Changed in Space

Disclaimer: The following work was originally published in the mid-1980's by Empathy Press (Seattle) in the series "Skirted Men" #32, with the only full color cover that they ever produced to-date. This work is the exclusive property of the authors and Empathy Press, by whose permission it has been electronically reproduced for dissemination to certain Internet web masters for presentation on their sites. Any reproduction or redistribution without express written (or e-mailed) consent is strictly prohibited. All Rights Reserved.

We had done rather well with our confidence routine. Sue and I had been taking credits from old folks for almost twelve years. Digital banking made theft of any real value difficult, but we had worked out a way. One of us would sleep with the 'mark' while the other programmed a transfer. The sucker would only find out about it when they banked the next time. Then we shuffled the credits through dummy accounts several times to hide our tracks and confound anyone trying to trace the transactions to our real accounts.

Generally, The System's pervasive law enforcement is too busy to bother with non-violent miscreants like us. Regardless, the penalty would probably be little more than a short enforced visit one of several penal planet, passage provided, of course.

So we were careful to keep a low profile by not doing any physical injury to our 'clients' or bystanders. By keeping 'under the legal radar' and colony hopping, we hoped to manage a substantial livelihood, albeit a mobile one by necessity, for a long time.

Yet, despite our best efforts, our luck ran out far sooner than we expected, and it was our own dumb fault. They tracked us down through our supposedly perfect transfer system. We had always known that we could not keep it up forever, so when the end came we tried to take our medicine gracefully, despite the shock. It helped somewhat to know that we would only be sent away. No cramped jail cell. No concrete and bars. Just a new planet at the edge of The System, out of the way. It could have been worse, so we accepted our fate with dignity. Besides, it wasn't as if we had a choice.

We were given one-way passage to Zeta IV, The System's penal planet/colony for non-violent criminals and malcontents. Our transport was a huge cargo vessel converted for prisoner movement. When new, eighty years ago, it had been a fast second-class transport with a Tak rating of 6. Now she was slow compared to most other commercial ships being used. The 129 Light Year distance to Zeta IV took an Interminable 114.6 Earth Standard Days.

There were seventeen of us, thirteen men and four women, Sue and myself included, ranging in age from fourteen to forty-eight. The crew of five avoided us, preferring their own securely sealed area. However, our section of the ship had been modified so the crew had complete control over us. Cameras and microphones monitored our entire section, even the latrines. There wasn't a private unexposed niche to be found anywhere. The rules were simple. We could have privacy, from our fellow 'passengers', in our cabins or mingle in the lounge, but we could not fight or fuck. I mean, Sue and I had been enjoying each other for years, but now, for over three months, we were forbidden that pleasure.

Without computer access or vid-flicks the journey was boring in the extreme. The old-fashioned book library aboard that was available to us was archaic. Time passed slowly since few in our little group were very sociable and we were inside a very efficient prison.

Finally, Zeta IV appeared in the view port. While we maneuvered into a standard stationary orbit, I got a good look at our new home, our jail. It was beautiful, reminding us all of Old Earth but with far more water. Several large landmasses were visible through the Earth-like cloud cover, strung like giant green and brown beads along the equator. We landed near the center of the largest 'continent,' hardly more than a very large island, but somewhat larger than the old Earth area once called Australia. We were transferred to a shuttle, sensors insuring that only the lightweight jumpsuits and our bodies were allowed onto the craft. The ride down was very uncomfortable since we were crammed into an area intended for ten occupants, not seventeen, and we were banged around besides by the auto-control (no human pilot) that had been set for a 3G descent and a 2G landing. When the shuttle door finally popped open we were at the entrance to a reception center, bruised and disoriented. Three women waited to escort us into a large conference room with seating for about 50. When we took our seats I realized that Sue's sweaty trembling hand had been gripping mine since we left the transport. My hand was numb from her fierce grasp.

A huge vid screen was unveiled behind the stage and rostrum and we were introduced to the man whose image appeared there.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began. "We all know why you are here and your dossiers have preceded you so we also know who you are. Zeta IV's first settlers established our laws and customs over 120 years ago and an orderly community has resulted. Although we are technically The System's penal colony, we are self-governed and almost completely self-supporting.

"You must always remember that our social system works, even though you may be in for some major shocks as our methods are explained to you. We expect Earth and The System to continue sending us several thousand exiles a year for the next 30 to 50 years. So, I warn you now for the first and last time. We will have very little patience with those of you who would continue your lawless ways here.

"Zeta IV presently boasts a population exceeding two million. But, our goal is to be at five million by year 170. This growth will allow early recognition in the community of worlds, The System, and make Zeta IV a full-fledged member of The System, no longer a penal colony. The System has used this method several times in the past to populate similar worlds on the fringes of explored space but none has yet achieved a System Charter because they have never reached the required population level. Zeta IV will be the first! This is our objective! Our society and government are totally dedicated to its achievement. Naturally, the influx of 'colonists' like you will never be enough to achieve our ends. The growth we require can only be reached by a continued high birth rate. Therefore, since we expect all Zetans to reproduce as rapidly as possible, any associations formed by any of you women will be enthusiastically encouraged. In addition, other women will be joining your group during your stay here at the Center until more permanent arrangements are made.

"In our system everyone contributes. Therefore, over the next few days you will be required to undergo a variety of testing and evaluations that will assist us in determining where you will best fit into our society. You must forget whatever your 'talents' were before you set foot on Zeta. Our evaluation procedures are thorough and efficient and we will determine your future, regardless of your wishes. Besides, since you know nothing of the unique order into which you have been 'dumped' by The System, you are in no position to decide what is best for yourself or us. The next days will be busy and exhausting, but I think we will all benefit.

"You are here to stay so you had better make the most of it. Just remember that many of the people you see here were once in the same position. Thank you for your kind attention."

The vid went blank and a woman stepped forward and asked each of our women with whom she wanted to live. Sue immediately answered that she would go with me, of course, though to my great relief and satisfaction. We were all given a thick folder of papers with our names stenciled across them in big block letters. It contained a meal schedule, a map of the facilities, and a long list of preliminary testing times and locations. When Sue and I compared our packets, we found that we were to be tested separately. Quarters were then assigned to each man and we were given directions. The women were gathered together and taken away while we men were released to find our new residences and settle in.

My room was very nice. In fact it turned out to be a spacious well-furnished apartment. The front door opened into a living room that included a first-rate entertainment center and a wet bar, while a short hall led to a den and two bedrooms, each with its own private facilities. The larger room had a king-sized bed, and the closet contained a small selection of modern male clothing, all in my size, mostly casual cut, but there were two suits and even workout gear. The smaller bedroom had only a single bed but included a makeup alcove and a sitting area.

Sue arrived about an hour later to find me lounging in the living room with a large drink half consumed. I watched her quickly and professionally survey the apartment as she sat beside me, accepting my offer of a drink as we talked.

"Well," I said, "what do you think of our little prison. Not bad, huh?"

She accepted her drink and sipped at it. "It's really nice Ray, almost posh. We'll be quite comfortable here, even if it is a jail. Of course, it's not much of a lockup, is it? What's the rest of this place look like?" She giggled and there was a lively sparkle in her eye. As I showed her around, I was struck by the fact that the separate bedrooms did not surprise her. She never did say what happened to her and the other women after we were separated. But she was so bubbly and even coy, I knew for certain we would be sharing my large bed soon after dinner.

The next day our evaluations started.

At the Testing Center, a somewhat older woman met me. "Good morning, Ray. I'm Nancy, and I'll be in charge of your program, which would probably last about three months."

"Testing for three months?" I exclaimed. "Incredible!"

But I soon learned why. I was to be more thoroughly examined than I could ever have imagined, even in our techno-modernized world. There were, of course, the obligatory medical and psychological examinations, but the bulk of the time would involve a physical conditioning program that was specifically tailored to my particular needs as dictated by the results of my examinations throughout the testing.

The first day was taken up by a full physical examination. Several things about it seemed strange. I could not understand why they had to scrape the inside of my mouth for cell samples. The hemorrhoid check seemed unusually lengthy. And I'd swear that Doctor left something in there! There were also received several injections that did not seem called for. Then I was taken to a 'conditioning session' for a physical workout that lasted two hours, and left me totally exhausted.

Back at our apartment, Sue was putting a large bundle of clothes away in the smaller bedroom. She was wearing an attractive, sexy outfit and was in a very catty mood. She was all sex as she showed me some of the apparel she had acquired. It was not very long before she was teasing to get me hot, which did not take much effort, despite my recent physical exertion. When I was ready, Sue was racing me for the bed where it was better and she was hotter than ever before.

Next morning Nancy met me back at the Test Center. We started with a series of standard psychological tests and the morning passed quickly. They were all business, very thorough and professional, with only one break before lunch.

Finally, Nancy and I went to eat together in a large cafeteria. As we got our food and sat down, I looked around. The only men I saw among the throng were guys from my transport group.

"Where are all the Zetan men?" I asked Nancy.

"Most work in the upper government, on the farms, or are assigned to the frontier," she explained. "Some are involved in the heavy labor of construction or manufacturing. There are very few in this center, mostly just medical staffers and doctors."

"I thought you were looking for high birth rates? Who do these women get friendly with?" I asked.

Nancy smiled. "There are some places for us to socialize with the men in the city. We do get visitors from outside also. Of course, we have you new arrivals too," she added with a knowing grin.

I did not have to figure out what that meant. "That sounds almost like a proposition," I observed.

"Well, Ray. If you find someone interesting and she is interested as well, then why not be, uh, friendly? In a few days we'll show you a section where the girls are available for your selection whenever you wish. All you have to do is select someone you like and ask her."

"That sounds like a man's sexual fantasy," I observed while trying to hide my own anticipation. "But don't the girls get jealous? Sue can a terror sometimes even though it was how we made our living."

Nancy smiled again. "That's part of the education process here. You will be both be trained not to be jealous if the other finds a 'friend'. Eventually, you might even enjoy watching each other's activities, especially if Sue's choice was a girl, eh?"

