[TF/TG] Birds of a Feather (Patreon)

Combined July + August Personal Patron Tier Reward for SpaceBanana

After catching a new and unusual strain of bird flu John and thousands of other men across the globe find themselves transforming into humanoid hens; with all the trappings that entails. 

~

“Gonzales!”

The sharp voice cut through his brain fog and John’s spine straightened in surprise, turning quickly in his seat to face his manager.

“You’ve not made a call in over five minutes.” She chided; arms crossed.

“Sorry, Jessica.” John blushed, “Just spaced out there for a moment or three.”

Jessica’s face softened slightly, expression changing from annoyance to sympathy as her voice lowered and took on a less professional tone.

“I know you’ve not been feeling great the last few days, John.” She sighed, “But those internet bundles aren’t going to sell themselves. If the team doesn’t hit quota you know how shitty things can get with upper management.”

A pang of guilt passed through him. Jessica was a good boss; he’d even consider her a friend. She’d never hesitated to invite him along to informal team get togethers after work despite the fact she knew he wasn’t the most popular. The last thing he wanted was to get her in trouble. Not to mention the extra barbs that would come his way were he to let the team down.

“I’ll focus.” He promised, swinging back around and readjusting his headset and hitting the dial button on his computer.

Jessica gave him a thumbs up and went to the next cubicle and his guilt abated somewhat. An elderly woman picked up the phone and inwardly he cringed. Selling internet packages in a call centre wasn’t the easiest job at the best of times but trying to explain how it all worked to elderly people who had never even heard of a VPN was a nightmare. As expected, the call dragged on, taking up plenty of valuable time and by the end of it all he had achieve was a sore throat from talking so much.

This damn cold was really hitting him hard. He was fortunate that his job didn’t call for a lot of moving around but what it did involve was near non-stop talking. Even with his multiple bottles of water a day his throat felt like sandpaper by the end. Today was no exception; he powered through to keep his promise to Jessica, managing to hit his daily quota just barely by the time 5pm rolled around.

Clocking out of the system he sighed with relief, leaning back in his chair and rubbing at his sore eyes. Staring at a computer screen all day really did a number of them at the best of times, let alone when he had a cold.

“Careful tubby! I wouldn’t lean back so far on that thing if I were you!”

John rolled his eyes behind closed lids. Steve was chuckling to himself, clearly very proud of the insult. Such taunts were not uncommon here, he’d developed a thick skin over the years but even so, he couldn’t help but straighten himself slightly as the snickering co-worker walked by. Self-consciously he looked down at the spare tire around his stomach; he’d long ago accepted that this was the body he was stuck with, no special diet or exercise routine was ever going to change that. He just wished he could think up some clever comeback to throw back at such taunts. Instead, he did as he’d always done, stayed totally silent and diligently pretended not to hear. He fooled nobody, not even himself.

“Don’t listen to that asshat.”

Giovanni appeared over the top of their cubicle walls and quickly flipping the bird to Steve’s back.

“He’s just annoyed that Jessica turned him down for drinks. Again.”

“Yeah well, he’s not the only one.” John smiled ruefully, “Maybe that’s why she likes me, I never hit on her.”

“Not because you don’t want to.” Giovanni’s eyebrows wiggled suggestively.

“Come off it.” John stood and gathered his things, “As if I’d stand a chance, besides, she’s a good friend. Those are hard to come by these days-“

He was cut off by a sudden cough that had him bent over double momentarily. Giovanni gave him a concerned look.

“Hey man, I’ve been hearing this new flu going around is pretty bad. Maybe you should stay home tomorrow?”

“Maybe.” John cleared his throat and swallowed to try and get rid of the ache. “I’ll see how I feel. I think it’s been getting better.”

“Alright man, if you’re sure. Either way I am glad I’m on this side of the wall.”

~

John groaned looking at the sign hastily stuck to the elevator doors with cheap tape.

‘OUT OF ORDER’

Were there any three words more unholy than that when you lived on the seventh floor? He didn’t think so. Climbing seven flights of stairs was a nightmare on a good day, let alone when he was short of breath already. By the time he’d reached the third set of stairs he was sweating and bent over double trying to catch his breath. He sat down on the landing heavily for a quick rest, glad nobody was here to witness his state. He looked down at his heaving chest dejectedly, he’d been putting on weight even more the last few days. He swore his already round chest was getting flabbier by the day. Maybe he should try another diet, then again depending on how long it took the building manager to fix the elevator he might not have to. Climbing was quiet the work out.

