Method (Patreon)

Recently I was surprised by the number of likes for this story and... haha, and apparently my recent visits to a psychologist motivated me to continue this story

Short story: https://www.patreon.com/posts/method-61291099

Add. materials: https://www.patreon.com/posts/method-images-102987547

...

Part 1

I stood in shock trying not to do thoughtless actions and figure out what the hell was going on right now. An Arab man stood in front of me. Holding a small handbag in my hands, I just looked forward without moving in the hope that it was all just some kind of dream or something like that. I understood that this could not be, but the pressure of the bra straps on my shoulders under the clothes and the feeling of weight in the chest area made me understand that everything was really happening.

- Did you come here with your wife?

- Yes, does it matter?

- Certainly. We need her passport and we will give you two key cards for the room

It was strange to realize that I absolutely did not understand what this stranger at the hotel reception was saying, even though he certainly spoke English.

- Farida, give me your documents

In fright, I looked at this man and for several seconds just said nothing with an open mouth. Everything has been happening too fast and strange since the moment I was here a minute ago. For the first time I heard a speech that I understood, although the language was definitely not familiar to me and seemed a stranger

- Who am I?

- Faster, woman!

Still not moving away from the shock and sensation, I already caught a new strange effect listening to my voice and the sound of the language unknown to me. But I didn’t have time to realize it all and think it over, because from his cry I returned to reality again. I really didn’t like the way he looked at me at that moment and the fact that he raised his voice. However, I realized that documents were needed and, apparently, they could only be in this purse.

In a confusion, I opened my purse and started looking for documents, feeling discomfort from long nails, but still I found something that looked like a passport. Taking out my foreign Turkish passport with trembling hands, I opened it on the first page and almost fainted when I saw my man's face in the photograph, only I was wearing a scarf and wearing makeup. Next to the photo was the name of Farida Demir of the same year of birth as me and of course in the column "gender - female"

...

A few minutes ago I was at a psychologist's session and told him about my experiences. In particular, I was greatly disturbed by my fantasies that sometimes I imagine myself as a woman.

- Yes ... and most importantly in these fantasies, in almost all, a man loses not only his masculinity, but also his social status and gets a bad situation

- Hmm .. interesting, for example?

- For example, he changes his race and becomes the obedient wife of some Arab husband of a tyrant

After listening to me at that moment, he told about his method of solving my problems and experiences, which seemed strange to me, but I still did not argue with a specialist.

It was like hypnosis, but it was not, according to him. He moved his hands left and right, and I had to follow these movements. This went on for several minutes until he snapped his fingers and I suddenly found myself here in the lobby of this hotel.

Part 2

- Farida? Farida, are the documents there?

Hearing the stranger's voice, I returned to reality again, where I still stood behind the desk of the hotel and was holding documents in my small and narrow hands. I quickly handed the man passport and than he gave it to the man at the reception for scanning. It seemed like those few seconds lasted an eternity. The employee checked the data in the passport, while Arab guy stared at me without even blinking.

- Mr. Demir, everything is in order

After saying these words, the employee gave the documents to him and I just silently stood looking forward with a scared look. My heart was pounding at a very fast pace and it felt like my chest would explode at any moment. Everything happening right now seemed absolutely crazy and scary. I just want to get out of this damn place right now!

- Did you hear? Let's go!

- W-where? - I answered the voice I still did not consider to be mine, with difficulty and shaking.

- Where do you think, stupid woman? To our room, of course! - he answered as if it were perfectly normal and logical and went towards the corridor of the hotel.

The only thing I could do is follow this strange and dangerous stranger with fear, understanding that it is very stupid and wrong to follow him. The mind kept repeating that I must urgently leave here, but I felt powerless, my thoughts were disjointed, my heart pounded with fear, I seemed to feel how the veins in my throat swelled due to increased pressure in my body.

Bra straps under my... What is the name of this long robe that Arab women wear? Oh, yeah, under my abaya itched on my shoulders very much and breasts, apparently, were bigger than bra size, which made me very uncomfortable. In my ass there was a strange sensation of a thin piece of cloth between the cheeks that caused an unpleasant feeling, but I tried not to pay attention to it. And if we talk about this, then I was more worried that under the abaya there was nothing else except these bra, thong and some kind of long socks, althought I think they were called stockings.