I considered her comment. "That could be enjoyable, an aperitif to stimulate my desires. But, I would not like her going to another man."

"Most likely she will, eventually," she stated evenly, "and you will have to accept it. But that all comes later. Let's finish our meal. We still have much to do."

A routine developed quickly. My schedule was split between analysis, educational training, and physical conditioning. The analysis included a long list of mental studies and mind probes that would supposedly contribute toward getting us each plugged into our own individualized niches in the Zetan social and bureaucratic system. The few educational sessions were only simplified briefings on the history and workings of Zeta IV, but were actually just very well 'engineered' propaganda versions that lacked anything remotely resembling really useful information. There was also some discussion on the selection and care or treatment of women by men. The emphasis was on mutual enjoyment with the desired results being pregnancy.

The seemingly unending evaluations and 'training' sessions filled about half of my days with the exercise and conditioning taking another two or three hours. The rest of the day, what little remained, was free for relaxation, entertainment, and friends.

About ten days after our arrival, Nancy announced we were going to do something different, and promptly hauled my out for a long walk across the 'campus', and entered one of the larger buildings. Inside there were scantily clad women everywhere. And I was the only man there! It was few moments before I even noticed that this was some sort of huge fitness center. There were several dance/exercise areas with mirrored walls, like they use for dance and aerobic instruction, but these were on slightly elevated platforms, and the 'observation' side was a wall of glass. It reminded me of the power-ball arenas back home, with the glass wall there so the audience could watch safely. There was also a large open area that looked like the biggest and best-equipped conditioning center I'd ever seen.

"This facility serves several purposes," Nancy explained. "For men, it's a 'browsing' area. For the women it is an exercise and display area, whether they need it or not. You see, the only women who don't use this type of facility already have something going with a man, or are pregnant, or have recently given birth and are nursing mothers. Those who really want to be selected usually use the stages and, as you can see, are somewhat more erotic and suggestive in their workout routines. Those who resist participation have their resistance eliminated."

I was shocked but somehow not surprised by this blatant use of women as baby machines against their will. But, having seen the Center's medical facilities close up, I had no doubt they could mind probe and mentally re-program anyone. I knew that Zeta IV was a prison, but it now seemed even more so for the women here. The men seemed to have it made. Here was a world-size harem from which any man could pick and choose. I liked it, but then, I was male.

"Raymond, dear, why don't you browse about," Nancy suggested.

"Huh?" I replied, dumbfounded.

The glint in her eye made me realize she was serious. "It’s the way here, and we'd best adapt to it, my dear. Take your time, then go off and have some fun, and come to me when you're ready."

I was taken aback by my long-time lovers sudden lack of jealousy. But it was also an incredible relief. I'd always been a 'player', at least until Sue and I 'teamed'. Now that pressure was gone, and I was totally relieved. In fact, I'd already been considering some 'diversion', since I'd noticed after our arrival that I seemed to be more capable of prolonged sexual activity. Sue had already commented on how satisfying our lovemaking had been recently, sometimes lasting half the night. And I found myself capable of at least twice a day for a long romp and a quickie once or twice more.

Now, suddenly, Sue was willingly suggesting that I expand my conquest list. She even seemed happy about it. So I picked a woman off the dance stage and we were directed to a private room. She was very eager to please me and we were not in a hurry.

Well, I decided, if these Zetans wanted me to be fit and healthy, what better way to augment my exercise program. This place became a regular part of my 'routine' as well. I liked to call it the 'Sexercise' facility.

We still occasionally saw, and could keep track of our flight group, sort of. One of the women, Barbara, had not been interested in men on the flight, or in rooming with someone. Instead, she had seemed more interested in Sue, but Sue never gave her any encouragement. The few times I saw her during the next three weeks, Barb was very quiet and sullen. She was having nothing to do with men sexually, that was obvious, and she definitely did not want babies. Then she was absent for several days, and when we saw her again, we were all amazed at the spectacular changes in her attitude and appearance when she strutted (that's the right word) into the cafeteria. Her skin-tight jumpsuit almost covered her breasts and outlined her crotch. She wore makeup when she never had before, and was moving through the tables like liquid fire. As Barb approached I looked around quickly and realized I was the only man in the room.

"May I join you:' she purred. She looked me square in the eyes as she licked her ruby lips, then managed to swivel everything while sitting beside me. Every move showed desire, even need, and not just availability. When I suggested a visit to my room she pushed the rest of my lunch aside and grabbed my arm. For someone who had never been remotely interested, it was a wonderful romp. The next day I saw her with one of the other guys and asked Nancy about the obvious change in Barbara's conduct.

"The key to high birth rate," she responded, "is having all women who are capable of child bearing wanting sex and children. Barbara probably got a mind plant, along with some critical hormonal and other chemical treatments to…uh, improve her attitude and help her reach her full potential. She will be pregnant soon, if she can be. That's what is done to the standoff types and the lesbians. For them it's forced right away. You can ignore her if you want."

"But that seems so cruel," I complained, despite having not ignored her, as Nancy suggested.

"She had her chance to choose her boyfriends. She failed to accept anyone, even after the social priorities of our world were thoroughly explained to her. All arriving women are immediately conditioned to eliminate objections to sharing their men, but that did not work on her. Now she has been treated so she'll be in constant heat until she conceives. And after that child, she better be more cooperative or she'll be treated again."

I was truly surprised at the lengths to which these people would go to increase their birth rate of Zeta IV. But that was only a minor introduction to what came later.

Within a few days my routine was well established: training, evaluations, exercise, and sex, with much emphasis on the latter. I asked myself how long this could last and how long I could keep up the pace, but it was hardly worth worrying about. I was young and male in a fantasy world of pleasure, despite the tests and regimen.

After about two months in the Center, we began learning about the various types of work available on Zeta IV. The farming and construction segments were much larger than I had expected. These were needed to support the rapidly expanding population. I'm not very good with statistics, but the birth rate was phenomenal, which was to be expected under the circumstances. While government was fairly extensive, the arts and communications were limited.

One day, Sue returned from one of our many routine physicals, greeted me with one of her patented self-satisfied smiles, and promptly announced, "I'm pregnant."

My jaw dropped a foot, but I managed to sputter, "…uh, wow, congratulations!"

"Thanks ever so much, Ray, my love," she gushed uncharacteristically. "Its ours."

I was flabbergasted, and too numb to respond further. ME, a father!

The prospect was overwhelming, as she held my hand to her smooth belly. "This is so wonderful, isn't it?"

With a mute nod, I realized that I had ignored the obvious: Sue had been conditioned along with all the other women. Before, she had always insisted that she would never be 'enslaved' by her plumbing, and had even taken treatments to suppress ovulation. She hadn't even had menses in all the time we'd been together. Now, suddenly, she's gushing about motherhood! This wasn't the Sue I'd known.

And it got better (or worse, depending on the interpretation).

That same afternoon at the 'Sexercise' center, Alice, one of my regular 'consorts,' also proclaimed herself with child!

Over the next few days other men from my 'flight' were showing up with big smiles to announce the pregnancy of their girl friends, too. We were rapidly becoming a very prolifically potent group. Even some of the women from the nearby exercise areas who had 'seen' several of us were pregnant. Before long, the thirteen men from our group were averaging better than one 'announcement' per day.

As our second month ended our routine of frequent sex was changed only with regard to the ladies we were seeing. As each pregnancy was verified the prospective women would cease their routines at the facilities, but the numbers there never seemed to diminish. Those expectant mothers who didn't have a permanent arrangement with one of the men, were moved into a special wing of our 'dorm' where we could still easily stay in touch, including Nancy, yet another on MY 'tally' sheet.

When our 125th day on Zeta IV arrived, every man was nervous. It was the last entry on our Indoctrination schedules, circled in bold red bands and marked SPECIAL EVENT. We were expecting to receive our permanent residence and career assignments along with work location information, etc. Despite the advantages of our stay so far, we were generally anxious to receive residency status and take our places in Zetan society.

Sue was gone before I rose, so for the first time since our arrival, I went to breakfast alone. Oddly, there were no women there, only us thirteen men. We ate mostly in nervous silence, but the situation was too unusual to ignore.

Suddenly the doors burst open and a large group of very familiar females rushed us. We were separated and each of us was escorted to a different area of the complex. Sue and Nancy flanked me, each firmly grasping my arms, as we rushed through empty corridors.

I was thoroughly lost when we entered a small chamber that contained only an overstuffed chair, and a vid screen above a large mirror on the wall facing the chair. The floor was thinly carpeted and appeared well used.

Nancy sat me in the big chair, which turned out to be quite comfortable. Then she reached behind the chair and there was a clank of servos as a silver mesh hood-like contraption extended from behind a panel in the wall, trailing a massive bundle of cables behind it. With increasing nervousness, I watched the silvery helmet move into position above my head. She did something else and there was a low whirring sound as the chair stretched out, bringing my feet up. Meanwhile, Sue was clamping my wrists to the armrests with wide leather straps, then both ankles.

As I calmly watched her shackle me, it seemed strange that I was not agitated enough to complain. But I just couldn't seem to get worried or concerned, as she pulled the helmet down onto my head and secured the chinstrap.

Nancy reached behind me and produced a small cutter. (Now that got me worried!) Turning to me with a slight smile, she systematically deprived me of my clothes. In seconds a pile of mangled rags that had been my favorite blue jumpsuit had been deposited on the floor.

When I was completely naked I finally got nervous enough to begin straining at my bonds, with no effect, of course. I could still raise my hips, but didn't dare move too much while that cutter was so close.

"Relax, my love," Nancy insisted, firmly holding me back into the chair while Sue secured yet another wide strap across my waist.

Now I really couldn't move.

"We love you," they proclaimed almost together, and proved it with long sweet lingering kisses.

Then they abruptly turned and left, the door sealing between us.