He pushed himself to his feet, grimacing as he watched his chest wobble slightly; when your pecs start moving independent of the rest of your frame you know you’ve put on a few pounds. John did his best to put it out of mind for now, focusing on the climb ahead. It felt like an age but he finally reached the seventh floor and he slid the key into the lock with a breath of relief. Slamming the door closed he surged forward and collapsed on the couch, fully prepared not to move for at least a week.

He reached out and grabbed the remote, flicking on the tv while his other hand rummaged around in his pocket for his phone. The new diet could start tomorrow, for now, he was getting take out. A few clicks later he sat the phone down on his stomach, settling into the soft couch cushions content in the knowledge that soon a large meat lovers pizza would be on its way. He turned his attention to the tv, ready for something mind numbing to switch his brain off after a long day.

‘This new strain of bird flu, currently named Chicken Flu, has some of the strangest symptoms scientists have ever seen. Unlike other strains of influenza and similar viruses, flu symptoms are just the onset. Doctors and scientists are working round the clock with early victims to get a full list of the symptoms and hopefully synthesize a cure.’

Damn, Giovanni was right, maybe this flu season really was something else. Idly he wondered if he’d caught it but dismissed the idea quickly, he had a little cough and a sore throat. Nothing a little rest and relaxation couldn’t fix.

‘The most stunning revelation so far is how the virus effects the sexes. While live virus has been detected in women it seems they appear asymptomatic, able to carry the disease without succumbing to it. As a result, only men seem to be affected. Any men with flu symptoms should seek out medical attention, especially if any other unusual symptoms such as skin irritation, swelling and stomach pains manifest themselves.’

John gave an affirmative nod to himself, he had nothing like that, he was fine. Soon his pizza arrived and all thoughts of this new chicken flu left his mind as he switched the channel and settled in for a relaxing evening.

~

The next morning, he woke to the blaring sound of his alarm and a twisting stomach ache. With a groan he rolled to his side, hugging an arm to his round belly. That pizza had been a terrible idea, not only had it given him indigestion but somehow it had already gone to his hips. He had always been a bigger guy, he knew that but this level of weight gain had to signal something surely. Throwing back the blankets he looked down at his body with annoyance, to add insult to injury he was gaining weight in all the worst places! His pecs were even more rounded now, the skin stretching to cover the fat and his legs and hips seemed wider too if that was even possible. The change was so imperceptible that he doubted anybody would notice save himself but still.

Shame began to fill him; that pizza last night had been such a stupid idea. At the very least he could have ordered Chinese or something, then he could have at least pretended it was somewhat healthy. This was the last straw.

With determination, John rose from the bed diligently ignoring the way his stomach cramped and protested. He was going to get up, get dressed and go to work and even if the elevator was out of order, he would take the stairs. It was time he started taking his health more seriously and stopped making excuses.

His determination had waned somewhat and hour later, by the time he got to the bottom of the stairs, wheezing like a chain smoker but he didn’t give in. Filled with purpose he lined up at the usual café where he bought breakfast; he could see the familiar face of Natalie at the register. With her vivid red hair and green eyes, she always stood out in a crowd, personally, John thought her charm was wasted behind the counter at a café.

He joined the line and scanned the class display cabinets, filled to the brim with pastries and other baked goods. Normally he went for the egg and bacon roll but for some reason, maybe the greasy pizza still churning in his gut, he wasn’t even tempted. As he waited, he ran his eyes over the other options and found himself surprisingly tempted by a sesame seed bagel. It wasn’t the most filling option, having only some cheese and spinach inside but it sounded a lot healthier than his usual fare.

“Morning, John. The usual?” Natalie smiled, she always remembered her regulars, it was part of the reason he came here for breakfast each morning even if it did cost him a little extra.

“Nah, sesame bagel please.” He said proudly, before jokingly pointing at his stomach, “Decided it’s finally time I did something about this.”

“Good for you!” She handed the item over with a wink, “But I wouldn’t worry, some of us like a little meat on our man!”

John snorted with laughter. Natalie was good like that; she didn’t patronise him and pretend like he wasn’t fat but she also didn’t look down on him. He gave her a friendly wave before unwrapping his breakfast and biting into it.

He chewed on the item thoughtfully as he waited for the bus; the taste was average but the seeds on top were surprisingly satisfying. Absentmindedly he began to pick them off the bagel, popping them in his mouth one by one and letting them roll across his tongue. Who knew such little seeds could taste so good? How had he never noticed before?

He smiled to himself, proud of this first step. Perhaps it was his optimism but the churning in his stomach seemed to settle as the bus pulled up. It wasn’t until he was sitting down watching the buildings go by that he realised his sore throat wasn’t present, his cold must have finally passed! Things really were looking up. When he arrived he stepped off the bus with more confidence than he had felt in years; today was the first day of a new life, he could feel it.

