Chapter 2 Settling Into This Body
Several hours later, after navigating Denver traffic and the winding roads up into the foothills, Dr. Elena Kellogg pulled her sleek electric SUV into the driveway of a spacious, contemporary home nestled on a low hill in Boulder.
The place was a far cry from modest suburbia—modern lines, floor-to-ceiling windows offering mountain views, solar panels glinting on the roof, and a Tesla charger already occupied by Mia’s car.
“Hi Doc,” the person who answered the door said warmly.
Mia Brooks was well into her transition and one of Elena’s most successful patients.
Slightly taller than Alex, she had long chestnut-brown hair that cascaded in soft waves, striking features enhanced by flawless makeup, and a generously curvy figure that turned heads.
No one would guess she still had some male anatomy left; her final surgery was pending Elena’s final clearance.
She radiated confidence and quiet wealth.
“Hi Mia. I’d like you to meet Alex Hale. We don’t know the baby’s name yet… at least, not in the way most people would expect.”
Mia smiled brightly and extended a perfectly manicured hand. “Welcome to my home, Alex. We already have the master suite ready for you and the little one. Crib, changing station, everything you could need—smart bassinet with white noise, temperature-controlled bottles, the works.”
Alex clutched the baby tighter against her chest, ignoring the offered hand. The infant—Jordan—stirred sleepily. “And she’s not my baby. She’s Jordan. My wife.”
Mia blinked, stepping back. “Huh?!” She looked to Elena, eyes wide. “Is she for real?”
“That’s exactly what I’m here to figure out,” Elena said calmly. “It’s one hell of a story. Alex will share it when—or if—she’s ready.”
Mia recovered quickly, her expression softening with genuine curiosity. “Well, you’re the best at this stuff, Doc. I assume you’ll be staying here too?”
“Not full-time,” Elena replied. “I’ll devote my days to Alex’s case, but you’ll need to act as custodian whenever I’m not around. Think you can handle that?”
Mia laughed, a self-deprecating sound that carried real warmth.
“I can do that. As you know, I’m basically a rich, lonely layabout these days—working remotely on my investments and scrolling TikTok.
I could use the company. Having a baby in the house will be different, but it might be good practice.
Who knows—maybe they’ll perfect uterine transplants by the time I’m fully ready. ”
“There’s always adoption,” Elena offered gently.
“Yeah, but it’s not the same.” Mia’s gaze drifted to Alex, her lips trembling as a tear glistened at the corner of her eye. “Look at her. I’m so fucking jealous.”
“Ha!” Alex’s laugh was sharp and contemptuous, laced with exhaustion. “I’m sure as hell not looking forward to any of this shit.”
“But you’re a mother already,” Mia pressed softly. “Don’t you love her?”
Alex’s eyes rolled back in pure frustration, the motion jostling her heavy breasts inside the borrowed top. “Haven’t you been listening? Maybe your roots are still showing—blonde under all that dye! She’s not my baby, damn it. Jordan was my wife! I can’t make it any clearer than that.”
Elena stepped in smoothly before the tension could spike. “Mia, why don’t you show Alex and Jordan to their room so they can get settled?”
They got a quick tour of the stunning tri-level home first. The main floor featured an open-concept living room flowing into a gourmet kitchen and dining area, a half-bath, and a double garage stocked with Mia’s outdoor gear.
A short stairwell led down to a massive multi-purpose rec room with smart lighting and a wide glass wall opening onto a huge covered patio complete with a built-in grill, luxury hot tub, and fire pit.
The yard boasted a mid-sized heated pool with mountain views.
Upstairs on the third level sat the large master suite, two guest bedrooms, and a luxurious full bath with a rainfall shower and soaking tub.
“Alex, we set up the master suite for you and Jordan,” Mia declared, leading them in. “Everything you could possibly need is here.”
Elena stepped inside and actually gasped. “How did you pull all this together so fast? I only called you a couple hours ago.”
Mia shrugged with a playful grin. “I’m very resourceful, Doc.
You know that. And I have the means. A few quick calls to some friends in the mom-influencer scene, Venmo payments for rush delivery, and boom—fully stocked nursery.
Smart bassinet that monitors breathing, changing table with warmer, playpen, and that tall white dresser full of essentials. ”
Alex surveyed the suite in stunned silence.
It had everything: a king-size bed with high-thread-count linens, a large modern dresser, a sleek bassinet, changing table, playpen, and a multi-drawer bureau already stocked with diapers, wipes, and tiny clothes.