"Greetings, Gentlemen!"

I jumped at the unexpected sound of a distinctively male voice that sounded vaguely familiar. My mind seemed clearer as the vidscreen above the mirror flared to life, revealing that same man-image that had originally greeted us.

"I'm sure that you have enjoyed these past months with us. We have been particularly gratified by your enthusiastic support of our unique social system. In fact, your exceptional successes have insured substantial advances toward our population. Our congratulations and gratitude go out to each of you.

"Now it is time for you to make an even greater contribution to the advancement of Zeta IV. When you leave this chamber today you will assume a more meaningful role in Zetan society, one of greater honor and fulfillment than you could ever have hoped for elsewhere. From this day forward you will join the rest of us in contributing to the society that we all serve."

'Good,' I thought. 'Now I'll finally get into the system. OK, fella, what will I be? Farmer? Mechanic? Bureaucrat? WHAT?'

The mystery man continued. "Gentlemen, our need to rapidly expand our population is seriously hampered by the two most common means of growth, reproduction and immigration, both of which are untenably slow and hard to control.

"Of course, reproduction is limited by the slow workings of nature, since a woman can reproduce only about once per year. This makes pregnancy and weaning a lengthy process, which we have been unable to successfully accelerate. Conversely, a potent man can impregnate many women in that same year's time. Given these undeniable facts, our society has been structured to maximize the results. The ideal male-to-female ratio for achieving our population goal has been established, and each male citizen is allowed to support and breed with as many women as is economically feasible, until he achieves that ratio within his household.

"Immigration is restricted to the undesirables and non-violent criminals whom The System sees fit to provide. While the numbers are significant, the gender ratio is absolutely the reverse of our needs, as was your group, Gentlemen."

"Consequently, each newly arrived male is given a limited indoctrination, along with a reasonable amount of time for conditioning, and extensive opportunities to sire children, which you each have done. However, Zeta IV still has a respectable number of established males who are still building their households.

"Which brings us to your current circumstance. Despite the restrictions of nature that we've discussed already, medical science is constantly making phenomenal advances. And since penal institutions have traditionally been venues for human studies, Zeta IV has become perfect laboratory. Thus, we are the beneficiaries of some spectacular processes, and their results.

"You have demonstrated your willingness to participate in our system. Now, you will join Zetan society in the only situation available to immigrants of either gender. You are being given the further opportunity to become a MOTHER. That's right, Gentlemen, you will rest soon, and when you awake you will be FEMALE!"

I felt myself rapidly going into psychic shock. Even though my mind saw the logic of his words, my maleness was desperately seeking escape. I screamed uncontrollably, savagely jerking my arms and legs, straining at my bonds. My ankles and wrists were soon torn and bleeding.

The image remained silent for several minutes, obviously allowing us to react to his announcement. "Your reactions are typical, Gentlemen, but entirely futile. Besides, you have no choice. You are hardly the first, nor will you be the last subjects of this process. You will soon be a female. You are convicted felons, so consider this your punishment, if you must. In time, however, you will know otherwise.

"During your indoctrination period our expert medical technicians developed a genetic profile of the woman you would have become had you been born female. Using a means that will never be revealed to you, your body will be reconstructed to match your own individualized female genetic profile.

"To repeat what you were told when you arrived, you will merge smoothly into Zetan society, no matter what. If you adapt voluntarily, and have sufficient talent and desire, the rewards are great. Eventually, you could even petition for restoration male gender restoring your maleness, but only after a minimum of five years, and bearing at least two healthy children. So there is a chance, though, only about one in twenty ever bother.

"You will leave this facility with the status of Zetan citizen, with a clean slate. But be warned -- any violation of our laws and customs by either sex earns the perpetrator a lifetime of pregnancies and wet-nursing. They are forever prisoners of their ultra-feminine bodies, hormones, and female plumbing, while always completely aware of whom they were, what they are, and what they will always be. So, gentlemen, law-abiding behavior is in your own best interest, wouldn't you agree?"

My increasing state of shock at this presentation was enough to leave me frozen in my shackles, unmoving and silent, my brain spinning until I was numb.

"What you might do now, gentlemen, is take one last look at yourself. When next you observe similar anatomy, its owner will probably be as eager to use it on you as you have used yours since your arrival." The vid image smiled broadly. "Good luck, ladies! Enjoy the new you!"

The screen blanked out.

The sudden change of pronouns was calculated to get a response and I reacted despite myself. I involuntarily stared down and watched my pecker stiffen. 'Jeez,' I thought, 'what a time for that to happen! I can't lose that now! It's been too much fun lately.' But I still could not manage to struggle or yell as I realized the lights were dimming.

No! I was fading out.

I lay in the chair, eyes closed, yet dimly aware of my surroundings and myself. A low motorized humming sound filled my ears and a mild vibration ran the length of the chair beneath my body. I realized that I was incredibly aware of my bodily functions, my senses were incredibly intense. I felt my anatomy moving, shifting. My scalp itched and something was tugging on my hair under that silver hood. A pressure was squeezing my waist and sides. The chair arms seemed to slide beneath my arms, as did the back against my shoulders. There was a sharp twinge up my spine and neck, then across my skull. Pressure against my stomach. An expanding feeling in my hips, buttocks and thighs was followed by a tingle in my manhood and crotch that became a definite pressure up between my legs. Then, there was a needle-like sharpness centered in my nipples, then it felt like they were being pushed outward by a sense of bloating that left a fleshy weight on my chest. This was followed by twitching spasms in my fingers, hands, elbows, knees, and feet.

Then, for a while, everything seemed to float.

Full consciousness slowly returned.

As I came awake, a raspy breathing filled my ears, my own. The straps still secured my wrists, ankles, and waist, but the helmet was gone and I was positioned differently. The chair had been raised to a semi-reclining position.

I was facing a nude woman, held in her seat at similar bindings, legs slightly apart. Thick brunette tresses flowed profusely over her shoulders, halfway to her waist. Her smooth curvaceous hourglass figure was perfect, with large firm breasts, narrow waist, wide hips and long straight legs. She was beautiful!

She gazed glassily at me as I stared at her slightly exposed womanhood.

Oh, My God!

The hair tickled my shoulders and I knew with a dreadful erotic horror that she was my mirrored reflection. The face was mostly my own with a smooth creamy complexion, higher cheekbones, pencil-thin brows, fuller lips, and trimmed nose. The weight of those dense auburn curls pulled firmly at my scalp. A quick headshake tossed the long waves across my shoulders and brushed the sensitive new flesh and tips of the mountainous flesh that now adorned my chest. Errant strands caught in my lashes and mouth too.

From my angle, those quivering masses of sensitive doughy flesh were gigantic, and they were definitely heavy. The nipples were thimble-sized in the center of large dark areola, the fleshy masses pulled heavily against my ribs. With my wrists still secured, it pulled my arms straight out, which pushed those twin towers into a cavernous cleavage that was hard to see past.

Relating the image's exposed posture to my own, however unfamiliar, I tried to close my legs, but with little effect. Then I thought, who would see? Curios, I spread my knees to get a better look. My movements jostled my breasts a bit, but it wasn't particularly uncomfortable, maybe even almost erotic.

I was just beginning to make a genuine effort at dealing with the indisputable fact that I was that woman when I heard a click indicating that someone was at the door.

To my dismay, Nancy and Sue had returned, and resumed their previous positions at either side of me. I was appalled and incredibly embarrassed as their gazes raked over my new contours. I envied them their clothing, while I lay/sat there with all that smooth bulbous flesh exposed.

"Good afternoon, dear," they said in unison. Then each of them leaned forward and kissed me deeply. They seemed no less passionate, but it seemed different. Then I realized that the fleshiness of my new lips was the reason.

"No screams or curses?" Nancy asked.

I shook my head mutely.

"That's good. You'll be living with that gorgeous new body, so its best that you accept it." She kissed me again.

I suppose I could have spoken, but nothing I had to say would have made any difference. I just did not want to talk just then for fear I would have just screamed hysterically and made a genuine ass of myself. Since I knew that would do little or no good, I just kept quiet, waiting, in mild shock I'm sure.

"Time to find out how this all feels," Sue smiled while firmly grasping the nearest of my corpulent breasts.

I looked down in amazement at the sense of touch so distant from my chest, yet incredibly acute and real. I glanced at the mirror to see what was happening, then just close my eyes and felt! She kneaded gently at the soft sensitive flesh; then Nancy did the same to the other orb. I might have asked them to stop, but I'd barely separated my lips when Nancy leaned over and cut off my protest by stuffing my mouth with her tongue. As the kiss and manipulations continued, I could feel my nipples stiffen into twin spokes of throbbing excitement. Tingly warmth radiated through both breasts then down through my lower belly until it hit my groin with a blast. I pushed toward them. I couldn't help myself. A feathery touch on my lower belly made me to buck spasmodically. The caress moved lower, down the inside of my thigh, then back and down the other side.

"Oh, God girls! What are you trying to do to me?" I gasped when Nancy broke the kiss. The high alto softness that my throat produced was yet another shocking proof of what I'd become. They had changed that, too, of course. I could feel my hips moving but I had no control. As the hand brushed up my thigh, my hips pushed up to make contact.

"We want you to know what you have," Sue whispered. "Want something?" she asked as my hips came up again.

"Stop teasing me," my feminized voice pleaded. "Please, this is cruel."

Sue grinned. "I can remember you making me beg on more than one occasion, dear." She pinched a turgid nipple, making me shudder with excitement.

"Oh, God," I squirmed. "Do you want me to beg?"

Neither answered. Sue kissed me, sliding her hand up, finally making full contact with my new womanhood. Two fingers probed gently then slipped inside while the thumb slid along the gash to my new clit. A little massage was all I needed to finally achieve the orgasm of my dreams, total and all consuming.

When I came back down, the mirror told the story. Oh, woman! You have no control!