“John!”

Giovanni waved from out front and jogged up to meet him.

“Have you heard the news?”

“What news?”

“The company is giving people paid time off indefinitely if they get this new flu that’s going around.”

“Woah, seriously?” John gaped, “Surely everybody will be faking it now.”

“Nah,” Giovanni shook his head in disbelief, “Apparently, the virus does something that changes you. You can’t fake it. The government is apparently trying to keep it all hush hush but more and more guys are coming down with it apparently.”

“Is it that deadly?” John felt the twisting in his gut start anew.

“No, that’s the thing! Nobody is dying or even getting that sick.” Giovanni mused, “I’ve been following it online and anybody who gets it clams right up!”

“Weird.”

They continued to chat as they entered the building and John was shocked to see posts and flyers stuck on every wall and surface saying exactly what Giovanni said. Anybody with a doctors note proving they had this new Chicken Flu was to head home immediately. Out of curiosity John grabbed one, stuffing it into his jacket pocket to read on his break. There was no harm in having the information handy, just in case.

~

His throat may have been better today but his brain fog certainly wasn’t. It seemed like every thought he had was passing through molasses but he pushed through; he couldn’t disappoint Jessica again. Still, he gave a sigh of relief when it was finally lunch time; it seemed the molasses in his brain was also effecting time.

“Hey, John! Want to get lunch?” Jessica smiled; his heart gave a little flutter.

Jessica had always made a point of inviting him to group events, but they had never hung out one on one. Socially.

‘Don’t read into it, John.’ He reminded himself, ‘She’s just being nice.’

“Sure, sounds great.”

He watched as Steve shot him the stink eye as he walked down the hall to the cafeteria next to Jessica. He resisted the urge to stick his tongue out like a child. This may not have been a date but it still felt good to stick it to the asshole after yesterday.

“Thanks for joining, Steve is finding any excuse to cosy up to me.” Jessica sighed and that flutter in John’s heart disappeared. Of course, he and Steve famously didn’t get on; it wasn’t that Jessica wanted to spend time with just him, she just wanted to use him as a Steve-Be-Gone.

‘It’s only lunch at work you idiot, what were you expecting?’

“Yeah, no problem.” He bit into his sandwich so she wouldn’t see his forced smile.

“You’re still looking a bit peaky, John.” She pouted her lips in concern before reaching over and laying a hand on his forehead, “You feel warm.”

“Oh, it’s nothing!” He laughed nervously, trying not to blush at the casual touch like a flustered teenager. “Don’t worry about it, how are you?”

“Oh fine.” She gave him an unconvincing smile as she sat back down, “This new flu has everybody worried though, James’ team already has three guys out till God knows when with it. Of course, it gets taken seriously straight away because it’s only effecting men. If it was the other way around everybody would be waving it off and telling us ladies to get back to work.”

“Probably.” He gave her a sympathetic wince. He’d often seen how the other team leaders treated Jessica differently just because she was a woman.

He may not have been the most popular guy but at least he didn’t have to deal with people speaking down on him just because of how he was born.

“Sorry you have to deal with so much crap with those guys, Jessica.” He said, “This is why I am happy right where I am, no management goals here!”

“You’ve got the right idea,” she laughed, “and you know, you can call me Jess if you like, most of my friends do.”

The word ‘friends’ made a little butterfly appear in his stomach again and begin fluttering. It was nice to know she considered him a friend as well, even if she was his superior. He resisted the urge to glance over to where Steve was sitting.

“Sure, Jess.” The word felt funny on his tongue, “I uh, I don’t really have a nick name but you could call me…Johnny? No that feels wrong. Please never call me that.”

Jess snorted, almost choking on her lunch as she devolved into a fit of giggles. He chuckled too, it was nice, a casual lunch with somebody besides Giovanni for once. They continued to chat about nothing until the break was over and he was forced back to his desk. His good mood soured over the next few hours though, the stomach cramps were back and spreading. His chest was beginning to feel sore and no matter how much he rubbed and massaged at the skin under his shirt it wouldn’t go away. It almost felt the skin was stretching, constantly sending pins and needles across his chest. Not only that but there was something he could only describe as a pressure in his stomach. It didn’t feel like any kind of indigestion he’d ever experienced, it almost felt as though there were rocks or some other hard object rolling around inside his intestines. He found himself constantly shifting, trying to get comfortable and failing miserably.

