Male To Female Transformation Novels & Stories

When I returned to the corporate research and development press conference, I knew Tyler Zach would step forward to accuse our team of plagiarism, yet I chose to turn a blind eye. In my previous life, Tyler’s accusation had caused Nelson Corporation to instantly lose ten percent of its core interests. Back then, I stepped up and single-handedly saved the day. Not only did I ensure the press conference ended smoothly, but I also used the opportunity to elevate the company’s reputation to new heights. However, I was eventually betrayed. My first love, Rosie Nelson, fabricated evidence against me and sent me to prison. Even the results of my project were falsely credited to Tyler. I refused to believe it. I bombarded her with questions and demanded answers. Rosie’s eyes were filled with guilt, but she only replied, “Evan, Tyler came from humble beginnings. He can’t afford to lose this once-in-a-lifetime chance to make a name for himself! “Don’t worry. We’ll get married once you’re out.” I fought desperately to appeal, but I was beaten to death in prison. I wondered if Rosie could handle the company’s losses without me fighting tooth and nail to turn things around this time. I did not expect Rosie to turn to me at the most critical moment of the conference with panicked eyes and urge me desperately, “Evan! Why aren’t you on stage explaining everything yet?!”

My name is Dylan Reed. I’m a senior college student on the track-and-field team.

The boss's wife, Irene Peters, was insanely hot. She would often just stretch out her soft, stockinged feet and sway them in front of me. I couldn't help myself and snapped a quick photo. Then I ducked into the restroom, staring at it while pleasuring myself. I was halfway through when the door suddenly swung open. Irene stood there, staring at me with her eyes wide. "Wow, how are you that big? And what were you doing, taking pictures of me?" I jumped, scrambling to pull my pants back up. But instead of getting mad, she looked almost amused. "You're done for. I'm telling Fabian." A minute later, my boss, Fabian Peters, showed up. I braced myself, expecting to get chewed out or fired on the spot. Instead, he stuffed a wad of cash into my hand. "My wife hasn't been able to get pregnant," he said. "You're well-built. Help me out."

When I was ten years old, I was kidnapped by some human traffickers, where I was sold to an old widow as her slave. She locked me up in a pig sty and had me solve all of my basic needs there, be it eating, drinking, or defecating. My life there was less than that of livestock. My parents never gave up on looking for me. They managed to save me when I was 17 years old. On the day I get reunited with them, my mom's eyes redden when she notices how skinny I've become. "Oh dear, just how much have you suffered, my child?" My dad just keeps slapping himself the whole time. "We're so sorry, Silas…" Even my younger brother reaches out, hoping to take me home. That's when I finally realize that I have a home now. In order to repay my family for their benevolence, I've laced their food with the most potent poison. That way, their deaths will be painless.

My mother-in-law was rushed to the hospital with sudden chest pain and sent straight into emergency surgery. However, my wife, who was the head of the thoracic department, insisted that her clueless young male apprentice be the lead surgeon instead. The apprentice stood in front of the operating table. He couldn’t even recognize half of the surgical instruments laid out before him. He pouted and fidgeted a little. “I forgot again…” My wife just smiled indulgently at him. Even though the patient’s chest had been opened, she patiently spent ten minutes explaining the instruments to him before the surgery finally began. In the end, the apprentice’s hand trembled, and he accidentally punctured the tumor. Terrified, he let out a sharp scream and threw himself into my wife’s arms. To console him, my mother-in-law’s only chance at survival was gone, and she died right there on the operating table. My wife walked out of the operating room, supporting her badly shaken apprentice, and glanced at me indifferently. “Before you take your mother’s body away, provide an affidavit of non-prosecution to the hospital. Your mom couldn’t have been saved anyway. Anthony is still young. His future can’t be ruined because of your mother.” Only then did I realize that she thought the person lying on that operating table was my mother. I chuckled and said, “I'm afraid I'm not qualified to do that.”