The girls gave me a few moments to rest, but I still felt like an over-used rag when they finally released the straps. Helping me up onto shaky legs, they wrapped me in a filmy pink robe that didn't really cover much. My bare feet were thrust into a pair of pink high-heeled open-toed slippers that seemed even smaller than the feet they housed. Whatever had generated these unbelievably radical changes in my body had been very thorough.

I was dumbfounded, limp and weak, unable to move on my own, my strength drained away. Exhausted, unable to resist, Sue and Nancy held my arms and gently but firmly guided me toward the door on my wobbly unstable legs.

"We'll take you to your new quarters," Sue said.

Nancy added, "Tomorrow you will start the formal education that will help you be a Zetan woman. You'll soon get a job assignment, and opportunities to meet some men. You have much to learn, you know."

'No kidding,' I thought. 'That's the understatement of the century!' While repulsed by the prospects of dealing with men in my new incarnation, the sudden flash of my future made me tingle again. How unsettling!

Meanwhile, my feet were trying to tip sideways atop those high-heeled slippers. Without the stability of my escorts' secure grips, I would have sprained or even broken both ankles when I stepped wrong and a needlepointed heel slipped.

Even more unnerving was the constant jostling of my unfettered breasts with every step as we made our way yet again through long passageways. Then there was the distraction of the robes flimsy material rubbing against my bouncing nipples.

I tried to ignore those awkward but erogenous sensations by focussing on remaining upright without help while navigating in those damnable heels. It took concentration at first, but despite the bounding distractions below my chin, walking became easier when I realized that my new anatomy required wholesale changes in my posture and gait. Most obvious was the lowered center of gravity, with expansive hips that swayed so much it felt like there was a pivot point just below my navel. The vacancy between my legs and my thickened thighs added yet another dimension to the design of my walk. This new configuration forced me to maintain balance by placing each foot almost directly in front of the other. A much shorter step was also needed, even though that mirror had shown my legs to be incredibly long and shapely.

Then add heels that seemed to be trying to snap my ankles until I learned that system too. Yet is it was deceptively simple. The toe had to touch first, which was totally opposite to my old male stride), so my diminutive foot was always slightly arched to adjust for the heel height, a bit like a ballerina. The ankle was also held straight so the tiny spiked heel would come down squarely.

Sue and Nancy had gradually removed their support as I got all this figured out, and could finally walk without too much wobbling. But my satisfaction was scuttled by mortification when we rounded a corner and I noticed my undeniable reflection in a polished metal door. I was the only one in heels, and was prancing along in a short mincing motion that was making my anatomy swivel and bounce all too sensuously.

I was also regaining some of my energy, though it was all too obvious that most of my physical strength had been sacrificed to the process that produced my new form.

That's when I discovered that the alterations engineered upon my person were far more thorough than I had ever imagined, though the clues had been there. I realized that I was looking slightly up into Nancy's eyes, when before at 5'6" she had barely reached the shoulders of my 6'4". And I was generally smaller than her though slightly taller and more filled out than diminutive Sue's 5'2". After making some quick comparisons, it appeared I been divested of over 9 inches, along with a whopping 50 pounds.

Wearing nothing but the robe, it was impossible to ignore the undulations of my altered anatomy. Each footfall caused my massive breasts to bounce like thick gelatin, tugging against my chest and swaying provocatively. The sensation was uncomfortably alien yet vaguely erotic. With ponderous mammaries pulling at my chest and my legs unimpeded by genitals, I was continually reminded that I was undeniably female. All those strange sensations were forcing me to try to deal with the fact that the Zetans had transexed my handsome and virile manhood into a substantially endowed woman and probably fully functional woman of childbearing age!!

Sue interrupted my drowning thoughts. "What name do you like, dear? Ray doesn't seem very appropriate for you now with that body."

"Uh…," I stammered. "I don't know. A different name never occurred to me. I thought I'd always have my male body. God! Now, along with all this I have to decide on a girl's name." The soft lilting tone of my own voice was another reminder of my condition.

"Well, we won't rush you," Nancy said. "But if you haven't decided by tomorrow morning, we'll pick a name for you. You will need it before you start learning how care for and maintain that beautiful new body of yours. It requires special and very careful maintenance if you're to attract a mate and to keep in good breeding condition that's expected of all us Zetan woman." She pointedly stroked her still trim belly.

By then we had exited that huge building, and entered an adjacent residential area. Surprisingly, there was no one about, but I was still highly embarrassed by my attire, or lack thereof.

Thankfully, we were soon approaching a small cottage, where Sue opened the door and gestured that I go inside. "This is your new residence, dear," Nancy declared.

It was tastefully decorated with lace curtains, flowery wallpaper, and comfortable furnishings. There was a tiny sitting room, a large full bathroom, and a huge bedroom with a single bed, a full-length mirror on one wall, and a walk-in wardrobe. The mirrored vanity's counter was cluttered with perfume and cosmetic bottles and jars and the closet and dresser were filled with feminine finery. The whole screamed that a very feminine woman lived here.

"There is no cooking in the ladies' residences," Nancy declared. "You will eat in the main dining room with the other women, along with the various men who join us on occasion, as you well know.

"Right now, Sue and I will help you get dressed."

"Now?" I exclaimed. "What will I wear? Besides, I can't wear women's clothes, regardless of what my body looks like. Anyway, everything goes on different and I don't know how to put them on." That high squeaky voice emanating from my own throat sounded so alien.

Sue chuckled. "You were always pretty good at taking them off of us," she teased. "But first you have to start with a bath. Come on, I'll help you while Nancy gets things ready here." She grabbed my hand and I was led toward the bathroom. While the large tub filled with steaming water, she added liberal doses of scented bath oil. Within moments the flimsy covering was pulled from my shoulders and the slippers from my feet, and I was goaded into the frothing aromatic tub.

I was always a dedicated shower person, and certainly never even considered taking a bubble bath in my life. But by the time I'd settled into that warm fragrant bath I was hooked. It felt wonderful, despite the ultra-feminine odor that I knew was permeating my skin. With a thick covering of suds, and the water buoying up my rather hefty breastworks, it almost made me feel like my old self. Except that water was flowing between my legs all too freely, and my new long hair was getting soaking wet.

Yet even with a huge sponge and perfumed soap nearby, I simply froze at the prospect of washing myself. It would have been tantamount to acknowledging my femaleness. Besides, I was terrified that it would feel even better than just lying there.

Meanwhile Sue had reached into the medicine cabinet and produced an epi-razor.

"What's that for?" I moaned. "I don't have to shave anymore!"

"Silly," she giggled. "Your face is smooth now, but you have other places that need to be cleaned up occasionally so you will look nice. Now, lift your arms. And your legs are next."

"But, I..." I was confused. I suppose I wanted to look nice, but I certainly hadn't considered anything like this. What was next? It was apparent that Sue and Nancy had planned all this for me. Their preparations were too smooth, too calm. Nancy certainly had known what my fate might be and Sue must have known almost from our arrival. 'Was that why she had been so quiet after the women had been taken off alone on that first day?' I wondered, then cringed when that highly efficient instrument hummed to life, knowing it was impossible to avoid.

Anyway, here I was now, sticking my arms and legs in the air to get them depilated smooth by a process that I knew all too well was guaranteed to last at least a month. (Sue had certainly used it often enough when we were together that I knew what that epi-shaver was capable of.) After she'd done my legs passed the knees, I had to stand for a moment while, to my utter embarrassing, she proceeded to strip away all but a tiny patch between my legs. The device slid gently across my skin, and its passing was barely noticeable even in the most sensitive areas of my newly flattened crotch, but the results were nothing short of incredible. Even the thickest bush (pits and crotch) simply vanished without a trace. I'd used a similar version of the apparatus for my beard, but never with these results. Only smooth unblemished skin was left in its wake, with not a sign of anything remotely resembling hair or even the slightest hint of stubble.

Nancy arrived when the shaving was almost complete, and together they helped me out of the warm bubbly tub, wrapping me in a large fluffy towel that they tucked together high above my breasts. It felt odd, and all too feminine. But I was also oddly surprised that they hadn't made me wash myself, or even my hair.

I was escorted into the bedroom and seated at the dressing table with my back to the mirror. Nancy proceeded to brush out my long flowing hair, and used a small pair of scissors to trim some damp frayed ends and the bangs. Sue's attention to my eyebrows was definitely the least pleasant of their activities though. The minor discomfort of getting my brows 'thinned' with common tweezers was more than enough to make my eyes water.

"Close your eyes," Sue ordered as she lightly covered my face with a pale foundation makeup. Then the painting really began: two tones of blue eye shadows, liberal coats of mascara on my lashes, black eye-liner, my plucked-thin brows were darkened too. Then came a rich scarlet lipstick and rose pink blusher highlighted my very high cheekbones.

By then Nancy finished messing with my hair, leaving the thick waves flowing smoothly over my shoulders and back. She asked me to stand and, as I did, pulled the towel from me. I stood there self-consciously naked with them both staring at me. Was that admiration in their eyes?

Nancy held up a tiny beige brassiere with lacy, slipped the straps up my slack arms. Sue adjusted the shoulder straps and clasped the back, while Nancy positioned the cups, which contained half of their voluminous contents and just barely covered those expanded nipples. The band was only snug, and stretched with my movements and breathing, but the emotional sense of its constricting presence was almost overwhelming. Unfortunately, the contraption flexed comfortably when my stressed breathing got deep and shallow. And I could actually feel my breasts pushing against the confinement of those bulbous cups. Yet this same feeling was strangely pleasant too, as the sudden containment and control of those previously unencumbered masses of wobbling flab offered a sense of incredible relief. Not to mention the smooth cups against my large breasts and super-sensitive nipples was a new feeling, and equally pleasant. There was an additional realization that the bra was all too effectively performing its designated function by pushing those already substantial twin towers up and together into massive dual promontories of molded but exposed flesh, and creating a lavish cleavage.