He tried to focus on the task at hand, explaining the different price brackets available to the man he was on the phone with, but it wasn’t going well. How was he supposed to focus when his skin was constantly irritated? Eventually he had no choice but to signal Giovanni to help and transfer the caller. Shooting him a grateful look he stood, he was useless right now, he had to go home. Jess, thankfully, was understanding when he said his cold was making it too hard to work.

“I thought you looked off, go home and get some rest.” She smiled.

Feeling thoroughly humiliated, he turned and made his way home.

~

At home he was once again greeted by his new nemesis, the stairs. It wasn’t a fair fight really; he was severely outnumbered. Still, he took a deep breath and when he finally sunk the key into his apartment door a sense of satisfaction filled him; he’d not stopped for a rest this time. He rubbed at his aching chest; a hot bath was in order.

John breathed a sigh of relief as he lowered his naked body into the water, heat instantly seeping into his skin and soothing the aches. He leaned his head back against the cool porcelain edge of the tub and closed his eyes, breathing in the steam and letting it open his pores. He took a moment to enjoy the silence and heat before opening his eyes again and immediately regretting the decision. The water warped his body beneath its surface, making him look even rounder than usual. He grimaced, closing his eyes again and doing his best not to think of that accursed pizza.

‘Once I am done here’ he vowed, ‘I’ll cook something proper for dinner, something healthy.’

After some time, the steam began to fade but to his irritation, the stretching sensation did not. He sat up, feeling the water cascade down his chest and shivering at the sensation. The skin was much more sensitive than usual, perhaps he had been rubbing at it more than he realised? He inspected the area, fully expecting to find some sort of rash from where the material of his shirt had irritated the skin but found nothing but smooth skin. Very smooth skin. He had definitely put on weight there but rather than looking flabby his pecs seemed to have taken on a more rounded shape, the skin stretching over it was taunt.

“Great, I’ve got man tits.” He sighed, how had he managed to put on that much weight without realising?

He hefted himself out of the bath and went about drying off, the sensitive skin across his chest making it somewhat difficult. They really did almost look like breasts, he flushed with embarrassment, God, what would Steve say if he ever saw him without a shirt? As he towelled himself dry he was also irritated to note his hips also seemed a little wider. If he continued at this rate he was going to need a new belt. More motivated than ever, he got dressed and headed to the kitchen to cook something one of those self-help gurus online would be proud of.

~

It had taken some googling and it didn’t look nearly as good as the picture on the website but John still felt a sense of pride looking down at his little bowl of sesame noodles. He’d had a craving for the little seeds all day ever since his bagel. Twisting the noodles around his fork and popping them in his mouth the feeling of accomplishment swelled within him, not only was it healthy but it tasted great! He patted his round belly if he kept eating like this and climbing those stairs every day that would be a thing of the past. Feeling confident for the first time in a while John settled himself down on the couch to enjoy his meal and switched on the tv.

The image on the screen made him chuckle with surprise; it was some sort of woman with a few patches of feathers sprouting from her hairline. She was sitting in a hospital room holding her rotund tummy like she had a stomach-ache. Funny as the idea was, he had to admit whatever special effects they were using looked incredibly real. Though the effect was undercut somewhat when a woman holding a microphone stepped into the picture.

‘This new strain of Chicken Flu continues to baffle scientists. They are all at a loss as to how a simple virus can change men at the genetic level but the proof is right here in front of us folks. This young man, Jason Henricks, is just one of many who are succumbing to the virus’ strange effects. The most alarming of all being the editing of his chromosomes. For those of you who never took genetics in high school the take away is this: Jason Henricks is now biologically female.’

John almost choked on a noodle. This wasn’t a movie, it was the news! The reported approached Jason, who was sitting wearing a hospital gown that was straining to contain his breasts and stomach. Had the reported not said anything John wouldn’t have believed the person on screen had been a man a few short weeks ago. With his curvaceous figure and wide eyes he looked like a plus sized model. Those pretty eyes were shining now in the interview.

“It was just a cold.” He started, “But then my chest started to swell and before I knew it…I had started developing breasts...”

A stone began to form in John’s stomach.

“But then the changes kept coming, now I am growing feathers and no matter what I eat my stomach keeps getting rounder. The doctors are monitoring me round the clock but they have no idea how to stop what’s happening.”

John had stopped eating, one hand unconsciously moving to his own swollen chest. He tried to swallow but his mouth had gone dry. The interview portion of the report had ended now and the reporter appeared again, Jason in the background was clutching his stomach. John’s eyes were glued to the screen as the reporter shrieked, camera flailing to zoom in on Jason as he groaned, dropping to the ground where he squatted and began to tense. The reporter was babbling away in the background but John was totally focused on Jason as his face twisted with a mixture of pain and pleasure before finally, relief. His body shuddered and just before the live footage cut back to the station, John swore he saw an egg land on the ground between the former man’s feet.

