad story.

"Completely, Christian. I can guarantee." Oliver said with a confident smile.

"And you'll pay me?"

"For as long as you remain under our care." replied Oliver.

"Is it possible to try it for just a little while? You know, to see if I like it?"

"Of course. If that's what you want, but you will have to wait at least a month before we could attempt to revert the treatment. It would be very risky to try and inject you with a second plasmid before the first one has had time to be completely metabolized by your organism. Our protocols usually recommends a waiting period of up to a year, but if needed we can reverse the process in about a month."

"Well... Okay, then. I'll give it a try."

"Excellent, Christian. Victor was certain that you would." said Oliver. "Now we'll just go back to my office so you can read and sign our standard contract. Then we'll be all set."

"What standard contract?"

"Oh. It’s not all that much, Christian. It just your basic everyday 'cover everybody's collective asses' legalese as required by the legal department. It essentially covers the conditions of your treatment and employment as necessary. All you have to do is read through the contract and then sign it, but only if you agree to all the legalese."

The so-called standard contract made the bible look like a short story - a truly short, short story. There was so much fine print in it that Christian's eyes hurt from the strain of trying to read it all by the end. Finally, Christian, weary of the reading simply glanced at their content and signed the contract.

"Excellent, Christian." said Oliver, as Christian returned the signed document to him. "Are you ready to begin?"

"What? Now?" asked Christian.

"Of course, now. Why not?" answered Oliver. "There's no time like the present."

"Sure. I guess, I'm ready." responded Christian. "It's like you said, 'why not?'"

The two men took an elevator and walked back into the big laboratory were the glass cylinder was being filled with some kind of pinkish fluid.

"Take off all your clothes, Christian." said Oliver. Then he pointed toward a small metal bed in one of the corners. "Once you've stripped, lay on the bed that we will start the procedure."

“Will it hurt?” Christian asked, ashamed of taking off his clothes in front of the man.

“It will be unpleasant,” Oliver answered.

A pair of orderlies walked into the room. Both of them were sheathed in pale blue hazmat suits, the material of which rustled and squeaked as they wheeled Christian on a gurney to the Treatment Chamber. By this point, they administered some anesthetic that kicked in really quickly, and soon Christian was feeling limp and completely numb.

Inside the treatment room, there were more people in surgical gowns waiting for Christian and soon he was completely out. The orderlies begun to connect several dry electrodes to various parts of Christian’s body. They then fastened fleece-lined Kevlar straps tightly across him, buckling them at the side.

They put him inside the glass cylinder, ropes connected to the straps kept him suspended as they lowered him into the strange fluid; the last step was a small mask covering his mouth and nose that pumped oxygen into his lungs.

At first, the sensation was pleasant, warm and soft as the fluid enveloped Christian’s body, he dreamed of being back in the womb. Then came the pain.

Christian screamed in agony as the solution sipped into his body. It seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. It wasn’t localized. It was everything, every part of his body, from inner organs to muscle fiber, from bone marrow to skin.

His limbs convulsed. Uncontrollable shudders coursed through him. Christian could feel his flesh squirming through the numbness induced by the analgesic, as though there were pythons inside, coiling and writhing. His nerves were red-hot filaments.

Christian’s temperature rose steeply. Perspiration broke out all over. His stomach cramped, and bile burned the back of his throat.

What came next was a long, grueling continuum of racking spasms, relentless nausea, wave upon wave of pain, and intermittent stretches of blissful blackout.

***

When Christian finally regained conscience he could no longer move any part of his body. Then the numbness began to recede, first across his legs. A sudden realization shot through him. He felt good. Truly well. Absolutely clear-headed. He found he could remember things he hadn't thought of in years.

Blinking his eyes several times he saw himself lying down on a gurney with no one around, he could feel the cold air on his bared chest, but strangely, his legs were warm. He tried to rose to his feet and found himself somewhat out of balance. He fell forward, breaking his fall with his hands.

It wasn't dizziness; it was balance. Something was wrong. He looked at the arm that had broken his fall. Slender fingers with nails that looked more like claws. He rolled over and sat up again. He felt something funny when sitting this way, and reached behind him. It was like he was sitting on a rock. No he wasn't. He was sitting on his long, lush tail.