I stepped into the frilly beige bikini panties that Sue held and she slid the satiny material up my creamy smooth legs. They were high-cut, and hooked on my flared hips below my narrowed waist much higher than I'd ever worn anything before. But their most profound effect was the full contact of that thin fabric against my flattened crotch as a vivid reminder of my altered form.

Nancy produced a circle of translucent pink material and looped it over my head, then stuck my slim arms through it. Sue secured the back closure seam and the fabric pulled snugly into almost a second skin from bust to waist, then flared slightly over my hips into a simple skirt.

Dear God, I was wearing a dress!

Every movement caused the skirt to tickle my sensitive thighs when it brushed against my smooth bare skin, and the hem whispered just above my knees. Though the deeply scooped bodice made a valiant effort to actually cover the bra, its own snug fit tended to push even more flesh into view, resulting in even greater exposure of my breastworks to view.

Sue slipped my feet into shiny black medium-heel pumps that felt high, but not as bad as those slippers. Nancy selected a large bottle and I was liberally doused with the pungency of a very feminine perfume.

Finally, I was allowed to step in front of the full-length mirror. I gasped, dumbfounded at the image of 'the new me'. I was beautiful! The tight dress covered all the essential parts, but it was almost worse than being naked. Every voluptuous detail of my rounded form was sexily exposed. Even beneath bra and dress, 'her' fat brown nipples were outlined prominently. The makeup was perfect, highlighting the high cheekbones and big blue eyes. Soft waves of red-brown hair framed the face and flowed generously over her shoulders, strands brushing the copious bosom.

I got horny while staring dumbstruck at that mirror. The sensations pouring in from my own body even added to the warm glow that was rapidly building in my libido, as soft wispy textures caressed my smooth curves. My breasts seemed enormous, and felt like they stuck out so far they' enter a room two minutes before my nose would. But the nipples were suddenly hard knobs were rapidly becoming two engorged points of growing tension pressing against the encasing bra. My lower belly tingled and my crotch felt warm. Then, impossibly, I was getting a hardon! I knew that it must be my clit, and there was a totally alien sense of dampness just below and between my legs.

So that's what a woman feels when she's excited? Though there were differences, I certainly understand the emotions. But the physical sensations were utterly and infinitely more widespread and admittedly pretty fantastic! And I was getting this turned on just looking at my own reflection!

My 'friends' allowed me a few moments before they proposed that we adjourn to the dining room for supper.

"Uh, l..l..like this?" I stammered.

"Of course, silly," Nancy retorted. "You're gorgeous. Besides, aren't you hungry? You haven't eaten since breakfast and its dinnertime already. Your 'modifications' have consumed a whole day, so how about us consuming some healthy vittles!"

I suddenly realized I was famished.

So we went to supper together. After only a few minutes I was managing the heels easily, though the slightly lower heels helped my relearned manner of walking. You probably could have followed us simply by sniffing the cloud of fragrant mist I would have left in our wake. The sliding whispery swishing of the skirt was almost a sexual experience in itself. Also, while there was still a jostling tug with every footfall, the bra cups provided a security and control that made walking much more comfortable.

As we entered the cafeteria, I felt very self-conscious, expecting everyone to point and laugh at that crazy guy trying to look like a woman. Though my discomfort would certainly have been worse if there had been any men present, the looks of those women that I did intercepted were more calculating and assessing than I was used to. Once we had collected our meals and sat down, no one paid us any attention. Given all the women present, only an occasional whispered conversation or clink of silverware or dishes disturbed a peculiar silence that permeated the spacious hall with a melancholy gloom.

Then with a wince I noticed something else. At each occupied table there were either two or three women and, without exception, one was obviously very nervous, quiet and fidgety. Most of these women were not eating, and generally were acting like frightened rabbits. To help get over my own nervousness I revived my old predatory habit that I'd used when 'casing a mark' -- I watched some of those "nervous Nellies" more closely.

At the table next to us sat a tiny buxom redhead, head bowed, hands in her lap, silently staring at her plate with occasional quick glances about her. Occasionally she would take any irritable swipe at the long lush curls that tended to fall in her face. Her eyes were an odd shade of green. And I had some strange sense of discernment: Jason Dartol! He was, or had been, a heavy muscled Irishman from Old Earth, sentenced for beating a prostitute and various other anti-female behaviors. The self-appointed stud of our group, Jason fancied his 'tool' to be God's gift to women, said so often, and generally made himself obnoxious by attempting backup his blustering with action. Within days of our departure for Zeta IV, he tried, in rapid succession, to bed several of the gals in our group. It was rumored that, on several occasions, he had even resorted to force, though unsuccessfully. That's how we all learned the consequences for violating the rule forbidding sex of any kind while in-transit. We had begun calling him 'Greeny' just to antagonize him, knowing he couldn't retaliate. Eventually, he'd gotten so belligerent that the captain had to isolate him to keep someone from getting killed, not necessarily Jason, either. We'd never seen him again, not even after our arrival. Now, looking into those beautiful green eyes, I saw Jason's terrified soul looking out, or was it Jasonette now? Or Janette?

I immediately began searching the other faces, and found others who I unmistakably identified as fellow 'inductees.' The meal was delicious, as usual, but I consumed far less than I was accustomed to eating, though probably more that most of my 'colleagues'.

It was quite late when we returned to my new residence, and I was exhausted. With the ladies' urging me along by suggestions and directions instead of hands-on assistance, I eventually freed myself from the dress, and kicked off the shoes. It felt odd to finally be walking flat-footed. Still wearing the bra and panties, I was instructed on the need to scrub off the makeup before bed.

During my preparations they explained that I was scheduled to start a new series of courses the next day and they promised to be back early in the morning to help me prepare. The instructions would soon make me comfortable with dresses, hair care, makeup, and feminine hygiene.

Nancy was showing me how to use an elastic bandeau to hold the hair out of my face, while Sue produced a long transparent blue nylon nightgown with. "Lose the undies," she ordered. "This has built-in cups for support, and matching panties."

I'd noticed, but it was like wearing a transparent spider's web, it was so thin!

After they left, I lay awake, trying to come to terms with my female body, stroking each breast and fat brown nipple, slowly exploring the plumbing between my legs. God, it felt good. For a long time I lay thinking, wondering. What will it be like as a woman? Would I enjoy being 'with a man'? Could I do IT? What would it feel like having one of those inside me? Could I stand it? Would I like it? I thought again about how my body looked in that mirror, how I felt, and the ways my body reacted.

I'd known then that men would like what they saw and want it.

I awoke the next morning to the click of the door. True to their promise, Sue and Nancy were back to help me get ready for 'school.' Still half asleep, I went into the bathroom. The sheer negligee and nothing to aim woke me abruptly when I had to sit to pee. After washing my hands I splashed my face with cold water, trying to clear the sleep from my eyes and brain. The weight of my hair pulled at my scalp and fell about my face, breasts full and heavy, empty crotch, broad hips and pinched waist. God! It wasn't a dream! It really happened!

I stared at the soft image of my face in the vanity glass for several seconds, my mind again swimming through all the turmoil of yesterday's events. The numbness of the initial shock was slowly wearing off.

Sue came in, saw my terror and confusion, and took me into her arms. "Oh, baby, you really are having a hard time dealing with your new self, aren't you?"

"Good Lord, Sue!" I sobbed. "What did you expect? I come here to a prison that appears to be a man's erotic fantasy come true, and I've had it my own way since. Now, I'm part of the fantasy. Oh, dear God," I cried. "What do I do now?"

"What you do is survive," Nancy said firmly from the door. "I did."

I stared into her eyes in shock and disbelief, then to her slightly swollen belly where our child grew. "Damn, Nancy! Why didn't you tell me about this part of Zeta? Why did I have to learn about it THIS way?"

"You know the answer as well as I do, Ray," she answered. "This is, after all, a prison colony. We have, so far, done a very good job of hiding the details and methods of our rapid population growth. Besides, what would you have done if you had known beforehand that a sentence to Zeta IV meant you would become as you are now?" I tried to answer but was stopped short by the look of anger showing in her face, and the beet-red flush of her cheeks.

Sue slowly guided me unresisting to the bedroom where I sat at the dressing table while Nancy continued. "Most men, with only a few rare exceptions, would rather die than be female. I know, Ray. Remember too, that many native Zetan women were men once, myself included."

I stared in amazement at her beautiful face, then her rapidly swelling stomach.

She didn't seem to notice. "Like your group of prisoners, the vast majority of convicts sent here are men. Sue is one of the rare ones. So don't be feeling too sorry for yourself. Just keep reminding yourself that many of the women around you are just like you. OK?" I nodded sheepishly "Good. Now, let's get you ready."

"Wait, please," I Insisted. "Will you at least answer a couple of questions for me while you're in such a talkative mood."

Nancy grinned, her anger suddenly gone. "Sure, if I can. There's nothing to hide now since you're through the toughest part."

"Was that guy right? Can I get my male body back?"

"Absolutely, everything he told you is true. But, you recall, he also said you must bear at least two healthy children to qualify for The Reversal process. And the more children a person has the more likely 'her' petition is granted. The entire society is geared to our population's rapid expansion and the more you contribute to that goal the greater is your reward. If the reward you wish is to regain your manhood then you must do everything within your power to achieve it. I'm not saying it would be easy but it is certainly possible. I've known a couple of men who have come full circle, but most either remain female or ..." She stopped, leaving the last unspoken.

I understood instantly what happened to those men who were unable to cope with womanhood. But death or insanity would be a coward's way of dealing with a hopeless situation. I was no coward and I knew it. So I needed to adapt and endure. But it would mean dealing with my new womanhood. "How do they do it, this incredible transexing? Is it a machine, a drug, what?"

"I honestly don't know, but it dates back to about the Year 40 or 41, Zetan years, of course. There was a high-tech medical research team working on mechanical means of mind control. They came up with what they called 'truth machines', but before long they found that they could not only probe and alter brain patterns with their apparatus, they could alter the genetic code itself. Consequently they developed the Change Machine which the political bosses quickly took control of when they saw its potential for controlling the masses and maintaining their version of the status quo.