All of a sudden, that stone in John’s stomach felt more physical than metaphorical. With shaky hands he put down the bowl of half-eaten noodles. He sat frozen on the couch but his heart and mind were racing. Surely…surely that couldn’t be what was happening to him?

With a burst of adrenaline he was off the couch, racing back to the bathroom, ripping off his shirt as he went. He stood before the mirror, panting with panic and exertion as he studied every inch of his appearance, desperately looking for some sign that his assumption was wrong. Okay, he’d had a little cold but it was gone now and he was feeling fine! Yes, he’d put on a little extra weight quite quickly but that had to be a coincidence! He lifted a hand up to his naked chest and cupped one of the small mounds. The skin was sensitive and smooth and while still quite small, they were undeniably round. His studied his nipples, usually nothing more that dullish brown nubs but now he could see they too had grown and taken on a more pinkish hue. It was a small change, but one he couldn’t deny.

The hand dropped to sit upon his round stomach, that stone still hadn’t gone away. It was likely just his imagination but he swore he could feel it rolling around inside him. He saw Jason again in his minds eye, the way his face had looked as that egg fell out of him; John couldn’t help but wonder what that felt like. A shiver went up his spine at the thought, the idea that he may have to do that in the future should have horrified him but instead he found himself filled with a sense of curiosity and another more shameful feeling. Shaking such thoughts away he fumbled for his phone. There was no way he could go to work tomorrow, not until he was sure about his situation. If he really did have this new Chicken Flu the last thing he needed was to start laying eggs in the middle of the call centre!

His thumb hovered over the call button. He had to tell Jessica about the situation but she must have seen that news report as well, if she hadn’t the news would reach her soon enough. Humiliation burned through him at having to admit what was happening to him but what choice did he have. With a deep breath his hit call, part of him prayed she wouldn’t pick up.

“Hi, John!”

No such luck.

“Hey Jess.” The name still felt foreign on his tongue, “I’m ah…I am really sorry but I don’t think I’ll be back at work tomorrow.”

“Oh no!” Her voice was filled with genuine sympathy, “Is your cold getting worse?”

“Sort of. I…I’m not sure yet but I think I might have that new Chicken Flu.”

An awkward silence, punctuated by phone static, stretched out between them. John’s mind raced, what was she thinking right now? Did she think he was disgusting? A freak?

“Are you okay?”

He’d been ready for frustration, even revulsion but the genuine care in Jess’ voice caught him off guard. She sounded worried.

“I think so.” His voice felt wobbly, “Sorry I am letting you down-“

“Don’t even finish the thought!” She cut him off, “I know there is a lot still up in the air with this new flu, if you do have it, I know you must already have a lot on your plate. Don’t worry about work, just look after yourself, okay?”

“Thanks, Jess.”

John felt warmth spread through his chest at her care.

“You just call if there is anything I can help with.”

“Will do, I guess I’ll see you…later.”

He swore he could hear her smile as she hung up.

“Later.”

~

John slept fitfully; in his dreams he was laying on a great pile of soft downy feathers. Every time he tried to sit up he’d sink deeper and deeper into them until finally he was completely submerged. He wasn’t worried though, the feathers were so fluffy and soft he couldn’t resist curling up to rest. Only for the feathers to tighten around him, forming a hard shell. He realised, as the last cracks of light were disappearing that he had been sealed inside a massive egg, the walls of which were slowly closing in on him.

He awoke with a start, panting and coated in in a thin sheen of sweat. For a moment John felt confused by the sunlight filtering through his blinds before realising the egg had just been a figment of his imagination. He ran his hands over his face, wiping away the sweat and letting his heart beat calm.

Just a dream.

What wasn’t a dream were his hands. They didn’t quite feel right against his face; with some trepidation he slowly raised them up so he could see them in full. They were his hands, right down the tiny scar above his thumb he got years ago trying to catch a knife that fell from the benchtop. Yes, they were his but they were wrong. It was a subtle wrongness, a slight increase in length, a smoothing of the skin, if asked to elaborate further John wouldn’t be able to aside from the one word that rattled in his brain.

Feminine.

There was something undeniably feminine about his fingers now and that thought set his heart racing all over again. Nervously he sat up and he knew instinctively, without looking that his chest as grown more in the night. He could feel them now; the two mounds hanging against his chest. Keeping his eyes straight ahead he slipped a hand under his sleep shirt and ran a finger along the underside of the flesh. What had started as flab had become taunt and round, still small enough that with the right clothes he could hide it but what was happening was undeniable now. He had the Chicken Flu.

