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The Draft by Michelle Lurker (c) 1995 PART ONE The Turboway stopped abruptly, snapping Paul Mathhews out of his daze. Around the car the other passengers seemed unfazed, though slightly annoyed. This was becoming yet another one of the daily trials of living in the city... along with crime, pollution, and indifference, unscheduled stops of the Turboway were now commonplace. Paul looked out the window, but could see only darkness, and his own reflection. "Probably damn protesters again", mumbled a well dressed businessman in the seat next to Paul. Paul looked to the man, unsure if the comment was directly posed to him or if it was just meant for the whole car. Paul shrugged a 'what are you going to do?' shrug at the man and looked around absently. Finally, after about five minutes, an intercom broke the uneasy silence of the car. "TURBOWAY CAR 73 WILL RETURN TO STATION 54, DUE TO... UNFORSEEN COMPLICATIONS WITH THE TRACK AT STATION 55...", the cold mechanical voice uttered, "ALTERNATE TRANSPORTATION WILL BE PROVIDED AT THAT POINT. THAT IS ALL." The car erupted into a low chorus of grumbling and complaining, and Paul checked his watch. 0843. Great... he'd be late for school again. It seemed to Paul that apparently the School System didn't know, or care, about the problems with the Turboways. Nope, regardless of his excuse he'd be put on work detention. Again. Paul was thinking of how much he hated work detention when the car lurched back into motion, back towards the previous station. The man next to him sighed and rolled his eyes. "Damn protesters... should just take the whole lot and put the up against the wall...", he said, and Paul was sure that this time his comment was directed at no one in particular. As the car excellerated Paul looked out the window, at the rapidly passing darkness. He looked at his watch again, and sighed... * * * * * As he expected the Attendance Administrator didn't care that the Turboway had been the cause of his lateness, and Paul was given one day of work detention. He figured he had got off pretty easily, actually, considering the number of times he'd been late. Still, one day of work detention was more than enough to put him in a foul mood for the rest of the day. He made his way along to his first class, History. His teacher, Mr. Billings, seemed uninterested when Paul handed him the admittance card. Mr. Billings swept the card through the reader next to his terminal, checked to see that everything was okay, and looked to Paul for a moment. "Well... don't just stand there like an idiot, Matthews, sit down!" he said, with obvious dislike in his voice. Paul knew that Billings did not like him. You see, Mr. Billings was Head Coach of the football team at School System Centre #21, and didn't care for students that didn't fit his particular brand of "macho". Paul was nowhere near Billings ideal of a man... slim build, shorter than average, fair skinned. The teacher had made numerous allusions to Paul's shortcomings, both to him privately and in front of class. That had always been a source of embarrasment for Paul, and entertainment for the 'jocks' in the class. Mr. Billings returned to the lesson - yet more information on "The Reformation and It's Impact on Our Society - and Paul's mind drifted. This was definitely shaping out to be a horrible day. A horrible day, Paul thought, like so many others... * * * * * After school Paul had an uneventful Turboway ride home, and was greeted by his Mother when he opened the front door. "School called..." she said, obviously dismayed, "Another day of Work Detention? Your Father will be furious!" Paul shrugged absently, and looked away, "It was the damn Turboway..." "Paul... I don't care what your excuse is, and don't use language like that. The point is that you have another day of Work Detention..." his Mother continued. Paul shrugged again, frustrated. "Well... go to your room and wash up, your Father will be home soon and supper is almost ready." Paul carried his schoolbag upstairs to his room and washed up. When he was done slumped down onto his bed, deciding to watch the television until his Father got home rather than listen to his Mother complain even more. He clicked the screen on and turned to the News channel. A rock-jawed announcer began to spew out the days events... "Further developments in the Turboway Station #55 malfunction today... Police are blaming Protestors, who apparently hacked into the Turboway mainframe and shut the station down..." Gee, Paul thought, I wonder if the Attendance Administrator watches the News... "There should be no concern, however, as the Police Anti-Hacking Unit has traced the source of the illegal activity. In other stories, a major success for our forces in the Southwestern Continent War... an entire division of enemy forces were destroyed as..." The War. It had gone on as long as Paul could remember. If it wasn't the Southwestern Continent it was the Eastern Allianance, or the Central Continent... it didn't seem to matter. There was always a war, just as there was always crime, pollution, and, as it now seemed, there were always Turboway interruptions. He was almost drifting into sleep when he heard his Father come home. Through supper he absently listened to his Father's lectures on responsibility, on how _he_ had never done a day of work detention when _he_ was in school, on the Football trophies, on everything. When it finally ended Paul excused himself to his room. His Father mumbled something and nodded. As he closed his bedroom door Paul looked around his room, and sighed. Everything in life seemed to be going wrong. He looked at his desk, and his history lesson disc stared back at him. Printed on the disk was "The Reformation, Chapters 5-8". He moaned at the thought of homework - today had been crappy enough. He thought for a second, and threw his t-shirt over the disk. Why bother?, he thought, I'll be on Work Detention tommorow anyway. He layed down on his bed, and closed his eyes... * * * * * Paul was awakened by the loud buzzer of his alarm. He looked at the display... 