"The transformation is extremely rapid when you consider the weight loss or gain required. Not only do you change sex, but also size, structure, mass, and weight are all altered drastically, as well you know." She paused to catch a breath. "And did you notice how you relaxed once the hood was in place?"

I nodded slowly.

"Over the years they've perfected the process to a fine art. Anything else?"

"I guess not, for now. So what's next?" I asked them both.

"You've got to learn some of the basics as quickly as possible," Sue explained.

For the next hour they guided me through the mysterious territory of feminine grooming, helping but not doing things for me. With their numerous suggestions and assistance I brushed out my lush curls into a long lustrous mane. I had to try making up my face just as they had yesterday, but had to redo everything at least three times before they approved each step.

Then they helped me dress. The nude seamless pantyhose were tricky but they showed me how to roll them up then work them up while avoiding snags and 'runs' caused by my longish nails. The sheer material felt delicious against my legs. I stepped into white nylon panties then slipped my arms into a white demi-bra with satin-and-lace cups that again barely covered my nipples. I had to fasten the clasps myself and was surprised that I easily accomplished the maneuver, my arms reaching high up my back to attach the hooks. Sue selected what she called a conservative white dress. It was sleeveless with a V-shaped bodice that covered the bra but little else. Plenty of ivory flesh was out in the open (again). The material clung to every curve like it was painted on and the hem stopped high on my thigh. Next came five-inch ankle strap sandals that I worried over, but found them dressy and oddly comfortable, once my toes got used to supporting most of my weight, took shorter mincing steps, and added an even more exaggerated swung to my already gyrating hips.

Finally, I thought I was ready for the day's events.

"Oh dear, we almost forgot," Sue looked at me questioningly. "What about your name? You certainly can't be Ray anymore. Have you decided on one yet? Or do you want us to choose one for you?" She snickered. Nancy just grinned knowingly.

My mind raced. "Uh ... I don't know," I stammered. "I haven't thought much about that yet. I've been occupied with other matters."

"You realize, of course, that you're going to live with this name for quite a while, maybe for the rest of your life, so you'd better to pick one you like. Hmmm, let's see," she said thoughtfully. "I could pick a name like Ophelia pretty easy, or maybe Agnes." They both laughed. "How about it, darling. This is your last chance."

I had it! "I always liked Meghan, uh, with an 'h'. So l guess that would be ok," I offered grudgingly, before either of them could say anymore.

"Great! Now, Meghan with an 'h', off you go." Sue handed me a small carrying bag and flung the long strap of a purse over my shoulder. "The purse has a hairbrush, some cosmetic necessities, along with some of the old personal items from your wallet, pictures, money."

Nancy added, "The identification has been …uh… adjusted, of course. In the bag we've put some extra clothing and accessories that you'll need later."

The short walk to 'school' was pleasant and the clothes seemed more natural by the time we arrived. I was left in a comfortable meeting room with couches and stuffed chairs, seating for about fifteen people, generally arranged in a loose circle. Only two other 'women' were present so I selected a chair near the door. When sitting I swept the dress to avoid any bunching or wrinkling as the Ladies had shown me, then demurely crossed my legs and spread my skirt over my thighs, though it hardly came within six inches of my smooth stocking-clad knee. The position was so incredibly natural that I couldn't help but be amazed how comfortable it felt without a fist full of plumbing in the way.

Within a few minutes of my arrival almost every seat was taken, many by women I had seen at dinner in the cafeteria that previous evening. All wore revealing attire similar to mine. A few were obviously mortified by their appearance. I notice one who continually tugged at her ultra-miniskirt in a futile attempt to cover more of her plump exposed thighs, then tug at the low-cut bodice to prevent over-exposure of her copious bosom. Her discomfort and frustration with this vicious cycle was obvious. Her antics could even been have comical performance, were it not for the fact that only my steal nerves and training preventing me from doing the same!

Many of the arrivals bore a striking resemblance to their former male selves. I think I identified all my former 'flight,' including Jason 'Greeny' Dartol. Though I'd already 'read' him/her (those pronouns were getting very confusing) the previous night. And her appearance stirred a whole new feeling in me form 'Greeny', one of pity. She had been poured into a yellow vinyl micro-mini and matching yellow stiletto pumps. Her hair was teased into a halo of burnished red-gold that frizzed wider than her narrow shoulders, and brushed her plump ass. But the worst was her top. Her enormous breasts were easily larger than her head and entirely out of proportion to her body size, which was as petite as he had been huge. The thing across her chest was probably a tank top, but could better be described as a white narrow band stretched tautly across those mammoth globes, and forcing their masses to bulge exposed both above and below its negligible concealment.

I realized as I watched each new jittery arrival, I was forced to realize that I was one of them: beautiful, voluptuous, and totally lost in the unfamiliar and bewildering world of femininity. This was made abundantly clear each time I glanced down to tug on my own hem that insisted on sliding up my crossed thighs, only to find my view blocked by my own considerable shelf of brandished mammary flesh. Or by the bloated feeling of my ass cheeks occupying the entire seat, but there was plenty of room between the armrest and my crimped my waist. Or the flat unobstructed fleshiness that sat flush against the seat between my legs, with nothing there to impede the all-to-easy crossing of my fleshy thighs.

After the last arrival, we must have sat there twitching and generally feeling and acting ridiculous for almost half an hour. The fear and confusion was so thick it clogged our throats into anxious silence. No one spoke.

Finally two women of indeterminate age arrived and took the last seats. They seemed to be in charge. One repeated, verbatim, the speeches we had already heard, at our arrival and in the ironically but appropriately named 'Changing Rooms.' Then class content and procedures were explained.

"You will learn every facet of a Zetan woman's life," one summarized. "Makeup and skin care, grooming and hair styling, sewing and cooking, even dance lessons, will be a part of your busy agendas. In addition you will learn proper feminine etiquette and, most important of all, when and how to 'socialize' with men."

"To that end," the other continued, "you will learn female hygiene and the workings of your new bodies. Of course, you probably still remember how a man may be pleased, and since you are all grown adults you will be spared any sex education in that regard. However, you will also be instructed on the most successful methods for achieving pregnancy, breastfeeding, childcare, and rearing.

"We have already repeated the reasons for your presence here, so it should not surprise you that birth control of ANY sort is outlawed on Zeta IV. None of the common forms exist here, and are, in fact, non-existent. In addition, abortion is our most heinous crime, the punishment for which you would not wish crime upon your worst enemy."

That pronouncement was allowed to settle into our numbed brains for a moment. There were a few gasps and a whimper or two. The prospects certainly were not easy to contemplate.

"Your cooking and dance instructions will be small groups, but most instruction will be on a much more personal one-to-one level. Makeup and hair styling techniques will be individually tailored to each of your needs, and will take place at your own residences. All of your needs will be provided for throughout this period, including accommodations, meals, your entire wardrobe, cosmetics, toiletries, all instructions, ….everything."

"You will, of course, receive free and unlimited medical care for the duration of your ..uh… current situation."

"Beginning immediately, you will each participate in a rigorous diet and conditioning program that has been individually designed to maximize your beauty and reproductive potential."

One of the women reached down and opened that bag beside the chair of the 'new woman' nearest her. We'd all brought similar totes. "Your conditioning programs will begin now. These bags contain your exercising apparel and accessories. Please adjourn into the dressing rooms," she pointed to a large double door behind her, "and begin preparing for your first conditioning sessions."

There was a lot of awkward shuffling and tugging of skirts, but we all eventually managed to collect ourselves, along with our bags and purses. Slowly and with considerable hesitation, there was the distinct click of high-heeled pumps as we were herded toward our vastly altered futures.

The tights weren't too bad, almost like pantyhose, but thicker, and definitely hotter. But that damned exercise tunic was like somebody's version of a straightjacket from hell. For those small areas that it actually did cover, it was the tightest thing I'd ever worn. And you couldn't wear underwear because it was too absorbent, and 'your skin must breath'. The damned snap crotch dug into my new pudenda and outlined it like a naked drawing. It was so high-cut on my hips, almost past the already high-waisted leotards, that my hips stuck out like a grotesque pear. And the thin but incredibly strong fabric stretched so tight across my boobs they were squashed upwards into globes that my chin met every time I did squats or sit-ups, or even raised my arms.

Then there were the exercises.

There had been a few hints of a new dexterity, and I soon found this new redesigned body of mine to be incredibly lithe and flexible. Of course, the lack of plumbing, and shift in center of gravity, where certainly part if it, but the new capabilities of my anatomy were still awesome, despite the obviously substantial loss of muscle mass and strength. The first time I did a perfect split on the exercise mat, I almost screamed at the anticipation of excruciating pain that never hit. When I realized that my legs were in a perfectly straight line with my crotch flat to the pad, and no pain except stretching muscles, it was an incredibly fulfilling experience and a big relief too.

The various instructors, including Nancy and Sue, all women of course, made much of it fun, but it was physically and mentally demanding, too.

Eventually, after being tutored in the basics needed which to maintain ourselves and live as women, the individual attention was removed, and we were left on our own to continue our 'education'. In three weeks most of us we were cooking fairly well, looking great, feeling fit, and much more comfortable with our new hills and valleys. Some of it was even fun.

The major surprise came when Nancy, who turned out to be one of the full-time instructors of 'newbies', informed us that the male supervisory staff had been closely monitoring our training from the beginning, and some had taken personal interest to the extent of 'private' observations. There were self-conscious giggles and blushes of embarrassment, but we were generally gratified as well. As a group, I think we all knew we were adjusting and performing quite well.

Exactly one month after my transformation (I checked the calendar) I had my first period. Jeez, what a shock! I hated the mess and the discomfort, but I knew it was either that or pregnancy, and I definitely wasn't ready to deal with THAT. Certainly not so soon, anyway! A few others had already gone through it, so I knew it was inevitable, but that didn't make it any easier. Anyway, I endured the ghastly affair. It did have one advantage though in that for a few days I was excused from the strenuous group aerobics sessions that we all were required endure, though I had to maintain my conditioning at home alone.