Part 3

He walked quickly down the hotel corridors, looking at the numbers on the doors and not even looking around. I, however, looked around and, most importantly, I saw myself in the mirrors, which were in the hallways. I was absolutely crazy from my appearance. Gray head scarf and same color abaya covered with all parts of the body except my face. And most important for me, my face was definitely mine! The only thing that differed from me in general, it was a layer of light make up and the fact that my lips were bright red. It's look very weird, but also somehow in harmony with all the rest. I had never looked like that in my whole life, so I did not immediately believe in my eyes that the reflection in the mirror was me. So I froze for a moment and stared at myself in disbelief.

But I soon returned to the sense and and had to run to catch up with a stranger, which was difficult enough because my shoes, with high heels and platform, was uncomfortable and not conducive to movement. Wait ... Why didn't I notice that earlier? How did I not notice the high heel and platform shoe in the first place? I never wore something like that before and I just did not even think that they can exist. And only now I notice sound of my shoes on the floor that were similar to fast and loud "Click, clack". I do not understand why I do not notice such a thing for so long

- Do not linger, Farida, - I heard the stranger's loud and annoyed voice and tried to catch up with him again, not really understanding why I even care about it.

Finally, after running, I caught up with him and he stood at one door. He unlocked it, and after a few moments I saw a pretty large room. In it there were a table with two chairs, a big TV on the wall, a small kitchen with an electric kettle and refrigerator.

- Take this! - after saying this, the stranger, whose name I did not know at all, handed me a key card. After I took it, he added with annoyance in his voice, - Take a shower first.

And with these words he left the room without looking at me, leaving me alone. I looked at the key in my hand and looked again at the door that was slowly closing. I can just go out this door right now, leave the key card and run out of the hotel right away, just put as much distance as possible from here and ... And then what? Where can I go and how do I get back to myself? Apparently I don't even know English because I cannot understand what says receptionist at hotel. And this passport... If this really is my passport, then how to prove that I am myself, not a Turkish woman named Farida Demir, whose looks exactly like me? No, I really can't go out and try to escape, especially without knowing what kind of situation I am in at all. So it seems that I'll have to stay and do what he said...

Part 4

I decided to listen to stranger and first took a shower, taking off all this stuff. First, I took off this damn shoes that are too high and too narrow. After this, seat in the chair and carefully take a look down at two mounds on my chest covered by abaya, not wanting to believe that they are my own breasts.

- Oh, come on, it can't be real ... It's impossible ... I'm just imagining that all ... It can't be true ... - I told myself with a scared and hight tone which sounded like a squeaky sound of some mouse. I do not know why, but this made me smile a little and then even chuckle. - Huh, huh ... I'm still trying to persuade myself that I'm in a dream?

With that, I rose from my seat and took off the head covering, exposing my hair and showing them in a bun. Then I began to remove my abaya. At this point, my heart was beating very fast, as if it was going to jump out of my chest. I knew what I was going to see under the abaya, but nevertheless, I was very nervous when I finally took off it. My eyes were still closed, while I was holding abaya in my hands and walked towards the bathroom. I do not want to open my eyes, do not want to see all of this, do not want to believe what happened to me ... I opened the bathroom door with one hand, entered inside, closed the door behind me, threw the abaya on the floor. Then, opening my eyes, I turned on the shower, took off my bra and underwear with thongs, trying not to look down, and after I entered the cabin.

I began to wash myself and tried not to notice a strange weight on the chest, tried not to notice this feeling in my crotch, which felt empty, tried not to think that this is my body right now ... No! This is definitely a dream, because of the recent conversations with a psychologist I dreamed all of this and will wake up very soon...

However, after I took a shower, I suddenly noticed a huge mirror on one wall, which showed my entire body. I could not stop looking at myself for several seconds. A naked female body with my face, which after I washed my makeup off and removed my hair from a bun, looked exactly like me ... This was very strange and unreal ... I moved my head from side to side, examining myself, not believing my own eyes ...