0500. On a normal school day he wouldn't have to wake up until 0730, but the today Work Detention vehicle would be by to pick him up at 0530. He ambled out of bed, and quietly slipped down to the kitchen to have some breakfast. His parents were still sleeping when he shut the door behind him. The Work Detention vehicle soundlessly glided up in front of his house, and he walked to the rear entrance. He had been through this before, so he knew the routine. He swiped his ID card through the reader, and put his thumb down on the scanner. The Supervisor gruffly nodded that everything was okay, and handed him coveralls. He quickly slipped them over his clothing and took a seat. There were already six other boys aboard, and after him there would be one more to complete the unit at eight. The vehicle started again, and Paul closed his eyes, hoping that the day would end soon. As the vehicle stopped again, for the last boy, Paul looked to the rear door. His breath caught, and he shuddered. Well, I thought this day couldn't get any worse, he mused, but it just did. Getting into the vehicle was Tom Renalds, one of the jocks from Mr. Billings' football team. Tom had harassed Paul many times at school, once even giving him a black eye for no particular reason. After completing the sign-in routine and pulling on his coveralls Tom took the last seat - next to Paul. "Well, well, look who we have here... Ms. Matthews", he mumbled to Paul, who tried to ignore him, "I thought only boys were put on work detention... not cocksucking pussies like you..." As Tom chuckled to himself the Supervisor looked over. "Shut up," he said, "No talking allowed..." Tom gave a look to the Supervisor, but seeing his tazerstick he tought better of it. Instead, he turned his sneer to Paul, and wordlessly communicated his intentions... * * * * * The Work Detention crew eventually reached their destination, Turboway Station #23. They were told their assignment - cleaning of the Turboway shafts and passenger areas, and Paul figured that maybe it wouldn't be quite so bad. Sure, he'd get dirty, but he'd done much worse on Work Detention. The day was brightening slightly when he and Tom were paired as work partners. Tom had voiced protest at being paired with a 'weakling', but the Supervisor told him to shut up and do what he was told. Their first job was to take a long thick hose and wash out the northbound Turboway shaft. Turbos were scheduled around these cleaning periods, but Paul still didn't like the idea of going into those dark tunnels, espescially with Tom. They carried the heavy hose into the tunnel, Tom periodocally complaining to Paul to 'pick up the slack.' Finally they reached their destination, a few hundred metres into the tube, and Paul turned the hose on. They would normally take turns directing the hose and monitoring pressure, but Tom figured Paul didn't have the strength to hold the hose still. Fine, Paul thought, fuck you... As he washed down the walls, Tom began to talk. "Hey pussy, how come you like sucking cocks so much?" He laughed as Paul ignored him, but continued. "I guess you wish you were a chick, huh pussy? Then you could suck all the cocks in the world, and no one would care... and you could take big cocks into your hole and love it. You want to, don't you?" Paul ignored him. Tom finished cleaning the section and Paul turned the water off. Paul picked up the pressure unit and started to go. "Better get moving..." he said, nervously. Tom's hand grabbed his shoulder, and spun him around, pinning him against the Turboshaft wall. "Not so quick, pussy... don't you get all hot and horny being down here with a _real_ man? I bet you're thinking about sucking my cock right now, aren't you?" Paul started, "Tom, I think..." "Shut up!", warned Tom, "You think you'd like to suck my cock, right? So tonight when you put on your panties and pretty dress alone in your room you can feel like a _real_ woman..." "Tom, let's be sensible, there's work to do..." "Say it, pussy. Say you want to be a girl, so you can suck big cocks... SAY IT!" "Tom..." "Okay, if you can't say it, do it..." Tom was reaching into his coveralls, and Paul was terrified. He knew Tom was nuts, but not like this. Tom pushed Paul's head to his groin, and unleashed his stiffening prick. "It's okay," he said, "I know you want it. It'll be our little secret, pussy..." Paul was staring at Tom's erection, feeling Tom push his head closer when a shout came from down the shaft. It was the supervisor... "What the hell is going on here... I want you two fucks back to work NOW!" The Supervisor was still around a bend, and hadn't seen what was going on. Tom quickly let go of Paul, and shoved his dick back into his pants. "Sorry, Sir", he called, "This weakling little fuck is slowing me down..." Paul stood, trying to regain his composure. The Supervisor was not close enough to see yet, though his flashlight made shadows on the wall. "Well anyway, get your asses back to work", he called, and turned back. Tom looked to Paul, and winked, "Well... I guess you'll have to wait to get your cherry popped, huh pussy?" He laughed as they collected the hose and went back down the shaft to the next section. * * * * * Luckily for Paul the rest of the shaft cleaning was completed uneventfully. And the cleaning of the passenger areas was done in four man crews, under the watch of the supervisor, so Paul didn't feel quite so threatened by Tom. The day went by surprisingly quick, and soon he was handing in his coveralls and receiving his "Work Completed" form at the Detention vehicle. He turned and walked back into the Turboway station... Work Detention made sure you got to the job on time, but when it was done you had to find your _own_ way home. He sighed relief as he noticed Tom walking the other way, toward some other destination. Paul stood among the busy rush-hour crowds, waiting for the next train. He casually observed himself in a mirrored wall by the track, and noticed just how dirty he was. The coveralls had prevented the worst of it, but his pants were probably ruined. He stood musing about how dirty he was and how his Mom would have a fit over the ruined pants when he saw the woman. Through the crowd he saw her, at first in the corner of his eye, but he quickly turned to look. She was beautiful... a few years older than his seventeen with long curled golden hair, eyes that blazed a blue fire, and a face that was both youthful and mature. Something else, too, though Paul could not put his finger on it. Concern? Trouble? He wasn't sure. She wore a conservative grey business suit, though on her it seemed more sexy than anything he'd ever seen. Hmmn, he thought, she must be a secretary at one of the Corporations downtown. It struck Paul odd that she was carrying an attache... he'd only seen business men carry them. And there weren't any business women he knew of... Paul's mind raced to remember the term... "The Feminist Schism". That was it - he'd read about it in history class. Just after the Reformation there was a major rethinking of Feminist philosophy... Women began to accept the dogma of "Biological Division". Something about being better suited to tasks such as housekeeping, mothering, simple employment tasks. Nope, there weren't any 'business women' (even the term sounded odd in his head), and fewer and fewer secreteries, for that matter. Most women graduated the School System and got married and raised a family nowadays. Still, there she was, carrying an attache. Must be her employer's, he figured. He watched her