Since our 'training' was geared somewhat to each 'recruits' own progress we completed the curriculum at different times. I 'graduated' about in the middle of the pack, after two months of intensive 'study', practice, and 'conditioning'.

At last, I felt almost ready to function in Zetan society, though maybe not as comfortably as I might have hoped. But I definitely resolved to take the final plunge into womanhood and eventual motherhood very very slowly. Of course, with a voluptuous female body readily available, I thoroughly explored the delights of feminine masturbation. The incredible power and longevity of female orgasms was extraordinary, especially the multiple variety. Still, sex with a man was probably inevitable, and would almost certainly have to be confronted much sooner than I wished. That step would my toughest challenge and I did not feel the least bit prepared for that ultimate capitulation.

I was immediately transferred to a smaller but comfortable apartment in the residential dormitories of Zahkar Towers. To my delight, Sue was just down the hall, and was working in District Administration, so we could easily stay in touch. The next day I got my career assignment, what I had been expecting the day I'd walked into that life-altering 'Changing Room'. I was assigned to a computer programmer position, supporting the Child Care Center near the Reception Center and spaceport.

From Sue I learned more about the Zeta IV social system. With over half of the population under the age of fifteen, and that segment doubling every sixteen years, their care and feeding were major concerns. Care Centers and community efforts were essential to keeping apace of the phenomenal birth rate. All was compounded by the fact that men accounted for only a small percentage of the whole, and most of those were under the age of twenty. Most heavy industry was automated, but some physically demanding jobs were still required, putting a special strain on the available men where women couldn't do the work. This meant that men who kept their gonads did not have it all that easy. Despite an enormous effort to automate labor, muscle power was still needed everywhere. Of necessity this made the existing child labor laws rather lenient, allowing anyone of any age to contribute wherever they were capable of contributing. Harvesting crops, light manufacturing, small industry and factories, the need was great everywhere.

"Our children," she explained, "will be raised here in this complex." The plural threw me for a few moments until I realized that I was expected to contribute children to the system from my own newly functional womb. Which meant intimate male contact, probably several at least! For an instant that notion quickened my breath and my lower belly tingled. But this wasn't anything like the appalling nausea I'd felt before. It couldn't possibly be so, but it almost felt like excitement! Naw, no way!

Sue interrupted my muse. "By the way, Meghan. You've been here several days now and you haven't been exercising, at least not that I've noticed. Didn't you know all unattached women who aren't pregnant are expected to use the Fitness Center for their hour-a-day's?"

"Yes, I know. But, . . . uh . . , well," I stuttered, remembering a similar center I'd visited so long ago. I'd been one of the 'pickers' then, and found Nancy there. "I don't think I'm ready to put myself on display yet, much less so publicly. Going to the FitFac means some man might pick me like I did Nancy. Frankly, that scares me silly. Every time I think about it I get all sweaty and cold. But I get tingly, too." I was suddenly in tears. I'd noticed a growing tendency toward sudden emotional eruptions, particularly fits of tearful sobbing fits, but mostly only when my period was imminent.

"Poor dear Meg." She stroked my hair and handed me a tissue. "You can't tell the difference between fear and arousal, can you?" I looked at her in shock. "You'll have to deal with it eventually, you know. Otherwise they'll just run you back through the clinic and you'll come out a docile breeder like Sharon did. Remember?" The memories rose unbidden of Sharon's 'dike' behavior in-transit and then her abrupt sensually shortly after OUT arrival.

Scary as this prospect was, the alternative was far worse. I resigned myself to the inevitable. "Yea, well, I guess I'll start tomorrow, ok?"

Sue smiled and nodded, stroking her rapidly enlarging belly. "And this is what you'll get out of it too, my dear."

I grinned nervously. But with my head nestled in her bosom and that slightly swollen womb so near, the idea wasn't quite as repulsive as it had been.

After work the next day, I showed up at the FitFac, found an open locker, tugged on my gear, and picked a unobtrusive spot near a rear corner. I pushed myself through a lackluster routine, but the music was spirited, and by the end I was almost comfortable. Afterward, I checked the posted schedule and signed up for one of the many instructed aerobics sessions. There were about twelve of us in the group I joined, and generally the same faces showed up about that time each day.

And, of course, there were the ever-present 'browsing' men, never more than a few at a time, but there was always at least one. And there was such a steady stream of them that I began to wonder if this was the only FitFac open.

Every day afterwards, without exception, several women, and not always the same ones, were approached by watching men. I took great pains to remain inconspicuous, and invariably breathed a sigh of relief every time I was passed ignored.

Then a curious thing happened. I knew I was as attractive as any of the other women, maybe even more some who were 'chosen'. Yet as the days passed and I was not approached, I found myself wondering if there was something wrong with me, even though I'd had deliberately trying to avoid their lusty stares by hiding at the back or in the corners. But it wasn't only those closest to the men's viewing area that were chosen either!

Often I'd stare at the image in my mirror that still surprised, even often and excited me. My exiled maleness still occupied a small part of my mind, and I could sense its natural lascivious eye drooling over my impressive voluptuousness. But now it simply wasn't enough to appease my rapidly growing curiosity and female libido.

I simply had to know that I could 'pass muster'. Forcefully subduing my fear of the potential consequences, I forced myself closer to a more 'vulnerable' area.

The next day I was appalled to see the tiny big-chested 'Greeny' on the arm of a rather plain but well-dressed gentlemen of apparent rank.

Three days later I was in front, putting as much energy and allure into my routine as I could muster. I was selfishly purposeful in my blatant attempts to draw the attention that I now seemed to be so desperate for.

As I left the showers, I saw a tall handsome man waiting, his eyes glued to me. He approached and was quick with the formalized greeting used in this situation. "Miss, may I have the pleasure of your company."

Now that the moment had arrived, along the attention wanted, so was the dread and uncertainty with a vengeance. Did I want the action?

After waiting only an instant for an answer, he moved forward until only inches separated us. It felt like an encroachment on my 'space', but then it wasn't either. Then his strong arm looped about my smallish waist and he pulled me into a firm embrace. When I looked up to object, his head was already descending, and our lips met in a light kiss. I breathed in the mild aroma of his cologne and tasted his lips. It felt awkward, but there was an urgent warmth building in my breasts and stomach.

He pulled back after a few seconds that lasted an eternity. "Relax," he said in a rich baritone, still holding me. "I won't bite, promise."

I had to smile at that.

"That's better." His fingers raked through my tousled mane. "You are quite beautiful, you know," he declared with those deep gray eyes that were moving closer.

This time my arms went up and around his neck. Moments later our mouths were old friends, tongues playing tag, bodies crushed together. Suddenly, everything we were doing seemed natural, my body pulsing with arousal, my breasts pressed against his firm warm chest. I'd become all too familiar with what this body needed when it was behaving this way, and it was not to be denied.

"Come on," he finally urged, taking my hand and heading for the nearby 'nests'. Every FitFac had several of these small well-appointed chambers which regularly put to the use for which they were designed.

Following the direction that my body's chemistry demanded, I meekly allowed him to lead me.

As the door closed, separating us from the world, he pulled me into his arms again. I released the canvas bag containing the soiled gear and shoes that I still carried. As the kiss deepened his large hands moved over my back, sides, and hips with surprisingly gentle strokes. I wrapped my arms about his neck securely, my flesh soaking up the warm energy that flowed from his fingers as they trailed across the fabric of my dress.

We finally came up for air and, as I looked into his strong warm face, he eased me onto the edge of the bed, sitting beside me, our thighs touching. As we kissed again I felt a light pressure against my right breast, cupping, stroking, gently squeezing. I flinched under his probing fingers.

"Relax, Meghan. You always gave your girl friends pleasure, didn't you?" he murmured in my ear.

I pushed his away, speaking for the first time since he'd confronted me. "Yes, but ... how did you know?" I breathlessly demanded.

"I've been keeping track of you since before your 'change day.' I know this will be your first time with a man." His voice softened. "Just relax and enjoy it."

"If you know so much about me then you also know I've had some real trouble even getting up nerve enough to go this far." I was almost sobbing.

"Well, we both know you're ready, Meg. And I am too."

The pure animal arousal that setting fire to my insides was demanding satisfaction and I knew where it was available. Yea, I admitted to myself, I'm ready, maybe not emotionally but certainly physically.

"But, I don't even know your name."

"Richard," he whispered. "Richard Tyler. You can call me Rich." He slipped strong fingers under the straps of my dress and slipped them from my shoulders. Then he reached behind me and released the bra, an item I'd learned the hard way was essential for a gal of my endowments. And their full firm majesty was revealed. His smiling admiration was complimentary, yet disconcerting, and I reached to cover myself.

He caught my wrists firmly. "Please don't. You're so beautiful."

To my utter astonishment, he leaned forward and kissed my right nipple, then sucked at it, nipping gently. One hand stroked my left breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers, while other fingers kneaded the tender flesh at the base of my spine. Slowly he pushed me backward onto the bed, his attentions never wavering from my engorged knobs. The electric charges that consumed my breasts were fueling a rapidly growing fire in my chest that was pushing into lower belly. I never felt his hand move but suddenly he was stroking the tender flesh inside of my thigh.

I moaned, my breath quickening.

He sat up and smiled down. "You won't need these for a while." He grasped this dress at my waist. "Raise your hips," he asked. I kicked off my shoes as he pulled it over my hips, then hooked my pantyhose and panties, and it all went down my legs. Suddenly a loose pile of clothing had collected at our feet, mine.

"Oh," I sighed. It seemed natural to try to cover my exposed breasts and crotch.

Richard simply smiled indulgently. "Now, ease over," he urged, moving me into the center of the bed. "And don't be so shy, at least not here, alone, with me. You're much too beautiful to hide."

