My name is Kevin Harris, and I’m from Park Slope in Brooklyn. That’s who I am, and that’s who I’ll always be, no matter what these insane, sadistic bastards do to me.
And, fuck, they’ve done a lot. Apparently, they have access to these advanced hormones that are catered to your DNA. That shit has caused changes in my body that I didn’t think were possible. My skin is soft and smooth, my hair is silky, and my body is insanely curvy. Of course, the hormones didn’t do all of this.
After I was snatched from my home in the middle of the night, they took me back to their facility in the Catskills, and I was forced to work out for hours every morning, eating only chicken, broccoli, and sometimes a little fruit. They also gave me drugs to enhance my workout. And, for the first time in my life, I lost weight.
They made my body into a temple. And when my body was finally ready, the bastard cut off my balls.
I still remember waking up after the surgery. My groin was throbbing with a dull ache. I kept trying to grab at my crotch, but I couldn’t because my wrists were tied down to the table. Holly informed me that I’d been castrated. She said I’d never again be the man I was, and that from now on my name was Katie.
“I know you think this is hell, Katie,” she said. “But Second Dawn isn’t evil. At least, not in the way evil is traditionally defined. The members saw your struggle and your suffering, and they simply wanted to help.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. Help? How could they even call this help? This was the most nightmarish thing I could ever imagine.
“Let’s face facts, okay? Without Second Dawn, you’d still be a fat loser sitting in your mother’s basement, watching porn, playing video games, and dreaming of a better life that will never come. But they saw your potential, Katie, and they wanted to set you free.”
“I’m not a fucking girl!” I screamed. “And I never will be!”
Holly sighed. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that in the last couple of years. Hell, I remember saying it myself when I first came here. But eventually you’ll see how useless it is to deny the truth.”
“Please,” I said. “Just let me go. I’m begging you. I won’t tell anyone.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Holly said. “But they’re not done with you yet.”
From then on, Holly referred to me as a “she,” which fucked with my head just as much as the hormones. And without my nuts, the super-estrogen continued to mold my body like clay, making me curvy and soft, yet somehow also slender and toned.  I never thought I’d say this in my life, but I miss my beer gut and my man boobs. I wish I could go back to being Kevin the fat, ugly loser instead of Katie, the sex bomb.
Maybe Second Dawn really believes they’ve given me a gift, but although I’m in the best shape of my life, it’s not the shape I want.
God, I wish I could say this was just a bad dream. I wish I could wake up and be back in Mom’s basement, playing Call of Duty and eating Cheetos. Holly’s right. That was a pathetic existence, but at least it was mine.
Now? I’m supposedly waiting on some kind of dinner where I’ll be formally presented to the members of Second Dawn. Holly says my best hope is if one of them takes a liking to me and buys me. Buys me! As if I’m a fucking slave.
I’m not a slave. I’m a man. I’m Kevin Harris. I’m not Katie. I’m not a woman. I’m not some sex doll for some rich bastard to dress up and use. Fuck that. I’d rather die first.
So, whatever happens next, I just want whoever reads this to know one thing: Second Dawn didn’t win. They might think they’ve broken me, but they didn’t. I’m still me. And I’m not going to give in to this body or this situation.
I’m not going to give up. Not this time. I might have been a lazy, fat loser before, but this time I’m going to fight. And I’m going to win.