Free Nano by Melody Mounier

across the expanse of black and white checked tile to the urinals.  Funny now to think that I'd make a big mess trying to use them now.  Even pissing for me was now a distinctively feminine procedure.
    John was clever, sending me here.  In the past couple of weeks I'd gotten used to being a girl, at least by most measures.  I'd grown accustomed to the constant and casual scrutiny of men. The sexual undertones of every conversation I had with the stronger sex had at first frustrated me, since I knew that whatever I said wouldn't be taken seriously - to most, if not all men, I was pretty first and the quality of my mind came a distant second.  By now, however, I realized that if that was a man's natural response to a sweet, deferential girl like me, then I too had a natural response - probably unlike most women's - and such interactions left me feeling even more like my life was a fantasy fulfilled.  Let other women feel indignant at such treatment.  I thrived on it.  Knowing what men wanted to do to me made me feel safe somehow - a submissive woman feels most vulnerable when she isn't being put in her place.
    But.
    Here, in this room, I was reminded that my masculinity had been taken from me.  In the aggressive, dog-eat-dog world that I had once inhabited, I was no longer a participant.  I was now a toy for the competitors to play with.
    In this room, I felt completely powerless, cowed by the enormity of what John had done to me, had made me do to myself.
    This was a place for men.  A woman didn't belong here.  I was here only by the command of my master, and by his indulgence.  He was letting me see once more, briefly, into the world I had once belonged to.
    Well, I thought, I did still belong to that world - but as a servant.  Here on my knees, my face on the floor, was the only place proper for me.
    I heard the door unlock, and the bootsteps against tile.  The door shut and locked again.
    "At ease, Anne-Marie."  It was John's voice, Master's voice.  I rolled back onto my haunches, then stood, one knee bent sideways, hands at my sides, my cheek turned to the right.  I heard his bootsteps approach, and shuddered.  His presence always had that effect on me.
    He circled me, using his hands to make slight corrections in my posture - minor ones, really, but which had the effect of making the position slightly more uncomfortable.
    "You've adjusted well, Anne-Marie," he finally said.  He was now standing directly in front of me, although because my head was turned I could only see him in my peripheral vision.  He towered over me, standing inches from my naked body, not touching me.  I could feel his body heat, smell his distinctly male odor.  Something about the way he smelled always made me feel weak, made me feel as if I were in the presence of some kind of god.  "You train well, are obedient and eager, and judging from my surveillance reports, you've fully acclimated to the sex and life I've consigned you to.  I note that you haven't attempted anything objectionable as Mr. Dentz's secretary, and according to my projections you've passed the point where you'll have the courage to do so.  In fact, as of last week the computer analysis showed you to be effectively neutralized as a threat.  You are no longer dangerous to me."
    He ran his fingers lightly over my nipples, which stiffened under his touch.
    "I believe it's therefore safe to tell you that the nano-modification you self-administered was not exactly what you programmed.  I made slight changes.  I found nothing objectionable in the physical and emotional programming you made - you did quite well there, exactly what I expected.  The duration, however, was unsatisfactory.  It was unacceptable to me for you to have your previous identity returned to you, even after a year, because I have other plans for Sam Smith.  The DNA caps, I'm afraid, are encoded to my private encryption key.  And I have no intention of unlocking them.  You are Anne-Marie