Sated from their passionate deed, Jonathan Sheffield rises and gently scoops the worn-out Eloise Carter into his arms. He cleans her in the bathroom, carries her back to bed, and lets her settle in. Normally, Eloise will have fallen asleep by now. But she won't allow herself to doze off tonight, not before she takes out the birthday present she's carefully prepared for Jonathan. Jonathan is making a phone call out on the balcony when Eloise quietly takes out the present she has hidden. It's a red velvet box, containing the ring she plans to give him when she proposes. She inches closer to the balcony and is about to speak when she freezes. A shocked, male voice rings out from the other end of Jonathan's phone, which he's casually left on the balcony ledge. "What the hell? You must be out of your mind, Jonathan! You're planning to take Eloise's heart and give it to Sonia?"

I'm Serena Sorrento, the sole daughter of Don Salvatore Sorrento. After seeing the news of a female employee getting stalked and assaulted by a stalker on her way home from work, I spend millions of dollars arranging specialized cars for every female employee in my company when they get off work at night. At first, I thought I'd receive a "thank you" from them. But those employees have the gall to criticize me on various major social media platforms. "Our boss is practically forcing us to work overtime!" "Why must employees hand over the information of their home addresses to the company, anyway?" "Since our boss has money to buy those luxury cars, she might as well give us the money right away!" The entire Internet bashes me for capitalizing on my charity, gloating about my wealth, and not knowing what my employees actually want. After receiving a bombardment of insulting and humiliating text messages, I decide to take the Internet's advice and call for a mandatory company meeting. "After receiving the sincere feedback from all the employees, I shall terminate the specialized pick-up service from today onward. Instead, I shall have it reclassified as a transportation allowance. Those who are eligible shall receive 100 dollars per month." As soon as the announcement is made, the entire company goes crazy.

I had been sexually assaulted. Just as I was about to wash away the filth clinging to my body, I saw a flood of scrolling comments: [What insane luck does the female lead have? She just goes to sleep and ends up having sex with a hot guy.] [I just saw the male lead’s eight-pack abs. Damn it, she’s got it so good. Let me take her place for a couple of episodes.] [Hehe, next the female lead is going to run away pregnant. A little baby is about to be born.] [Call the police. Go to someone you trust. Whatever you do, don’t wash away the evidence.] My gaze lingered on the last comment. After a long silence, I reached out and turned off the shower.

After my wife, Simone Inman, gets into a car accident, I examine her as her doctor and discover that she has a malignant brain tumor. Afraid that she will be devastated, I plan to tell her later. So, I hide the medical report in my bag. But when she happens to see it, she mistakenly thinks it is my diagnosis instead. One day, when I arrive at her office, I overhear her talking to her best friend, Mindy Fox. She says, "My husband has no talent, no looks, only money. And now, he even has a tumor in his brain… If Shawn hadn't gone abroad back then, I would never have married him. I'm so unlucky! But good thing I never agreed to have children with him. Once he dies, all his money will be mine." Later on, she claims she has amnesia after the car accident and cannot remember who I am. She even treats her male secretary, Shawn Erskine, as her husband and blatantly brings him into our home. I smile scathingly and say, "Let's get a divorce, Simone."

The medication I kept at the company had been switched, resulting in me suffering from acute kidney failure. After the emergency surgery, I asked my wife, Rebecca Little, to thoroughly investigate the company's employees. Instead, I discovered she had already deleted the surveillance footage from that day. When I confronted her, she brushed me off coldly. "I found the person responsible. He wanted to turn himself in, but I stopped him. Look, you're fine now, aren't you? Hendrix didn't do it on purpose. He's so young—if he went to jail, his life would be ruined. Let's just drop the matter, okay?" The person she was defending was none other than the male secretary, Hendrix Cannon, she had been flirting with lately. I was speechless. Nine years of love and trust disintegrated in an instant.