- Hello, - I said and saw my lips moving in sync with my hushed and squeaky voice. This was even a bit creepy, so I decided to defuse the situation a little and, as a joke, imagined that I saw a strange woman in youtube, who decided to try to speak in the mirror. - My name is Farida Demir ... I'm a wife ... Of an ... An ... Hassan. W-we're from Istanbul and I ... I love my husband very much ... I love when he ... T-treats me like a... D-d-dirty wife, oh-h-h! - I told, making up the words as they came to me, and then, unable to restrain myself, I giggled loudly and covered my mouth with my hand. - Pf! Huh, huh, huh, ha ha! And I ... S-s-soon ... I'll be ... Mother! - I finished, still giggling.

- What the fuck are you laughing at? - suddenly a man's voice asked from outside. - Get ready faster, we must go to your damn gynecologist!

Part 5

- Mrs. Demir, everything is fine? - I heard a doctor's voice when he finished his speech about my pregnancy with a strange voice, after examining me in the chair with my legs raised on some supports and wide spread, exposing my pussy, with strange cold devices inside it. I still felt how it moved there and the coldness from them. The whole situation already began to seem absolutely ridiculous to me. - Is everything all right?

I looked at him, sitting behind his table in an office room with some diplomas and a computer on it.

- I-it ... I ... I do not ... I ... Do not ... - I stuttered with a hushed tone. - I ... D-don't ... Understand ...

I really did not understand what he just said in English. And in my mind I smoked the moments after the shower when I laughed at how unreal this all is and came up with all sorts of nonsense... but it turned out that everything was real! All this is real! That man who came up with me at the reception and gave a passport - he's really my husband Hassan and I really am his wife and we are in Istanbul. And I ... I'm really pregnant for nine weeks and today I'm going to the gynecologist for a regular inspection and control of pregnancy, after which I'll be on a plane for vacation to Antalya!

- What don't you understand? - Hassan said loudly. - That you are pregnant with twins for 9 weeks already? What do you understand, Farida?

- T-twins? - I said with a confused face and squeaky voice, then looked at Hassan sitting on the sofa with my frightened eyes, still not believing everything.

- You see, my wife does not understand English, doctor! - Hassan said, and then again looked at me. - Farida! Twins! Understand?! Two children at once!

I understood it perfectly the first time, I just didn't even want to believe in pregnancy for myself at all. And twins! And this damn Hassan is a real bastard and asshole, the worst and cruelest person I have ever met, he always talks to me rudely, treats me like a stupid and obedient wife... ugh... hey, hey, wait, did he smile now? Yes, it looks like he smiled for the first time since our first meeting in the hotel lobby. This means he is happy about my pregnancy and twins! Oh... It's so cute and beautiful...

- Oh, look how someone smiled here! - said the gynecologist, who was sitting behind me. - Now that we know that you are happy with your pregnancy, let's see the images of your twins.

Part 6

It was the end of another day in life. It's been several days since the beginning of this crazy and unreal experience, which turned my whole world upside down. Tomorrow morning we are flying to Turkey, where we live and today I had my second appointment with the gynecologist. During these days I learned a lot and found out even more about the current situation.

I learned that I, Farida Demir, live in Istanbul, the capital of Turkey, and have a Turkish citizenship. I was born in a village in Turkey and later married a Turkish man, who is older than me, and moved to Istanbul. We are married for 4 years, have been living in Turkey all the time, I am 25 years old, and Hassan is 37. We are Muslims, I am a traditional Muslim woman and he is a strict and dominant husband, whom I have to obey at all, so I never contradict him, because he does not tolerate disobedience. But main problem - I absolutely like to obey him, especially when he treats me like a dirty and shameless wife, although inside I hate it all and wish only one thing - to return back in my male body and never see him again.

Now I was sitting on the edge of a bed in a small nightgown in the room, where I and Hassan lived for several days. He is still in the shower and he will come here very soon. The light is on and the TV is also on, there was news in English, although I didn't understand what they were talking about. I tried not to pay attention to it and was looking at the screen of my smartphone, scrolling through MY social networks.

