FSE

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This journal is just for me... I remember a class that said that writing things down helps you sort it out, to help organize everything in your head. I need that badly now. I need the help to figure out what's real and what's not. To keep track of who I am. I just pray that they don't find this... this is the only thing I have left of who I was...

I guess I should start with how my life used to be. My name is... was Zack Morris. I wasn't anyone particularly important or interesting. I had my fair share of prospects and problems, sure, but nothing especially out of the ordinary. In fact, I really should've considered myself lucky. I was fresh out of college, just having got my Bachelor's in Fine Arts. I didn't have a lot of money, and I was living in a shitty old apartment complex, but I was happy, and it was because I was living with my fiancé, Jessica. She was an art major too; we met online when we did a joint art commission, and had gotten closer ever since. She moved out here with me, and it didn't take me long at all to propose. She was such a sweetheart... I loved her death. I still do, honestly.

As luck would have it, we also managed to get an apartment in the same building as my good friend, Brian. Me and him went way back; he was my best friend, really. Of all my friends, he was definitely the closest. We worked on a lot of stuff together. He usually handled the more technical aspects of it. He could build just about anything, but he was especially gifted with electronics and wiring. We graduated around the same time, but he went ahead and got his degree in Computer Science. Despite that, he was an artist at heart too, ending up with a huge interest in animation. He always had time to help me with my projects, even my commissions. I gave him a cut, of course, but I could always depend on him.

My life was going pretty well. I wasn't rich and my career was far more frustrating than I had been hoping, but I had the best friends I could ask for. I had never really considered that I might have enemies. Sure, I was kind of abrasive, especially during college, and I'd pissed quite a few people off, but I never thought anyone would go out of their way to destroy my life. But apparently someone did. They hated me enough to have me dragged from a bus stop in the middle of the night and beaten half to death...

It was the middle of winter, about 10:30 at night. I remember because I was frustrated that my bus was so late. I knew I was in a rough part of town, but it wasn't like I looked like a particularly tempting target. I remember nodding to the big guy that walked up to the bus stop with me. He asked if I had a smoke and I said, "No, sorry man." We waited together for about three more minutes after that. I barely had time to react before I felt him grab the back of my coat and a sharp blow fell across the back of my skull. I didn't quite go out, but I fell to the ground, dazed, as my attacker dragged me away from the stop. I was apparently flailing and thrashing around in my panic, because he felt it necessary to hit me again. My vision blurred, and everything went dark. I felt him hit me a third time, and then everything went numb. I think I was unconscious, but it's hard to say.

The first thoughts that went through my head when I started coming to was that Jessica was going to be worried sick. She'd told me not to go out there so late, but I promised her I'd be fine. My limbs were numb, and I could barely move. I don't know if I was drugged or the blows to the head just did that much to me. My long hair was matted with blood, and all I could see was the floor moving beneath me. It took me a moment to realize that someone was carrying me over their shoulder. I finally got enough will to force me head to turn to the side, trying to figure out where I was. We were in a small hallway, almost like a kennel with huge cages. I had a seen a place like this before... It was a Scalie slave house. A few of the cages were occupied by the Scalies inside, their big yellow eyes staring as they watched us go by.

I'd done a few art projects revolving around the Scalies, or Lizardfolk, if you want to be more PC about it. They were always a hot topic both politically and socially, so there was no shortage of commissions that capitalized on it, especially the slavery aspect of their current situation. They'd been found a few years before I was born, out in the protected part of the Amazon. At first it seemed like a miracle; another sentient race right in our back yard. It didn't take long, however, to find out that they were actually the result of some genetic engineering. Who had done this or why was never found out, but there quite a few of these new Lizardfolk prowling the jungle.

Many of them were immediately taken as "exotic servants" for wealthy individuals, and it was quickly discovered that they made fantastic slaves. They were as intelligent as humans, but seemed to have a natural disposition for submissiveness towards us in particular. Sure, many of them were none too happy about being treated like dirt, but no real resistance was ever made, by them or for them. It was eventually decided by many countries that it was acceptable for them to be enslaved, since they were not human and thereby not entitled to the liberties that come along with it. Not only that, but they themselves frequently preferred being slaves, almost panicking when offered freedom. Especially the females.