move gracefully through the crowd... captured by her every move. She eventually stopped, and set her attache down. She looked around for a few moments (waiting for the train, Paul figured), and then did something that perplexed him. She turned and began to briskly walk away, without her attache. She must have forgotten something, he figured, and in her rush forgot her attache. He looked at her as she moved, and back to the attache. There was no way he'd be able to reach the attache _and_ get her attention, so he ran after her. Hopefully someone else had noticed and would hold the case for her. He worked his way through the busy crowd, trying to keep contact with her position. She turned up one of the stairways that led to the city street above. When he reached the stairs there were fewer people, but still enough stragglers trying to catch the next train to impede his movement. He watched her turn a corner and head towards the next stairway. As he turned the corner he saw her at the base of the stairs, and figured he hade to make his move. "Hey lady," he called, "You forgot your attache!" She stopped dead, and turned to look at him. For a second his eyes met hers... deep blue, awesome. It took him a second for him to recognize what he saw there - terror! She turned and began to run up the stairs, and Paul ran after her. He yelled after her, "Wait... I only said you forgot your case... I'm not some weirdo!" She kept running, and he saw her go through the street exit. He ran out into the bright light of day and looked for her. There were people everywhere, but she was gone. He stood there, at the entrance to the Turboway, and scanned the area again. Nothing. She was gone. Oh well, he thought, I tried. He was just about to head back down to the Turboshaft when he heard a loud explosion down the stairs. Everything went black. * * * * * He awoke slowly, to the sound of sirens and confusion. When Paul finally opened his eyes he realized he was on a stretcher. There was smoke and debris everywhere, and a man came over to him. The man yelled as he saw Paul open his eyes, "We've got a conscious one here!" Another man, probably a Doctor, came over and ran an infrared scanner over Paul's body. "Everything's okay here... just a few bruises and scratches..." Paul was amazed at how oblivious they seemed to his presence. As the Doctor got up and went away Paul staggered up. Wow, he thought, my head must have taken one hell of a beating. He looked around and saw a number of Police and Soldiers. The shit must have really hit the fan... He staggered over to an Officer, and asked what had happened. "An explosion in the Turboway," he said, barely noticing Paul, "We figure it must have been Protestors." The officer turned to look at Paul, and asked "Did you see anything?" Paul was about to tell him about the girl, but he stopped, unsure why. "Um, no... just heard an explosion and blacked out..." The officer looked away, "Fine then... listen, the best thing you can do is go home, and get out of the way so we can do our job..." Paul nodded agreement, though the Officer had walked away. Hmmn, he thought, but he was unable to come to any conclusions about what he was hmmning about, so he turned and began to walk home. * * * * * Paul arrived home later than expected, and was ready for a lecture on promptness. He was shocked to find his parents sitting in the den, waiting for him. He began to recount the story of the explosion (omitting the girl) when his Father cut him off... "Paul," he said solomnley, "Sit down. This came for you..." Paul took the envelope from his Father's hand, and looked at it. It was from the Department of Overseas Activities. The Army. He quickly opened it and read the letter... PAUL MATTHEWS, YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED TO JOIN THE MILITARY FORCES OF THIS COUNTRY. THIS IS A GREAT HONOUR. BE AT THE DEPARTMENT OF OVERSEAS ACTIVITIES AT 0800 ON THE DATE BELOW. Paul looked at the date. It was the very next day. He looked to his Parents, stunned, "I've been drafted?" "It would seem so," his Father replied, "I personally think it will be a great opportunity for you... you haven't been getting along too well at school... it will make a man out of you..." His Father continued, but Paul lost what he was saying. Drafted, he thought. He couldn't believe it. For the first time in his life he stood up while his Father was talking and walked away. When he reached his bedroom he dropped onto his bed. The events of the day came crashing over him, and he fell into a fitful sleep. * * * * * The next day he rose as if it were any other, showered and had breakfast. Neither his Father or Mother made any mention of the draft, except for his Father's offer to drive him to the Department. They finished breakfast without further conversation, and soon Paul found himself in their vehicle. He looked to his house as they drove away, unsure if he'd ever see it again. His Father dropped him off in front of the huge building, and after a few words of encouragement drove away. Paul stood there, and looked at the looming structure. He had only his draft notice, and the clothes on his back. He pushed open the heavy doors and walked inside. Looking around fruitlessly for a moment he finally went to an information desk, and was directed to the appropriate floor. Stepping out of the lift he saw a long line of other young men. Seeing no other options, he joined it. The line seemed to go on forever, but he eventually stood before an officer behind a desk. "Form please," the man asked calmly. Paul stared at him for a second, and realized what he wanted. He handed him the form and the man looked it over. "May I have your ID card?", he asked. Paul handed him the card and the man looked to him, almost smirking, though Paul could not figure out why. "Special Division F," he said, "Floor 24". He showed Paul the special lift to the floor and sent him on his way. Riding the lift Paul thought about the man's smirk, and what "Special Division F" might be all about. He reached the floor, and went to the reception desk. Again, the officer took his papers, and checked his ID. He then told Paul to wait in the next room and remove his clothes. Paul sat in the small room, naked, and feeling very akward. A physical, he presumed, before he found out about his assignment. After what seemed an eternity a man in a white smock entered the room. He smiled and introduced himself as Dr. Phillips. After a few routine examinations and an injection of some sort the Doctor sat down, and began to talk. "Paul," he said, "You are a very lucky young man to have been chosen by Special Division F. You will not see active combat." Paul felt relieved. He wasn't sure what the Special Division was all about, but he was beginning to like it. The Doctor continued, "But what you will undergo