For the first time since the nightmare began, some of the raw petulance in Alex’s posture eased—just a fraction.
“I… why are you doing all this?” Alex asked, voice thick. “You don’t know me from a random person on the street. You sure as hell don’t owe me anything. Why go this far for a complete stranger?”
Mia’s expression softened. “Let’s just say I’m a softie for a wild story…
and yeah, a little selfish too. Having a baby around might help me explore this strong maternal pull I’ve been feeling in therapy lately.
” She shot Elena a pointed look. The doctor only smirked and shrugged her broad shoulders.
As soon as Elena and Mia left her alone to settle in, Alex’s fragile calm shattered.
She ripped off the ugly green prison dress with a growl, yanking away the industrial nursing bra that dug into her skin.
The sudden freedom made her full, heavy breasts sway and bounce, the engorged globes aching from the earlier feeding.
She rummaged through the dresser and closet until she found a pair of pale lilac sweats that actually fit her new curves.
She hated the soft, feminine color immediately—it screamed “girl” in a way that made her stomach twist. But they were the least girly option available, and right now that was her only victory.
Pulling on the top, she faced two very unpleasant truths.
First, the fabric clung tightly across her chest, the material stretching over her prominent, swollen breasts and outlining the stiff peaks of her nipples far too clearly.
Second, within the hour, telltale wet spots bloomed across the front as milk began leaking again.
“Fuck this,” Alex hissed, a string of creative profanities spilling out that would have made a Denver construction crew blush.
She tore open the drawer again, glaring at the selection of nursing bras.
The industrial one from jail was gone; these were softer, prettier, designed for comfort and easy access.
She had no choice. Grumbling the whole time, she fastened one on, the fabric cradling her lush swells while the flaps allowed easy nursing.
The relief was immediate and infuriating—the supportive hold eased the ache even as it reminded her how sensitive and full she now was.
Panties were another reluctant concession.
Nothing else was available, and going commando felt even weirder in this body.
She slid on a pair of soft, lacy ones, the fabric whispering against her smooth skin and pressing intimately against her flat crotch and the new, hidden folds beneath.
The sensation sent an unwelcome shiver up her spine.
Alex was given some time to acclimate, but she made it damn near impossible for anyone to manage her.
Her only real concession was ensuring little Jordan was fed and changed.
She never seemed to enjoy it—grimacing every time, jaw tight, eyes averted as the baby latched.
Yet her body betrayed her again and again.
The moment Jordan’s tiny mouth closed around a sensitive nipple, that warm, tingling let-down would rush through her.
Milk flowed in steady pulses, easing the heavy fullness with a deep, involuntary throb of relief that bordered on pleasurable.
It made her cheeks burn with humiliation and something darker, hotter—an unwanted spark low in her belly as her new anatomy responded to the rhythmic tugging.
Without Elena around most of the time, Mia tried gently encouraging some basic feminine habits.
“It’ll feel better if you wash and condition that gorgeous hair,” she suggested one afternoon, demonstrating with her own luxurious locks.
Convincing Alex was a battle. Makeup was a hard no.
Deodorant was accepted only because the feminine-scented option was all that was stocked, and Alex complained bitterly the entire time about the “flowery bullshit” invading her personal space.
Despite the luxury Mia had provided—smart TV, high-speed Wi-Fi, a private balcony overlooking the mountains—Alex rarely left the master suite except for meals.
She spent most of her time sleeping, doom-scrolling on the provided tablet, or tending to Jordan.
No one knew if she wore any of the softer feminine pieces to bed; outside the room, she stuck strictly to sweatpants and the plainest tops she could find, the fabric still straining noticeably over her chest with every movement.
The internal war raged constantly. Every sway of her hips, every bounce of her full breasts, every leak or let-down reminded Alex that this body wasn’t hers.
Yet when Jordan nursed, a strange, primal calm would settle over her despite the grimaces and muttered curses.
The warm pull, the rhythmic suckling, the way her nipples throbbed and then softened in satisfaction—it was all too intimate, too sensual in a way that twisted her mind into knots of dysphoria and reluctant fascination.
Mia watched from a careful distance, equal parts concerned and intrigued.
Elena’s visits brought structured sessions, but in between, the house settled into an uneasy new rhythm.
Alex was trapped in curves and instincts she despised…
and the real story of how she and Jordan had ended up like this was only beginning to surface.