As my mind wandered, the man carrying me went through the door at the end of the hall, entering what looked like a vet's office from what little I could actually see of it. I was soon thrown down against a padded bench, making my vision blur once more. There were other people in the room, and immediately they crowded around me, talking amongst themselves. My head was throbbing and spinning so badly I could barely make out anything that was being said, other than they were talking about me. After a few moments I felt something hit my face, not hard, but enough to get my attention. One of them was closer, and my hearing and vision both came back enough to focus on him.

I was somewhat shocked to see that he looked like a fairly normal man, dressed in a suit with well-trimmed brown hair. "Hey, Zack, you with us, buddy?" he said, his voice oozing with mock concern. I could've sworn I'd seen him before, somewhere...

"... The fuck...?" I asked, woozily. I was able to move again, and the splitting pain in my skull came back to its full presence. The man smiled, patting my side.

"Don't worry, we'll put you under some nice, genuine anesthesia here in a second. The good doc's getting it all set up." He said, pleasantly. He was looking me square in the eyes, and I was searching for some kind of answer in his expression. His face did little to hide the feeling of smug self-satisfaction he was experiencing.

"What's going on...!?" I demanded, trying to sit up. I felt someone's hand press my shoulder back down.

"Zack, c'mon. It's me, Chris." He said. He frowned a little when my expression just remained confused. "Jessica's old flame? Remember? We met once." My heart sank. I remembered him then. I had only met him once, and it was during my first visit to see Jessica, when we were working on that commission. It was years ago, but I remember it still. He was outside her apartment, yelling up to her window, calling her a bitch in the same breath he was begging her to take him back. I broke his nose. She and I weren't officially dating then, but still I lost my cool, stormed down to the parking lot, and punched him. I had never even thought about him again...

Chris paused, seeing the look of shock, and then rage creep across my face. "You mother fucker!" I yelled, causing the pain in my skull to peak again. "Is that what this is all about!? Agh!" I reached up to clutch my skull but someone grabbed my wrist, probably fearing I was gonna take a swing at him. Chris just shook his head.

"I don't even care anymore. I made it big in the slaving business while you two are eking it out doing whatever artsy bullcrap you do." he said, clearly gloating over me.

"Then why am I here?" I asked, still feeling woozy from the head injury, especially after I'd gotten myself so worked up.

"Because my new friend needs people... And instead of just hobos, or strangers, I figured I'd make the best of it by getting back at people who wronged me in the past. Oh, here he is now." He stepped away and I heard the sound of plastic wheels against the tiles as they rolled something up to me. Someone pushed a breath mask to my face. I struggled but it was no use, even without restraints. "Relax, it's just the anesthesia."

"And this is the final specimen?" I heard a heavily accented voice ask. I couldn't place the nationality; it just sounded like a mish-mash of several to me. "He seems healthy enough. The operation should go perfectly this time."

"Good to hear." Chris responded. He stroked his goatee a few times before turning his attention back to me. "Good Dr. Loyd here is paying me a fortune to help him with his research. Protection, cover, that sort of thing. Plus, I get first dibs on its results. Both of us win this way." He smiled. "He was one of the guys that helped make the Scalies in the first place, so I owe a lot to him. Now he gets to continue his research without the legal problems screwing him up, and I can always do with a few more slaves."

I can't remember what I tried to say back, but it was completely muffled by the mask anyway, so it hardly mattered. Either way my already blurry vision continued to fade, and it wasn't too terribly long before I was completely out. I think it was a dreamless sleep, but I recall very faint snippets of things happening around me... of voices chattering and machines working. I distinctly remember the sound of knives scraping and the constant presence of pins and needles. I don't remember any pain, but I remember some kind of... terrifying sensation. The fear in my gut was constant, even when it was getting cut apart.

My sense of time was completely lost. They kept me under almost constantly, leaving me floating in a constant dream-like state. I had a lot of time to think back on my life... to think of Jessica, and how terrified she must be. They must've not had much space, because I also overheard several conversations that took place around me... I can't remember any details, but I got general impressions.