is as important to our country, and our way of life, as the sacrifice of any soldier in the field. Paul, some time ago our enemy conducted secret chemical attacks on our nation. You have not heard about this, as it is classified information. The aim of the attack was not to kill, not outright, but to destroy our greatest resource - our population." Paul was perplexed, not knowing how he fit into all of this. "The chemical attacks affected only the female portion of the population. They did not harm the women, except for one thing - the effect of the attack left them infertile. Only 20% of our... natural... female population is capable of childbirth..." Paul was very confused. He tried to ask his part in all of it, but couldn't find the will to speak. In fact, everything was becoming sort of hazy... "I can see from the look on your face that you are confused as to your role," the Doctor started, "Very common. Paul, for years we had geneticists work on a solution, but none could be found. The effects of the attack were permanent, but finally we stumbled across a solution. You see, Paul, males and females are not so different. We found a process by which we could genetically re-engineer a male into a female, a fertile female. That is where you come in, Paul. A small portion of draftees, who meet certain biological requirements, are assigned to Special Division F. That portion, of which you are a member, are re-engineered into females, so our society can continue!" Paul was about to raise his opposition, but could not. Everything went hazy, and he passed out. * * * * * Paul woke up on a hospital bed. He still felt very hazy, but was regaining his faculties. What had happened?, he thought. The conversation with the Doctor came back to him... great, he thought, I hope the Army knows they have a crackpot working for them. He tried to sit up, and felt very strange. There was a strange tugging at his chest, and he felt as though his body proportions were all wrong. What happened next almost made him pass out again... He looked across the ward, and saw a beautiful girl sitting up in the bed across from him. She was something, he thought... long dark hair, deep green eyes, very full breasts (as far as he could tell through her hospital gown), pouting lips... she could have been a fashion model, like he saw on TV. Just then, though, something seemed odd about her. Paul raised his hand to brush the hair out of his eyes, and she did so simultaneuosly. What sort of game is she playing?, he thought. He tried to sit up to get a better view, and she sat up too. Wow, he thought, what a flake... Then, as Paul's eyes began to focus, he noticed something... something completely incongrous with his sense of reality... there was no other bed - he was looking into a mirror! He quickly moved to look more closely, and so did his reflection. Taking his eyes away from the mirror he looked to his hands, long and slender. Dark hair cascaded onto his... breasts? Oh my God, Paul thought, he wasn't a crackpot. He quickly guided his hand under the hospital bedding, under his gown. When he reached his groin he found exactly what he expected - nothing. Nothing that he had had before, anyway... He dropped back onto the bed, and closed his eyes. What have they done, he thought, I can't be a woman! Just then he heard the Doctor's voice. "Ahh, Matthews, I see you're awake. Not bad, not bad... the geneticists have really got their work down..." Paul sat up and looked at him, "What the hell have you done to me?" Even the sound of his voice was alien, feminine... "I explained all that before, Paul. Or Paula, I guess..." He chuckled. "You are doing your country a great service! Bearing her children!" "Don't you think my parents might find it odd when I come back from the army with these?" Paul asked, holding his breasts. "Don't worry... that has been taken care of... Paul Matthews will have died in a battle fighting the forces of the Southern Continent. I'm sure you'll receive a pothsumous medal for bravery, or valor, or something... Your parents will be proud. You, however, will have a new personality, a new family, a new life..." "And what makes you think I will go along with this? What if I tell every living soul I meet about this 'Special Division F'? What then?" The Doctor shook his head, "Paul, Paul, Paul. You won't want to. Trust me, you will be very happy..." Just then two large men in hospital uniforms came into the room. One was pushing some sort of machine. The Doctor injected something into Paul's IV, and he became instantly sleepy. "You see, Paul, our technology is far beyond what you can grasp." One of the men began attaching wires to his forehead. "For all intents and purposes Paul Matthews will be dead. We can wipe your memories and replace them with an entirely new set. One that will be more comfortable, so to speak, in that gorgeous little body..." Paul felt a small electrical pulsing on his forehead, and then inside his skull. Before he blacked out he heard the Doctor speak one more time... "Sleep well, fair Paula, for when you wake you will be an entirely new person..." CHAPTER TWO Paula giggled as she read the note passed to her. It contained a rather complete description of her best friend Lisa's activities of the previous evening... right down to measurements! Mrs. Stalhorn, Paula's teacher, cleared her throat. "Ms. Busch?", she asked. Paula looked up, "Umm, yes?" "Anything you'd like to share with the rest of class?" Paula looked to Lisa, who wore an expression of terror, and turned back to the teacher, "Um, no, Mrs. Stalhorn..." The teacher smiled, "Okay. Girls, I know this isn't the most exciting stuff in the world, but it will be over soon. So, please keep your notes until after class..." She darted a wink at Paula and Lisa, "Okay?" The class murmered acceptance, and Mrs. Stalhorn went back to the lesson. Paula rather liked Mrs. Stalhorn, as did the other girls. She was beautiful, and had a gorgeous husband (the girls usually took their time leaving on days when he picked her up at work). And at the young age of twenty-five she already had two children. Paula very much wished that she would some day be so lucky... though she could do without the job part. "Can anyone tell me why the Feminist Schism happened?" she asked the class. Paula, figuring she should try to make up for her earlier disturbance, put up her hand. Mrs. Stalhorn pointed to her, "Paula..." She started, somewhat self-conscious (she didn't really like talking in front of large groups), "Well... women realized that the so-called feminist movement was being run by... well... lesbians..." A chorus of giggles spread throughout the class. Mrs. Stalhorn hushed them, "Correct, Paula... why was this a problem?" "Um, well, they didn't want to have babies... so they caused a population problem..." She