He was going to become a woman.

Withdrawing his hand he removed the shirt, like ripping of a bandaid he finally looked down at them, his breasts. They were still growing, he could tell, still round and perky unlike the heavy things he’d seen on Jason last night. The idea of them growing more filled him with both fear and, funnily enough, excitement. The conflicting emotions swirled inside him, leaving him more confused than anything. He could tell without looking that he was still male in the place that counted but for how long? Neither of the reports he’d seen had mentioned a timeframe. Then again, they still didn’t know the extent of the changes yet. After a thorough inspection of his own body he confirmed he didn’t have any feathers yet at least.

He grabbed his phone, ready to google up as much information as he could. He needed to prepared himself for what was to come. Before he could though, his phone began to ring and a familiar picture appeared on screen. That stone in his gut returned as he answered.

“Hey, Giovanni.”

“John! Is it true?”

“Is what true?” He asked dumbly.

“You know what!” Giovanni replied incredulously, “Jessica just told me you’ve got it.”

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure I do.” There was no point in denying it at this point, “The uh, changes, they’ve started.”

“No way! Those reports weren’t faked? You’re really turning into…”

“A woman…”

“Hen.” Giovanni corrected, “From what I have heard, the guys who get it are being called hens now.”

A hen. He was turning into a hen. He must have forgotten to reply because Giovanni’s voice took on a softer tone.

“Hey, man. It’ll be okay. I’ll still be your best mate, feathers or no feathers.”

Despite the severity of the situation John found himself laughing.

“Seriously?”

“Of course! You’re still you, even if you’re a little more…birdy.”

John felt his eyes roll and gave a rueful smile; no matter the situation Giovanni would always be Giovanni. There was something comforting about that, it grounded him. While he hadn’t had the thought consciously it felt good to know that his friend was going to stick by him no matter what. Even if he did change physically he’d always have his best mate by his side.

“Thanks, Giovanni. That means a lot. Really.”

“I’ve got your back.” He assured him, “You just call if you need anything okay? I know you probably don’t really feel like being in public at the moment.”

That thought hadn’t even crossed his mind yet but as usual, Giovanni was right. They said their farewells and he hung up. There was a lightness in his chest after talking with his friend that made facing the day properly that much easier. Though he noted that stone in his stomach was still there, rolling around. Unbidden the image of that egg appearing between Jason’s legs on tv entered his mind. The stone in his stomach…could it be an egg?

~

After several hours of research John was exhausted. It seemed he was one of tens of thousands of men currently going through this so at the very least he wasn’t alone. Now that the news was out, he’d found everything from online support groups to chat forums for those infected. Opinions seemed to be mixed; some of the men were lamenting their changes, desperate for a cure while others, usually ones further along were encouraging them to embrace their new bodies. For now, John was on the fence, he’d never been proud of his body but it was still his, to have it changed this way against his will seemed wrong.

With apprehension he began clicking on photos and videos, he had to know what was coming and yet part of him wanted to remain blissfully ignorant. The first image was of a fully changed hen; her body that of a curvaceous female and curvaceous really was the word because she was all curves. Her breasts, hips, ass and belly were all round, her arms and legs were thick though it was hard to tell under the smooth layer of brown feathers that most of her body, stopping at a fluffy ruffled collar of down around her neck. He could even see a plume of them just above her rear. She still had a human face, though her nose was quite pointed and hair rimmed with yet more feathers. She certainly didn’t have the body of a supermodel but she was undeniably gorgeous. Comments confirmed his own thoughts, despite her weight and avian features the internet seemed to be going wild for this hen and those like her. Or should he still say him? It was hard to tell. The idea that soon he could look like that was…well, he didn’t really know how to feel. Once again, he read over all the comments praising this hen for her amazing body. He’d never been considered attractive by most metrics, the idea that his big belly could be considered sexy of all things was…interesting.

Regardless, he hadn’t reached nearly that level of transformation yet, he had times to come to terms with it. Hopefully. There was one last thing he had left to research. It seemed like every site had at least one section, if not multiples, dedicated to it. The eggs. Just like their full avian counterparts, these new human hens laid eggs. Just thinking about it made that same pressure, the stone in his gut, feel stronger. In the forums some hens talked about how it felt, some disliked the act of laying but most found it surprisingly enjoyable. When he came across a blue hyperlink to a video his mouse hovered over it nervously. He was already feeling overwhelmed but his curiosity could not be ignored. In a trance like state he clicked, the video loading almost instantly to show yet another chubby, feather coated woman squatting on her bed. He watched, unable to look away as she tensed a few times, grunting with exertion before a white shell appeared between her pussy lips before spilling out onto the bed, a look of relief and pleasure on her face.