Pulling my screening hands away from my extensive endowments, he removed his shoes, socks with the free hand. In seconds, a shirt, trousers and shorts were added to pile on the floor.

I had felt his arousal as we embraced, but now I saw him fully exhibited for the first time. I had seen plenty of boys and men in various situations, as any man would. Richard's organ was thick but not overly long, though maybe was slightly above average at about 8-9 inches (old Terran).

'Oh, God help me,' I thought briefly. 'Can I do this? Should I allow that inside me?'

Then, Richard slipped his arm beneath my head and leaned into another sumptuous kiss, his fingers threading through my hair as he pressed my face to his. My arms were about his neck again, enthusiastically returning his embrace. His other hand returned to my thighs as my whole body loosened. My breasts felt warm and swollen as they crushed against his chest. The coarse hairs tickled my fat brown nipples. My juices were flowing and my groin was ablaze with want. I felt his erection pressed against my bare hip as our naked bodies finally made full contact.

I couldn't help myself, my thighs parted willingly as his caressing fingers moved toward their apex. Then the hand was gone and he was moving over me. I felt the light touch of his penis as it slid over then up my thigh toward it goal. Never breaking our kiss, we maneuvered in this most ancient of dances. I spread my legs wider as the object approached, then touched the soft fleshy entryway. It touched lightly, as if asking permission, and I reached down to gently rake my nails across his tight ass, my own way of granting him permission to enter. And he did! His reaction pushed the shaft into me. The sensation of penetration was so incredibly alien, yet so vastly overwhelming! And it felt SO GOOD! His mouth muffled my shocked gasp when there was a brief instant of tearing pain. Lord! I never considered the fact that my body was virginal as well.

My lover lifted up, looking down on me with concerned eyes. "You're very very ready, my beautiful Meg."

"Oh, yes," I cried softly, wanting him to love me. "Do it!" I rubbed my hands over his well-muscled arms, crushed my lips to his, and held firmly to his tight bobbing buttocks. In every way possible, I enthusiastically accepted, yes, wanted everything he had to give. And he must have understood.

No man in his wildest imaginings can possibly conjure a particle of the sensations that a woman experiences when she is entered. My mind, my entire being, was centered in that tunnel of flesh, and its contents, that were suddenly the center of my universe. I perceived the exquisite texture of my lover burying himself to the hilt, penetrating deep into my body, filling an emptiness that I only then knew was there to be filled. I came almost immediately, the muscles in my belly twitching. And I discovered that my own 'love muscle' that surrounded his was a generous source of pleasure. A glow, unlike before, filled my body, and grew. Then he started to move.

My orgasms came in rapid succession, each more intense than the last, and soon I was screeching my pleasure as that shaft drove in and out. How long he continued I'll never know. Time simply had no meaning for me, except for the pace of his movement, and the ever increasingly lofty heights to which I was rising.

Eventually, his pumping quickened to an urgency that I recognized. Then he stopped suddenly, his engorged pole buried to the hilt within me. Then I felt its rhythmic muscular spasms against the sensitive walls of my cavity, and even thought I felt the eruptions splashing into my body.

He lay heavily atop me for several seconds afterwards, his breath quick and shallow. But the pause was only momentary. He picked up the rhythm again, but with somewhat less enthusiasm, and I could feel his erection shrinking rapidly. It was as if he didn't want it to end. Well, neither did I. The fantastic sensations within me continued but with waning strength, tempered by a quick mental calculation and the realization that our timing had been almost perfect. Parenthood was a distinct possibility!

Finally, he pulled out with a moist 'shlumph' and rolled off to lie beside me, his arm draped over my trim stomach. His fingers were absentmindedly stroked my tenderized breasts. I lay there, spread-eagled, panting and uncaring, enjoying the pleasant post-coital afterglow.

He propped up on an elbow and his lusting gaze traveled the length of my body and back, stopping only when our eyes met. "Meghan? How would you like to live with, me for a while?"

"Huh!? Uh ... I don't know Rich….Richard. I'm not used to this yet and your wanting me to live with you?"

"You enjoyed IT, didn't you? And I'll definitely want to help you enjoy it again."

"But all you have to do is meet me after exercises whenever you wish," I countered.

"That may be true, my dear, but I am rarely able to leave my office at the right time of day to catch you. It took several days of very long hours before I could even arrange to see you today. You see, I'm basically the authoritative and jealous type, and I'm in a position to make it stick. Besides, if things stayed as they are, I'd have to share you with any guy who took a fancy to your delicious body. I'm selfish too, you know." He grinned. "Please, I want you, and I don't want to share you. Strange as this may sound Meghan, I love you."

I knew that he did and that knowledge warmed my heart. It wasn't a particularly difficult choice anyway. Take a known that's offered, or wait for the unknown. "Well, alright." But when his eyes lit up, I had to let him down somewhat, "I'll think about it for a few days."

"Good!"

I was surprised to notice that his excitement was becoming evident. 'So soon?' I thought. "Talk to your girl friends. They'll tell you how nice it is to live with a man. I'll take care of you Meghan."

"You bet I'll talk to them Rich. Oh, by the way, dear," I teased, pointed and smiled. "I really don't know if I could manage that again so soon, even if you could." I was still short of breath.

"You could if you wanted to, you know," he teased back, smiling too. "The next time will be even better."

When I got back to my room Nancy was waiting. "Where have you been?" she demanded, but that knowing grin gave her away.

Her smile widened dramatically as I sheepishly explained, including the proposed living arrangement, then expanded to amazement when I mentioned Richard's name.

"Do you know who he is, Meg?"

I shook my head. Hell, I didn't know hardly anyone outside the Child Center.

"Why, Richard Tyler Is Chief Administrator, dear. He's Sue's boss, several times removed. He runs this whole complex from that fancy office of his atop Admin Towers. On any other world he'd be a governor or some such thing. Jeez, Meg, you really got a catch there! You'd be crazy to turn that guy down. Besides every gal should try living with a fella, especially if she likes him, and I assume you do like Richard ... uh ... Mr. Tyler."

She was right, I did like him, a lot. More than I was willing to really admit at the time.

"You see!" Nancy continued, on another track. "We said you'd like sex more with a man. And, I'll bet that by now those little wigglies are thrashing around in that hot oven of yours, racing to be the first to make you a mommy." She reached over and laid her hand against my abdomen as if to feel for the activity within.

My jaw dropped and I was blushing worse than in years. Unbidden, an incredibly clear vision appeared of exactly what she described: a mass 'wigglies' gyrating their corkscrew tails in a mad dash for one of my egg. Then there was an image of a bloated ungainly body, and the terrible agony of giving birth.

"Oh my God!" My hands joined Nancy's.

"So, you want to be a mother, do you?" she prodded. "Well, my dear Meg, It's not near as bad as most men think." She patted her own rotund belly. "And the feeling you get when your baby is suckling at your breast is almost as good as sex itself, only different. We women have the ultimate privilege of feeling life grow within us, bringing it into our world, then nurturing its helplessness and guaranteeing its continued life with sustenance from the milk of our bosom. It's the most exquisite experience of a woman's life. You'll love it.

With inhuman speed, Nancy collected Sue and briefed her on my escapade. Their laughter and girlish antics would have been comical if they had not been at my expense. And they both incessantly goaded me to be Richard's live-in.

To stop their nagging and hysterics, eventually agreed to move in with him. Though I had long since made the decision, almost from that very first romp with him. And suddenly and inexplicably, I was actually looking forward to domestic life and 'wifely duties', though marriage was non-existent on Zeta IV for obvious reasons.

The next day I called Richard's office and we arranged a meeting. His first words to me, after greeting me with a lingering kiss, was to ask me again.

"Yes, Richard, yes," I agreed. "I'll give it a try, but don't expect too much too soon. You'll need to be very patient with me."

"Oh, yes my lovely Meg, you can be sure that I will be very patient," he sighed in relief. "You've made me very happy, you know?"

I nodded and we kissed again, holding each other in a crushing embrace.

That same afternoon a squad of burly men arrived on orders to move my meager possessions, mostly clothes,. His apartment was bigger than some houses I had seen, spacious, tastefully decorated, with living and dining rooms, a well stocked wet bar, complete kitchen, huge master bedroom with adjoining bath, and a second bedroom. Surprisingly, there were no other 'companions' present of the female ilk.

I prepared dinner for us, then, afterwards, he encouraged me to change into one of my sexy outfits and lounge about during the early evening. It was, I knew, a foregone conclusion that the later hours would find me on my back in that king-sized master bed.

I showered first, then selected my favorite lavender negligee, the plunging neck and transparent material covered most of the vital areas but revealed it all to great effect. Richard loved It. My thoughts were a combination of embarrassment and excitement, knowing what I must be doing to him, and found myself moving more sensually. My internal temperature began to climb as well.

As it turned out, he was right, it was better that night than the first time. And the next night was even better yet.

I have been here for fourteen months now. Sue and Nancy have healthy babies, both girls, and are back in shape again. We worked at it for several worrisome months but, finally, my tummy is swelling noticeably. I am not sure I want to be a man again, even If I could. Last month Richard was promoted to District Manager, entitling him to a much larger residence with accommodations for himself and five 'live-ins.' He asked me to remain with him, and since our move would have separated our little trio, he invited Sue and Nancy to join our 'family'. For that, I love him even more now than ever.

And when, has his #1, he asked to approve their addition to our household, I said 'yes' so enthusiastically, despite the prospect of sharing him with other women. Yet our own opportunities for contact with other men will be extremely limited.

I still work, along with running Richard's household. Still, it's different than being a man, more fulfilling and responsible. I enjoy so many things now, and dressing provocatively for a candlelight dinner is really a trip!

A pleasant word, or better yet, his touch, and I am truly content.

And a new person stirs within me. Occasionally it gives me notice that it's growing fast and will soon be the absolute center of my universe.

*** I love my life! ***

since 2/19/06