"My" profile in the Facebook was called "Farida Demir", and there was a lot of photos of me in a hijab, smiling and having a good time with different people. But most often I was with Hassan, hugging him, kissing him, smiling, and he smiled too. My face was exactly the same as in the mirror and it was so hard to believe that it was really me and these are really my photos, as if it was a good photoshop work... Everything was written in Turkish, so I read easily, because now it seemed that Turkish was my native language.

Om page except photos there were many posts about how cooks, prepares dinner, makes tea, how to behave properly for a wife, what women should do, and so on. There was also a post about the beauty of the veil and a post about the superiority of men, but there was also a post about how women can make their own way, become successful, achieve great success, and so on. However, this post seemed me now very strange, as if someone had put it in a wrong place.

"This is a strange post," - I thought. "Why the hell is a woman's independence needed at all? I'm a wife and will give birth to children, so that's all. In any case, Hassan will make the final decision, and I will follow him."

I thought for a moment and then dropped the phone to the floor, realizing that such thoughts are not mine, but the thoughts of Farida Demir, who was a completely different person from me. I was a guy in my 25 years of age, who worked in a large corporation as a software developer and lived a normal and free life. I just have trouble with relationships and women, and I was going to psychologist to deal with this. And now I was sitting here on the edge of the bed, with pair of breasts, long hair and wearing a nightgown, waiting for my husband, whom I had to obey, to come and use me as he wants.

"No, no, no, I must resist! This is not me! This is not what I want! I should fight! I have to find a way out!" - I thought, realizing that such thoughts were mine, the real me, although it was not easy to realize it at all.

Part 7

"Ugh... hate this place," - I thought looking at myself in the mirror, touching my little fingers with long, newly manicured nails on the cheeks covered with powder and then fixing the lipstick. "I've been here for two weeks now... And every damn day was the same. Do make-up, pray, do cooking for Hassan, kiss him goodbye, wash dishes, clean up, do laundry... meet him after his work, serve the table, prepare food for breakfast tomorrow and finally wash, put the plates on the sink and wait for Hassan in the bedroom for a late evening fuck... I never thought that I would be so calm talking about sex with a man in this sense, and not thinking at all."

It really was depressing and disgusting in general, to be a good wife, constantly clean and always obey... I woke up, washed, prayed, cooked, cleaned, and did housework while have deal with constant feeling of weakness and discomfort from my changed body parts. There was nothing unusual if I was simply an ordinary, normal woman all my life and had gotten used to my appearance, but when you become a completely different sex, it feels weird as hell, especially when you're still trying to argue with yourself and convince yourself that everything that happens is not true, but some crazy, unnatural and strange dream.

Louldy bell ringing through the flat, and I quickly rushed to answer phone call. "Who is calling at such unheard of times?" - I thought and took up receiver with displeased sigh.

- Home of Demir, - I said in a hushed, squeaky and unpleasant female voice.

- Good afternoon, this is the psychologist office, - a pleasant male voice with a foreign accent was heard on the other side. - Is Mr. Demir present?

- No, he's not here, he's at work, - I answered in a whisper, not knowing what the hell was happening and why did they call.

- Okay, - the voice on the other side did not pay attention to my strange voice. - We need to arrange a new appointment for the patient Demir.

- I... I'm his wife, and I'll tell him about it, - I said with a frown.

- Very good, Mrs. Demir, please pass him the message that he needs to call me, Dr. Smith, personally, it's urgent.

"Dr. Smith? But this is my psychologist! I was with him when all this happened, and this is his voice!"

- O-okay, Doctor, - I whispered quietly and nervously. - I'll tell him that... but what's the matter?

- Unfortunately, this is confidential information, but your husband should call me immediately, - after these words paused and added: - It's about 'method' of solving his problems. Goodbye.

- G-goodbye, Doctor.

When I was done, I immediately grabbed my mobile and texted Hassan, asking him to call the psychologist. Several minutes later, the SMS was marked as "read" and Hassan answered with a message: "I'm not have any psychologist, stop telling stupid things, woman".

Part 8

I was preparing dinner and listening to the Turkish TV series on the laptop on the kitchen table, as I usually do during these last five months of my forced life. Today there was a scene when a young girl was in love with a handsome Turkish guy, who was not her husband, but the husband of her cousin.