John closed the browser immediately, his face burning red. He almost wished the blush was from embarrassment but he couldn’t lie to himself. Desire swirled inside him, maybe it was because he was already infected there was no way to tell, but watching that hen lay an egg had turned him on instantly. His nipples hardened against his shirt and he was suddenly hyper aware of all that new, stretched skin across his chest. Swiftly he closed his laptop and went to take a very long, cold shower.

~

John felt as though he were a ticking time bomb. Every subtle new feeling, every possibly tingle of skin that could signal another change had him in high alert. The day seemed to pass ten times slower than normal and by the time the sun had set he was exhausted. Not to mention sore. The stomach cramps had returned with a vengeance but unlike the ones he was used to these had pleasure mingled with the pain. They came in pulses, the muscles in his abdomen and legs would tighten painfully and then release, filling him with a pleasant stretching feeling after being so wound up. They seemed to be getting stronger as the night went on making it impossible to focus on anything. He had no choice but to simply go to bed and hope he could fall asleep.

He curled up on his side, arms wrapped around his belly, feeling the muscles behind it clench once more. This time though, something was different. The muscles were tightening but there was no pain, only a warm burn like a sore muscle being stretched out after too long. And it wasn’t stopping. The muscles didn’t release this time, instead the sensation spread, moving down his legs before settling between them.

Oh God, it was happening.

He wasn’t sure how, perhaps a new hen instinct, but he knew what was about to happen. That warm tingle went from pleasant to pleasure in the blink of an eye. Coating his skin and seeping deep into his very core as he felt his cock shrinking and insides rearranging. It should have felt wrong, to have one’s organs shifting and transforming inside but it didn’t; it felt wonderful. He moaned, one hand coming up to bite down on his knuckles while the other rested on one of his new breasts. John swore he could feel them swelling under his fingers as his nipples turned hard. It was an impossible feeling to fully describe, the sensation of his cock turning into a warm, wet hole. He could feel dampness taking root between his legs, hardness becoming soft and then a strange absence as his member fully disappeared inside himself. He shuddered as the muscles finally released and he found himself panting from both exertion and lust. Still though, the most overwhelming feeling was pure curiosity.

With haste fuelled by desire he moved to the bathroom and unhooked the mirror from above the sink, sitting himself down on the floor with it propped up against the wall. Then, with a deep breath, he slowly removed his boxers. John may not have been the most popular guy out there, but he knew what a pussy looked like, but the fact that he was seeing one between his own legs filled him with that same confliction as before. Biting down on a knuckle he slowly spread his legs, eyes glued to the reflection in the mirror so he could take in every detail. The change was still happening, he could see the sink stretching ever so slightly before coming to rest in its new permanent shape. The lips were pink, surrounded by a mound of neat dark hair. He could see the moisture glistening under the light of the room and his own tiny pink clit stood out prominently.

Moving the hand from his mouth he braced himself, leaning backwards so he could see from the best possible angle. Desire filled him as his muscles spontaneously tightened once more and he watched as wetness leaked from his hole in response. With his free hand he reached forward, surprised to find it steady and gently ran a finger down his new folds. The feeling was instant and electric, he had to bite down on his lip to stop a moan escaping. He repeated the gesture, watching in the mirror and his folds continued to get wetter with every stroke. The pleasure pooled in his lower stomach, feeding into those muscle pulses that continued to increase his desire. His fingertip pressed against his hole but not yet feeling brave enough to breach that new territory he swiped upwards to circle his clit. This time a moan did escape, his legs spasming with a mixture of pleasure and the tightening in his core. He pressed down on the sensitive nub, experimenting with different speeds and pressures as he continued to touch. Using his other fingers to spread the lips wide and allow him as much access as possible. The skin was so sensitive and he wanted to touch it all.

He could see it in the mirror, more wetness leaking from him as the pleasure began to build to untenable levels. He could feel his insides coiling as the pressure increased along with his pace. He was rubbing his clit hard and fast now, unable to look away from the mirror as he began to crest. He could feel his inner walls clenching, desperate for friction and a blush spreading across his new breasts. The pleasure kept building, each stroke better than the last until finally he felt himself balancing right on the edge. Once again, his muscles tightened and pure pleasure washed through him like a wave as he came. Wetness flooded out of him and he shuddered, legs instinctively clutching around his finger and holding it against his oversensitive clit until the orgasm finally ended.