Dr. Loyd claimed to be working on cracking the foundations of sentience. He'd made the Lizardfolk from embryos, basically from lizard eggs and human spooge. Now, he was seeing if he could force one organism to become another. That was my fate... He'd done this at least a five times now, with varying levels of success, but he was certain that I would be his success. I felt my despair sink lower. I was too numb and out of it to tell what was happening to me.

Sometime during the process, Dr. Loyd and Chris had a bit of a falling out. I can't remember over what, but Loyd left the project sometime while I was out. I was almost "finished" anyhow, so I wasn't in any danger. It seemed like Loyd really was concerned about my wellbeing, though, whether it was because of his research or because of any moral reasons I couldn't figure out. Either way, he was gone, and Chris was the only one left in charge of my fate.

By the time I had started coming to, I had no clue how much time had passed, or where I was. I opened my eyes, immediately wincing and cringing in pain from the light. I was surrounded by a white curtain, like in a hospital or something. I clenched my teeth, starting to gain feeling back in my body. I felt like I was on fire. I tried to sit up, to get to my feet, but I only succeeded in falling off the bed that I was laid out on. I hit the floor hard, and I just laid there a moment, trying to get my bearing straight.

Immediately, I knew that they had done something to me... Something just felt wrong. My skull, my bones, they all just felt off. I managed to roll onto my back, slowly. "Oh God...." I whispered. My eyes had to look past a light green mass no matter where I looked. As my vision came into focus, I realized what it was: my snout. I gasped and lifted my hands to touch it, finding them to be the same pale green. I touched my new nose, feeling that, indeed, my skull now ended in in a long, reptilian snout. They'd done it...Tears flooded my eyes. I was a Lizardfolk, seemingly perfectly. I could feel my new tail gaining its feeling back, I sat up, trembling badly. That was the moment I discovered another alteration they'd made to me...

As I sat forward I felt a lot of weight on my chest shift forward. My stomach sank as I looked down, finding my chest occupied by a pair of large, full breasts. I shuddered, wanting to scream, but no sounds came out. I reached up with my claw-tipped hands, gently touching them. I broke out into a sob, not even able to process everything that was happening to me at the moment. I clutched my head, curling up a little, feeling like my mind was slipping from me.

I have no clue how long I sat there, shaking and crying, but the sound of the door slamming snapped me out of my stupor. I gasped and looked up, seeing Chris standing there, along with two other men. Chris was wearing another suit, while the other two were wearing what looked like hospital clothes. He smiled a huge smile, and stepped towards me. "Well look who's finally awake. It's been three months, sleepyhead." He grinned, motioning for the two men to move towards me.

"Th-three months...?" I asked, my voice cracking into a whimper when I heard the soft, feminine tone of my voice. The two men grabbed my wrists and pulled me to my feet. I yelped and almost collapsed as I put weight on my legs for the first time in three months. If they didn't grab onto my arms and steady me, I would've fallen right on my face again. Not only was I terribly weak, but something about my foot structure was... off. Lizardfolk had partly digitigrades foot structures. They were more comfortable walking on their tip-toes, as it were.

"Yeah, and it was all worth it..." Chris said, walking over to them. He reached out and ran a hand up my belly, stopping to grab at one of my new breasts. I clenched my teeth, grunting a little. It felt so strange, something I had never felt before. God it felt good too... Chris chuckled. "Oooh, she's sensitive too. Bring her here."

The two men helped me, or really, dragged me, over to another side of the room. I felt the larger claws on my toes scraping against the floor as they moved, jerking me back upright once they had reached their destination. I looked up and my heart froze. Standing in front of me was a fairly large mirror, perfectly displaying my reflection from the knees up. What I saw wasn't me, instead being a beautiful Scaly woman looking back. Her scales were a gorgeous light green, fading to a pale yellow around her belly and breasts. Her breasts were gorgeous, being huge but firm. She had to be at least double-D, if not even bigger.