- Oh, look, the poor girl has no choice, she will suffer... - I whispered and put my hand on my belly, which was already noticeably bulging under my abaya, and felt the movements of the child in my belly. - Hope, our's kids will not have such troubles in life ... - and then suddenly felt how my lips are forming a smile and tears flow down my cheeks. - Our kids...

After these words, I put my hands on my face and began to cry.

- O-our k-k-kids, - I sobbed and began to wipe the tears from my cheeks with a napkin, and then began to laugh. - Oh, I'm such a woman, so silly, and emotional ... - and again tears flowed from my eyes and I sobbed. - How will I bring up two children? I don't know anything about it! I will be a terrible mother!

- Why are you crying again? - I heard the voice of my mother-in-law, who entered the kitchen.

- A-ah, no-no-nothing, Mother, I'm fine, - I muttered with a sad smile, wiping my tears and turning to the stove, where the pan was boiling.

- I see, - she said sternly, walking past me and looking into the pan. - What are you cooking, Farida?

- Um, I'm making chicken with vegetables, and ... and then I'll make a salad, - I answered, sniffling and smiling weakly. - And for dessert there will be pudding.

- You should have made something different, Farida, - my mother-in-law replied harshly and looked at me sternly. - Today Hassan returns home with his brother.

- With his brother? - I asked, and my heart jumped. - B-but he doesn't eat chicken!

- You should have known about it before! - my mother-in-law snapped, and then looked at my belly. - You will never make a good wife, you know?

- S-sorry, mother... - I answered in a whisper and lowered my head, wiping tears from my eyes.

- You should not cry, but to fix this mistake! - she said harshly. - I will go to the store and buy some fish. Prepare the table for the meal, wash the rice, and then get the dessert.

- Yes, Mother, I will do it, - I muttered, looking sadly at her, and then looked at my belly and touched my belly.

- And do not forget to cover yourself, - my mother-in-law said and walked past me. - If my son sees how you are dressed, he will be angry, and the baby will be born a retard.

Part 9 - Epilogue.

I was walking along the street and looking at my reflection in the glass, seeing a Turkish girl with a scarf covering her head and face, with a round and already large belly, dressed in a red abaya and with a bag in her hands. Only eyes and eyebrows were visible on the face.

"I'm so cute!" - I thought and smiled under my hijab. "Look, how big I am now, almost 9 months, I've been carrying twins all this time and soon I will give birth to them, I'll have a son and daughter! I will be a mother of two children at the same time! Oh, Allah, thank you for this blessing and happiness!"

After these thoughts, I began to walk quickly down the street, trying not to fall because of the weight of the stomach, and at the same time trying to walk as a lady. After all, it was the street and there were many people, and it would be embarrassing if someone saw a pregnant woman like me, who could not even properly walk.

On one of the buildings there was a poster, showing the picture of a girl in a hijab who held a book in her hands and a sign in Turkish below "The University of Islamic Women. Come and learn more about Islam."

"Ah, what a pretty girl. And it's a very important information, everyone should learn about Islam," - I thought and, after taking a few more steps another poster on the wall of another building caught my eye "Psychological support. Women's circle. Every Wednesday."

"It's also very useful information," - I thought. - "Perhaps I should go there. Moreover, before I went to a psychologist... Hmmm... How long ago was it?... By the way, just wondering what the psychologist who wanted to see Hassan said. And what method of solving his problems did he say?

...

Dr. Smith's method was called "Transformation therapy", and it was developed by the American company "Morphotherapy", and was a kind of experimental treatment, and had the property of making a parallel world of a patient with a new, alternative life for him, and then transferring his consciousness to this parallel world. When the patient is transferred to the parallel world, he becomes his alter ego, the person who lives in this world, and get basic instincts, habits and other things that were have new person. So in base world the patient continues his life, while copy of his mind, created by morphotherapy, lives in the parallel world until the treatment ends, so after this consciousness is returned back to the base world with new information.

Dr. Smith planned to transfer patient mind and consciousness into Hassan Demir's mind and body and make him live in this parallel world. However, some mistakes happened during the transfer, and instead of going to Hassan, consciousness of the patient has gone to the another world where was his alter ego - Farida Demir.