smiled as she saw Mrs. Stalhorn nodding, "And that's when real women embraced the idea of Biological Division..." Mrs. Stalhorn smiled, "Correct. Very good, Paula. Women, real women, realized that Biological Division was the only true way to live. Tell me, what would you think of a turtle that tried to fly?" The class erupted into laughter, but Mrs. Stalhorn hushed them, "I know, it's ridiculous! But you see what I mean... why should we, as women, cause undue stress upon ourselves and our society by forcing ourselves into roles that we are unequipped for? We are best to leave those tasks than men are better at to men..." The class buzzer rang loudly. "That's all for today," Mrs. Stalhorn said, as the girls gathered their things and began to file out of the room, "For Monday read paragraph four on your Feminist Issues disk #2..." The class groaned at the thought of homework, especially on a weekend, but nodded agreement as they went out the door. * * * * * Paula and Lisa walked together to the Turboway Station, making small talk about boys, fashion, and other 'girl' things. They were both very aware of the stares the received from passing men, and loved it. The two walked with an air of innocent sexiness about them, ocassionally stopping to bend over and look at a dress in a shop window, intentionally allowing the short kilts of their school uniforms to ride up and give a peek of their panties. They eventually reached the Turboway Station and stood waiting for the train. Lisa was making eyes at an older gentleman when Paula asked her about her plans for the evening... Lisa smiled at the man and turned to respond. "I'm going out with Bobby again... why don't you and Terry come along?" Paula smiled. Terry was a boy she'd been dating on and off lately. "I'm not sure... I think we were going to the park..." Lisa grinned coyly, and Paula blushed, "Paula... I hope you're not planning on doing anything I wouldn't do!" Paula laughed, "Lisa... there is nothing you wouldn't do!" The two girls giggled and Lisa started making eyes at another man. Paula looked around absently, catching her reflection in a mirrored pole across the tracks. She took inventory of herself - long raven tresses, full breasts for a girl of eighteen, deep green eyes, a pouting mouth. Her makeup was perfect as usual. She was one of the most beautiful girls at School System Centre #43, and she knew it. But as she looked at the mirror something seemed wrong... she could not place what, but something was definitely wrong about the reflection... She felt dazed, and for some reason turned to look up the Turboway shaft. It was dark, menacing, and for some reason it filled her with dread... she felt dizzy as a bright light overtook her vision. Suddenly she felt jerked back, and realized that Lisa had grabbed her. "Hello?" Lisa blurted, "What's with you? You almost walked into the path of a speeding Turbo..." Paula looked back to the track and the Turboway car was stopped in front of her. People were getting on and off... "Are you coming?", Lisa asked her. Paula still felt slightly dazed, but muttered "Yes". They got on the train and began the ride home. The feeling of confusion stayed with Paula for awhile, but eventually drifted away as the two girls began to talk about boys, fashion, and their plans for the evening... * * * * * Paula arrived home at the usual time, the incident at the Turboway Station long forgotten. Her Mother greeted her with a wide smile, and asked how the day had gone. They chatted a bit about the Feminist Schism, and Paula's Mom even made an off-colour joke about lesbians! The two giggled, and promised each other not to say anything about the joke to Dad. When they were finished talking Paula ran up to her room to change before helping with supper. Her room was decorated in soft pastels - mostly in pink, her favorite colour. She took off her school uniform, and, wearing only her panties and bra, admired herself in the mirror. She smiled and posed a few very feminine poses, giggling to herself as she thought about Terry. Turning to her closet, she grabbed a grey pair of tights and a green sweatshirt with "S.S.C. #43" written across the front in white. Finished dressing, she skipped downstairs to help her Mother with dinner. Because it was Friday, her Mother allowed her the special task of preparing one of the side dishes unsupervised. Paula did very well in her Domestics class, and was always happy to show her skill in the kitchen. She made her special au-gratin whipped potatoes, smiling as she thought of how much her Father liked them. Dad got home about half an hour later, greeted with a hug from his 'little princess'. Paula loved it when he called her that! The family sat down to dinner, and her Father smiled when he saw the whipped potatoes. "You sure are good in the kitchen, Princess, you'll make a good wife someday," he said as he swallowed a mouthful of her specialty. Paula blushed, "Daddy! I hope so..." Her Mother smiled, "So... out again with Terry tonight?" Paula smiled. "I'd hate to give up my Princess, but he seems like a nice fellow," her Father added with a grin. Paula rolled her eyes, "C'mon! I'm only 18... I don't have to think about marrige for another two years!" They all laughed, and continued with dinner. They talked about a number of things - Dad's work (though Paula and her Mom didn't really understand much of it), school, their relatives - and when they were finished Paula helped her Mother clear the table and do the dishes. Dad relaxed in the den with a snifter of brandy and a cigar. When the cleaning was done Paula was given permission to go to her room to get ready for her date with Terry. * * * * * Paula stood before her closet, dedicing upon what to wear for Terry. She finally selected a short denim miniskirt, and a white t-shirt. No nylons, she thought, why risk ruining them? She giggled to herself at the thought, and went over to her lingerie drawer. She selected the frilliest, sauciest panty and bra set she had, knowing Terry liked it when she wore them. She stood in front of her mirror, admiring herself, and enjoying the luxurious feeling of getting dressed. She felt very happy, and very lucky. Sitting in front of her makeup mirror she expertly applied her lipstick, mascara, eyeshadow... not too much, but enough to drive Terry wild! When he finally arrived they made some small talk with her parents, then waved their goodbyes. Terry promised to have her home for 2330... They parked in a secluded section of "The Park". "The Park" was just a city park, City Park # 14 to be exact, but to young lovers it had a proper name. As the engine in Terry's vehicle stopped the two wordlessly moved to the back seat. Paula was sure to not be too agressive, having learned in her Intimacy course that men prefer to control sex. Soon, though, they were engaged in passionate kissing. Terry reached his hand under her t-shirt and began to massage her breasts. Paula rubbed at his groin, enjoying the growing size she felt there. Terry helped her out of her t-shirt and skirt, and after a bit more groping he undid her bra and slipped off her panties. Terry quickly pulled off his own clothes, and guided Paula into the position he liked best. 