Chris walked up behind me, his reflection similarly approaching the lizard girl. I felt his hands touch my waist, traveling down to my hips, gently. I let out a hard sob, finally allowing myself to believe that it was my reflection. My body was lovely, with a thin waist and shapely hips. I couldn't help but admire the beauty of my body; even my face was adorable, with big, cute yellow eyes. The only thing that remained of my former body was my long, dark hair, which now naturally swooped backwards, away from my scalp.

I never had a mental breakdown before, but I think that's what happened to me in that moment. I just started sobbing hysterically, screaming in a fit of pure panic. Chris shushed me, like a concerned owner shushing a fretting pet. "Come now, look how perfect you are now." He ran his fingers over the smooth, broad scales of my belly. He reached up and cupped my breasts, kneading them and taking time to pinch at the perky, pink nipples on them. I jolted and squealed, a jolt of pure pleasure shooting through my body.

"See? It's great, isn't it?" I was still crying too hard to respond at all, as well as bewildered at my body's reaction to his touch. He flashed me a wicked grin, reaching down between my legs. I squealed again as his fingers brushed against the outside of my new sex. I let out another hard sob, the realization that I had lost any trace of maleness hitting me. I hadn't even considered what was between my legs at the time, but he certainly had, as he rubbed gently.

My whole body squirmed and writhed, trying to get away from his fingers. It felt like pleasure, but the alien sensation just filled me with revulsion. But he didn't stop. He just kept rubbing, eventually pinching something that made me squeal. It was my clit. He started rubbing at it, slipping his fingers into my new cunt. "Mmm... your so wet... So warm. It's nice that the Lizardfolk are warm blooded, huh? They even breastfeed their young." His other hand reached up to tease at my nipple again, pinching and pulling it.

"Uuungh! S-stop!" I sputtered, tears running down my face. The alien pleasure was making me sick, but my body kept reacting well to it. It was driving me crazy... I wanted it to stop, but part of me wanted more. I didn't have the strength to keep thrashing, just going nearly limp in the other men's arms. They were just leering at me, looking at my body as their boss played with me. He was relentless, plunging his fingers in and out of my newly formed sex.

I kept begging him to stop, but they all just laughed at me. Eventually my body seized up, and my mind was washed out with pleasure. I screamed, more like a scream of pain than anything, just lost in the bizarre feelings running up my spine. My new tail spasmed behind me, and eventually the fit stopped. I panted, coughing, now hoarse from crying and screaming. Chris let go of me, standing up. He pushed his hand to my face, smearing some of the clear fluid on his fingers under my nose. I could smell it so strongly, it was like my nostrils were burning.

"See? This doesn't have to be so bad." Chris mocked. I sobbed, realizing I had just had an orgasm. A female orgasm. "You can be happy this way. We can make you a happy little slave girl, if you let us." I couldn't will myself to respond to him, but I think I grimaced and glared at him, since he just smiled and gently slapped my cheek a few times. "Take to her room. I think she needs a break. Figure her new looks out." He smiled again before gesturing their dismissal.

I was exhausted, physically and mentally. I just stared down at the floor as they carried me along. We passed through the cage-lined hallways I had seen before, still with a few slaves resting in their cages. I couldn't tell if they were the same ones, but I was in no shape to dwell on it too much anyway. They led me past them, and down another hallways I hadn't seen before. The entered a room that seemed like it was an old office, but everything had been stripped out, except for a mattress on the floor with some covers thrown on top.

They set me down on the bed before closing the thick, metal door behind them. I spent some time crying, feeling sorry for myself. I explored my new body a little bit, but Chris had already done quite a good demonstration... Regardless, sleep wasn't an option, and I quickly felt like I was losing my mind. It was like I had woken up as a different person, like this was a horrible out-of-body dream. There was far too much going through my mind to sort through all at once. Another man came back to check up on me and give me some water. I begged him for a notebook and a pen, or anything of the sort. He reached into his pocket and gave me a pen and a small notepad.

I spent the night tearing out all the old, used pages out of it, and scrawling this down on what was left. It seems to be helping at least a little bit... but I still feel like I'm losing my mind. Even seeing it here, written out for me, I can hardly believe it myself. Am I crazy? God, can't I just wake up? Please?