The ecstasy left him gasping and he watched his breasts rise and fall in the reflection as he tried to catch his breath. He removed his finger, fully prepared to clean himself up and return the mirror to its proper place but never got the chance as yet another muscle spasm hit him. This one felt different though; pleasurable yes but there was something instinctual about it, something that made him spread his legs once more as it repeated. He found himself tensing the muscles in his lower abdomen in time with the third pulse and suddenly became aware of that solid feeling in his stomach. It was lower now, the stone, but he could feel it more strongly than ever. It was moving down through him with each pulse and he found himself grunting with each contraction of muscle.

He knew what was happening. He was laying an egg! The realisation filled him with so many emotions he couldn’t settle on one but his new hen instincts wouldn’t let him stop. His insides were still sensitive and overstimulated from the orgasm, each time he tensed he could feel the residual pleasure pass through him. He felt the egg enter his inner walls and he moaned, feeling it forced through him, rubbing up against his G-spot as it moved down until finally, he saw it. In the mirror he watched as his lips parted, a smooth white shell filling his hole. With one finally push it exited him, spinning across the slick tiles and into the mirror where it wobbled for a moment. Another small orgasm rocked through him as it left him and John collapsed back against the bathroom floor. It took a few minutes to compose himself, letting the post orgasm haze fade from his mind and allowing him to get up to inspect the egg. It looked, by all accounts, like a regular chicken egg except it came from him. How long would it take before he felt the urge to lay another? The fact that he knew he would sent a shiver up his spine

Unsure on how to proceed he hopped into the shower to clean himself up and it was then that he realised there was a single, tiny brown feather nestled within the hair between his legs.

~

John laid on his side in bed, egg nestled in his palm. He was unsure what to do with it but he knew he couldn’t throw it away. Several hours had passed and he could already feel something solid forming in his gut again, something told him this time it wouldn’t just be a single egg.

Gently, he placed the item down on his bedside table and sat up, reaching for his work jacket where he’d dumped it on the floor. It took some rummaging but he found what he was looking for, the pamphlet he’d picked up at work. There was little information on it; mostly just instructions for any man showing flu symptoms to monitor themselves carefully. On the back was a number for a special research facility; he knew he had to contact them, if nothing else he needed to get an official doctors note so he could continue getting paid but the idea frightened him. He remembered how Jason had looked in that medical gown. These changes were hard enough, he didn’t want to spend his days in some clinic being tested.

He took a deep breath and took the plunge, punching in the numbers and hitting call before he could lose his nerve. A voice filled with forced cheer answered.

“Anton Medical Research Facility, Anne speaking.” The trained response was almost robotic, “How may I assist you.”

“Um, my name is John Gonzales and I have that new flu.” His leg fidgeted against the side of the bed.

“Can you name your symptoms?” The sound of a keyboard clacking filled his ears.

“Sure, I had a cold but then I started growing and…and I’ve laid an, egg.” He blushed at the last admission but he may as well have told Anne the sky was blue for all the reaction she gave.

“Yeah, sounds like you’re a hen now alright.” She mused, “Address?”

He gave it and was treated to another round of typing, his mind still spinning at the idea of being called a hen.

“Doctor will be around to assess you tomorrow.” She said sounding bored, “I must let you know that if this is some sort of prank you will be finned for wasting medical professionals time during this busy period.”

“It’s not a prank.” John choked out, “Thank you.”

She hung up without another word. Despite the brusque treatment he felt a sense of calm fill him, at least he didn’t have to go out. His calm was interrupted by a now familiar clenching of muscles in his core. The urge to lay was instinctual and irresistible and he found himself removing his pants in an almost trance like state. This time he squatted on the balls of his feet, rhythmically tightening his muscles in time with each contraction and moaning as he felt the solid eggs moving inside him.

He was right, he could definitely feel more than one this time. He continued to push, feeling them slowly make their way down to his new pussy. One by one they moved down his passage, rubbing at the sensitive walls and making him gasp with instinctual need. A feeling of satisfaction filled him as the first egg fell to the floor with a small thump followed swiftly by another. They glided down his slick passage with ease until finally, after several minutes he had a tiny cluster of eggs between his feet. With a groan of gratification, he pushed the final one out and fell back on his rear. For the first time realising it was much more cushioned than he was used to. He sighed, taking in the cluster of eggs and gently wiping them clean ready to join his first up on the bedside table.

Taking them in though, he couldn’t help but feel they were incomplete. As beautiful as they were there was something missing, something the lacked. It took him several minutes studying the smooth shells before he realised, his insides ached at the realisation. These eggs really were incomplete. Unfertilised. A new desire formed in the back of John’s mind as the thought formed, a new want that he could feel would slowly become a need. He needed somebody to fertilise these eggs.

He needed a man.