'Doggie Style' the called it in Intimacy class, and Paula knew many men preferred it. She crouched on her hands and knees, and soon felt Terry grip her from behind and insert himself into her. As he began to pump in and out of her vagina she thought about how he would be as a husband. His family was fairly well off, and he did well in the boy's classes at school. And then, from nowhere, she began to wonder what sex felt like for a man... she tried to push the thought away, but it lingered. She began to visualize herself as the man, having sex with a woman. I'm no lesbian she thought, and pushed the idea away, only to have it replaced with the memory of the Turbostation. She kept imagining seeing herself in the mirror, only instead of seeing a beautiful girl there there was a boy dressed in dirty clothes. The thought became hazy, and she began to think about the dark Turboway shaft when Terry's moaning snapped her out of it. She felt him release inside of her. Though _she_ didn't achieve orgasm Terry's moans made it clear that he was pleased, and that made her happy. The rested awhile, and began again. Though they had intercouse many times that night she did not climax... her mind was too preoccupied by the confising thoughts that kept entering it... * * * * * The next morning Paula was awakened by a telecall from Lisa. Unsure of her appearance she left the video mode off. "Video off," Lisa said, "Must have been a good night! So, did you?" Paula blushed, "Yes..." "Did he make you?" Lisa's question remained unfinished as she began to giggle. Paula thought... she wasn't about to tell her best friend that she didn't have an orgasm because she was preoccupied with thoughts of being a man... "Umm... yes... three times..." "Three times! God girl, I can see why you left your video off!" Lisa laughed, "Anyway... what are you doing tonight?" "Nothing... Terry has some family thing..." "Excellent! I need your help..." Paula knew what she meant when she 'needed help'. She had met some guy, who had a friend... "Lisa, what about Bobby?" "Oh he's nice... but, listen, I know these two football players from across town..." "Lisa, I don't know..." "Pleeeease! I'll owe you one..." Yeah, to go along with the dozens other you owe me, Paula thought. She sighed, "Okay..." They chatted a bit more before eventually disconnecting. Paula layed in bed awhile longer before getting up and doing her chores. The work helped her get her mind of the previous night, and soon she found herself happily whiling away the afternoon being domestic... * * * * * Paula met Lisa at a popular restaurant near school. She wore the tan riding pants and tight green turtleneck sweater outfit she adored so much. Her brown boots completed the look, making her a very appealing sight, and she knew it. She and Lisa exchanged compliments on their outfits, and Paula found out that the boys would be meeting them soon. About twenty minutes later a red sportsvehicle pulled into the lot and two tall muscular boys got out. Lisa ran over to one of them, and then brought both of the boys over to meet Paula. "Paula, this is Jim Billings," she said as she motioned to the boy whom she now hand her arm around, "and this is Tom Renalds..." Paula smiled as the boy who was to be her date held out his hand. He took her small hand in his and shook, "Hello, Paula..." Paula smiled, and then looked at his face, confused... "Do I know you?" Tom smiled, "Umm, I don't think so... I'd remember a pretty face like yours..." Paula was unfazed by the compliment, and continued to stare at him. Lisa broke the akward silence, "Must be one of those deja vu things..." Paula strained a smile, "Yeah..." There was something about him she didn't like... * * * * * The two couples hung out at the restaurant a while longer, making small talk about school, the war, and football. Jim and Tom talked about their recent win over S.S. Centre #26... the girls oohed and ahhed at the appropriate times, though honestly neither cared. Eventually Jim suggested going for a drive, and soon they were whisking along in his red sporter. They pulled into 'The Park' and Lisa suggested that her and Jim should take a walk. They said they'd be back in an hour, leaving Paula alone with Tom... Tom made some more small talk before resting his hand on Paula's thigh. She smiled nervously and looked at him. "Tom... I'd really rather not..." "C'mon baby..." he replied smoothly. "Tom, I..." Tom shook his head. "Well, if your going to be difficult..." Paula had almost thought the situation was over when he pulled his erection out of his jeans and grabbed her head, forcing it to his groin... He chuckled as he forced her mouth onto him, and began to roughly move her head along his shaft. "C'mon, baby, I know you like it... you like sucking cocks, I can tell. Suck it baby... suck it my little pussy..." Paula was about to try and subdue him by doing as he wished when something unhitched inside her... a sharp pain shot through her head and she became nauseaus. She opened her eyes, but she could only see flashing lights, like a strobe. Then suddenly, like a burst dam her mind flooded with memories... The came quickly, darting through her mind like a video fast forwarding... A doctor. A turboway shaft. Her father. A draft notice. Special section F. Tom, trying to force her (him?) down in the shaft. The woman. The explosion. Finally, only one thought remained, repeating like a stuck audiodisk... I'm Paul... I'm Paul... I'm Paul... Unable to think, only act, Paul bit down hard. His mouth was filled with the coppery taste of blood... Tom let go with a scream, "JESUS CHRIST! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!" Paul quickly opened the door and leapt out, frantically looking around. Lisa and Jim, who heard the scream, ran over... "What's going on?", Lisa yelled as she ran to the vehicle. Tom was still in much pain, but yelled out, "That bitch tried to bite my prick off..." Paul looked around. Couples from other vehicles were looking on as the commotion intensified. Lisa ran up to him and grabbed his arm. "Paula, what the hell is the matter with you?" Paul shook loose of her grasp and looked at her. "Let go of me," he screamed, "I don't know you!" He looked around, people were now getting out of their vehicles to see what was going on. He looked back at Lisa for a second, and ran into the night... * * * * * Paul ran aimlessly, his head pounding. He felt akward as he ran, his body proportions so entirely alien. Memories kept flooding in... often so quickly it became hard to think. When he finally stopped running her was on a busy city street. Exhausted, he sat down on a public bench, and dropped his head into his hands... What the hell was happening?, he thought. He almost hoped that he had gone insane, but he knew otherwise. The sensations, the emotions, the memories - they were all too real. Whether or not he wanted to believe it he was faced with only one solution - he was now a girl. As he sat his mind whirled. His memories of his male life were overwhelming, yet still the memories of being Paula remained. They weren't as prominent, yet they still lingered. He felt part of himself pulling back to those memories... he felt like he was fighting a war inside his head. The memories of Paula eventually receeded, though they did not disappear completely. He could not think of what to do, where to go... it was all to hard. He was tired, very tired... A voice snapped Paul back to reality. He looked up. A street person was standing in front of him... all rags and unpleasant smells. Paul squinted, "What?" "I said are you going to use that bench girlie cause I need to sleep somewhere and I want to there..." The man's teeth were yellow, and decaying. Paul stood up without answering and began to walk down the street. The street person mumbled a thank you, but Paul walked on. Regardless of what state his mind might be in, he thought, his body was still very much that of a girl... a beautiful girl. And city streets were no place for a beautiful girl to be at night. He finally decided to go home... Paula's home. He needed time to think, and was desperately tired. He found a Turboway Station, and after deciphering where he was, Paul found a route home... * * * * * When he unlatched the front door his 'parents' were waiting for him. His Mother quickly ran to him, "Paula, where have you been? We were so worried... Lisa called..." "Princess, no one better have tried to hurt you..." his Father added. Paul wanted very much to hit the man, but held back. He looked at the two people before him... to part of him they were complete strangers, yet to another part they were his parents. He shook his head... "I'm okay..." he said, "listen, I'm just really tired..." His Mother smiled, "You go get some sleep, then, and we'll talk tommorow..." He began up the stairs and the two people who were his parents watched him, and then looked at each other. * * * * * He reached his room, and quickly got out of his clothes. He pulled off the frilly panty set and sat on his bed, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He shook his head as he gazed at the beautiful girl there... the long dark hair, the green eyes, the perfect body. How can this be me?, he thought. He found a t-shirt and some cotton panties, and put them on. Crawling under the sheets he curled into a tight ball. He thought some more, but eventually pushed the thoughts away. He was too tired. With nothing left to think about he began to sob... tears began to pour down his cheeks. He fell asleep crying, yet somehow it made him feel better... * * * * * Paul awoke to find his 'Mother' sitting at the end of his bed... and for a second she _was_ his Mother, and he was Paula. He shook his head, trying to collect his thoughts as the woman began to speak. "Paula dear... I'm sure you've had a terrible night. Do you want to talk?" she intoned softly. He stared at her for a second before answering, "No." She smiled and shifted closer, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Paula, growing from being a young lady to a woman is sometimes difficult..." Paul cut her off, shrugging off her hand. "Listen lady... I don't know who you are, but get this straight. I am not Paula, and I am not your FUCKING daughter..." His eyes were red with rage and frustration. She smiled nervously and began to speak again. "Paula, I..." "Shut up and get out..." "Listen to yourself..." He screamed "GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! NOW!" His 'Father' appeared in the doorway to his bedroom. Paul looked at him, seething. "What the fuck do you want?" The man didn't reply, but only looked to the woman. She nodded slightly, shrugged, and then got up from the bed and walked out of the room. The man gestured to someone down the hall... Five men in white overcoats quickly ran into the room. Four of them pinned Paul down, and the fifth reached into a small bag he was carrying and produced a needle. Paul spat at him... "What are you doing? Let me go... I said LET ME GO!" The man ignored him and slowly inserted the needle in Paul's forearm. He became instantly dizzy, and felt consciousness slipping away. As his mind became black he shouted at them... "YOU BASTARDS! YOU BASTARDS!..." * * * * * Paul awoke in a hospital room. Though it was dark he recognized it instantly... somewhere in the Department of Overseas Activities building he figured, where 'Special Division F' does their little science projects. A man walked in and turned on the lights, closing the door behind him. Paul tried to lunge at him, but was restrained. He knew the man... Doctor Phillips. The Doctor chuckled, pulled a chair next to the bed, and sat down smiling. "Well well, fiery little one we have here..." he laughed. "Fuck you..." was all Paul could think of to say. Phillips shook his head, grinning, "Now that's no way for a young lady to talk." He paused and rubbed his eyes. "Paul Matthews... what an interesting case you have proven to be..." Paul simply stared at him. "You are the first case of complete memory recovery we've experienced. Sure, we've had small incidents... usually controllable by medication, sometimes a low level brain scan to reinforce the personality... but _never_ a complete recovery where the original personality has resumed control. You are quite the talk around the division..." "It's nice to be popular," Paul said coldly. "Don't really know what to do with you... the Army brass up high wanted you terminated, the security risks and all, but I talked them out of it. I've convinced them to conduct tests, and impose a second brain scan. This time, however, we'll keep you under closer survaillance..." He reached out and gently brushed Paul's cheek, "How do you feel about being the young wife of a prominent doctor?" Paul turned his head away, and the Doctor laughed. Phillips looked over Paul's enticing female form, "I'm going to love fucking your little pussy there." He leaned closer, and whispered into Paul's ear, "I'm going to love it even more when you beg me to fuck you again and again..." Paul turned and spat in Phillips face. The doctor sat back in his chair, and took a handkerchief out from his pocket to wipe his face. He laughed as he was doing it, "So you spit, eh? Don't worry when I'm done you'll love