His what?!

He looked down at himself. The first thing that he noticed was his breasts; he now had a pair of swelled breasts on his chest. At the waist a very thin curly body hair became suddenly tremendously thick. It was like horse's hair, dense and curly. Except for being completely black, he tried to look for his sexual organ, but to his horror, there was a slit where once his dick had been. He was no longer taking anything for granted. But his legs, very thick in the upper calf, were queerly shaped below, coming to a thin knee joint fairly high up, then going down to—sharp, shiny-black hooves?

What the hell was going on here?

The hooves and the breasts seemed to combine for a hard balance. That must have been why he'd fallen—no large foot support. But how was he supposed to walk, then? Crawl on his hands and knees? He felt his head, at first relieved to feel he still had two eyes, a nose and a regular mouth, but his lips seemed way more pouty than before, but then he noticed that his ears now were sharp pointed ears close to his head, but at least where ears should be. Even the teeth seemed normal. He now had very long hair, but at least it seemed normal enough. He risked pulling a strand, and it was blue-black and very lustrous.

He crawled on hands and knees to a near wall, using it to help himself get up. He was really top-heavy, no doubt about that. And yet, when he calmed down and considered it, he realized that his sense of balance was remarkable. With a little practice, he could angle parts of his body differently, knowing somehow that certain combinations felt wrong, others right. In about ten minutes he managed to stand without holding on to the wall. He did it repeatedly, and the ability pleased him. He also managed to sit in such a way that his tail didn’t bothered him, he didn't have to be uncomfortable. Walking, however, was a lot harder. After repeatedly falling down he crawled back to the wall, stood up, and resolved to succeed no matter what. He stepped out, going as fast as he could from a standing start. To his surprise, he stayed up, making the weight and balance compensations automatically. When he came to a halt, though, he usually fell over again. More practice would be needed.

With some difficulty he managed to walk toward the mirror to look at his own face in the mirror, his features seemed softer, delicate and positively feminine. He had no more facial hair and his own hair had grown very long and lustrous. What surprised him more than everything was the calm that filled him, a part of him knew he should be screaming in rage from all the changes, but somehow it just felt normal.

“Amazing!” Oliver exclaimed from the door. “We didn’t expect you to be able to walk so soon.”

"What happened to me?" asked Christian angrily, looking at Oliver. It took him an instant to realize that he was looking up to Oliver, since the last time they had talked they had had nearly the same height, but now Christian seemed to have lost almost a foot of his old height.

"We still aren’t sure, Christian." replied Oliver. "We have been running simulations, but the best we can say is that someone or something has subverted our plasmid and put a complete new series of instructions. We are still looking over it, but you can be sure that our teams are working day and night to solve this problem.”

“You said it was reversible!” Christian said, startled by the sound of his now soprano voice. It sounded so breathy and feminine. “Why haven't you changed me back?”

"It will still take several days for the plasmids to be completely absorbed by your system; we can’t change you back until then.”

“So you just want me to be some kind of aberration until then?” Christian retorted angrily.

“During this transition time, we will have our teams working their best to help you in any way possible. We even had started to work on some apparatus to help you walk, but you seem to have got the hang of it pretty fast. I, or one of my assistants, will be constantly monitoring your progress from outside through its conclusion. For now its best if you rest, don't forget that tomorrow you will be given your new job."

"My what?!" Christian fell down. "How can I work like that?"

"It was in the terms of contract, since we can't exactly use you to promote our services we will need to put you in a new function until we can reverse the process."

Oliver exited the room, leaving Christian all alone.

Christian didn't like being left alone. No one had said anything about being left alone. It was a small room. And more or less empty. Bored, he wandered aimlessly around the room for several minutes.

He strolled up to the mirror to stare once again at his reflection now knowing that he would need to live with that for a week at least. Somehow his features didn’t cause repulse on him, in some way he could see the beauty in his new features, even on the lower parts of his body. He had never seen horses up close, but he was pretty sure that was how they fur must feel.

He sighed deeply, it would only be for a month. He could do it.