to swallow..." The hospital room door swung open, and a young nurse with blonde curly hair walked in. Phillips turned to look at her, "Nurse, I gave specific instructions _not_ to be disturbed. You'd better have a good..." She didn't respond, but walked swiftly over to him, pulling a thin wire from her uniform. Unflinchingly she inserted it into the Doctor's temple and his body slumped off the chair. Paul looked down at the doctor and saw blood pooling on the floor. He turned to look at the Nurse, confused... "You killed him..." and was suddenly overcome with recognition... It was the girl from the Turboway station. He stared at her and said, "It's you..." She ignored him, and opened the door. Three men in hospital whites came in. She addressed them quietly, "Quickly..." One of the men took out a needle and inserted it into Paul's arm. The other two pulled in a stretcher and began to undo his restraints. Paul began to black out, again... he looked to the girl and asked, "What are you doing?" As he finally faded into unconsciousness he watched her. She did not even seem to notice his question. His final feeling before the darkness was his body being lifted onto the stretcher and being wheeled away... CHAPTER THREE Paul awoke slowly, his head pounding and his mind foggy. He opened his eyes and looked around. He was in a small white room... it looked very old... there were no windows, and only one door. He was on a bed, a regular bed, not a hospital bed, and was wearing a loose white cotton robe. He didn't need to look under the robe to know his body hadn't changed. He was quickly becoming used to the different weight displacement, having breasts, and having nothing between his legs. He sat up cautiously, trying to maintain his balance. His head pounded even more as he propped himself up. Where the hell am I?, he thought. The door opened, and a man in grey clothing walked in carrying a small bag. When he saw that Paul was up he smiled. "Hello," the man man said, "You'll probably feel better if you keep your head on the pillow, at least until the drug wears off..." Paul looked at him, confused, and laid down again. He was right, Paul thought, as the pounding subsided somewhat. The man smiled again and took a chair from the corner and unfolded it. Smiling, he sat down. "I guess you've been through a lot," he said, "There's no need to worry... you'll be safe here..." Paul began to mutter out a question, his words slurred, "What..." The man smiled and hushed him, "Shhh... you're too weak to talk. In time you'll be able to ask all the questions you want..." Paul nodded slightly. He didn't know why, but he trusted this man. He seemed sincere, and friendly. The man gestured to his case. "I've got a needle here that contains a nutritional suppliment... nothing else. You are very weak and need it... There will be a small prick on your arm, but it won't hurt you, okay?" Paul smiled and nodded. He'd been pricked by more than his fair share of needles lately. The man smiled and took the needle out of the case... he slowly, cautiously inserted it into Paul's arm. As he pulled it out he placed a small cotton ball over the puncture and taped it with a bandage. He smiled again, and stood. "Now, you should get some more rest..." he said as he opened the door and turned to go. Paul laid there for a few minutes more, before falling into a calm, restful sleep. * * * * * When Paul woke again he was feeling much better. Still a little weak, but the pounding in his head was gone. He looked around the room, and saw a pile of clothes on a chair next to the bed. There was a small note attached. He sat up and read the note. "These should be more comfortabled." was all it said. He looked at the pile of clothes - a pair of dark green work pants, a grey t-shirt, a pair of cotton panties, a cotton bra, and some grey socks. On the floor next to the bed were a pair of low cut black work boots. Well, Paul thought, I won't be winning any fashion contests, and chuckled to himself. He was glad to be able to wear something other than the robe, and was in no mood to play dress up. Dealing with this new body was enough to handle without being made up like a tart... the clothes would do. He stood, cautiously at first, but feeling his sense of balance restored he began to dress. He was very conscious of the proportions of his new body... the bra would be a welcome relief to the constant tugging at his chest. He expertly put it on, not knowing where he had learned to put on a bra. He figured it was a lingering memory from the brain scan. As he put on the rest of the clothes and pulled on the boots he began to feel much better than he had in a long while. He still had no idea where he was, but he had a sense of security. One last item that he had failed to see before was on the chair, a hair elastic. He took it and pulled his long dark hair into a ponytail. It felt good to get his hair out of his eyes... He tried the door but found it locked. Not knowing what to do he sat at the end of the bed. A few minutes later the door opened and the man whom he had met before came in. He was smiling, and Paul couldn't help but smile back. "Hi," the man said, "I see you found the clothes... I hope everything fits okay... it was all we had..." Paul nodded, "It's fine, thanks. Who is we?" The man smiled, "In a few minutes you'll be told everything." Paul shrugged, "I guess I'm in no position to bargain... I tried the door." The man shrugged apologetically, "Sorry, we thought it was best if we kept it locked. You were on some pretty serious meds there, you might have hurt yourself..." "And I might have gotten away?" Paul asked dryly. "Sorry... that too. Listen, if you come with me we can get some of your questions answered..." There was not much else to do, Paul figured, and he was very curious to find out what had happened. He stood, and looked at the man. "First question... do you have a name?" The man smiled, and held out his hand, "Damon." Paul shook his hand, "Hi Damon, this might be a bit hard for you to believe, but I'm Paul..." Damon shook his head, "Don't worry, I know all about it..." Paul smiled, and began to laugh. Damon started laughing too. Paul wasn't sure why he had begun to laugh, but laughing with another person made him feel much better... * * * * * Paul followed Damon down a maze of corridors, all dark and damp, lit only by the occasional uncovered lightbulb hung from the ceiling. He had no idea where he was, but it seemed very old. They passed a few people, all of whom nodded to Damon as the walked by. Eventually they came to a door. There was a Guard posted, with a rifle slung over his shoulder. He nodded to Damon and unlocked the door... The room in which they entered was much larger, and brighter. The floors here were not cold concrete like the corridors or the room he had awoke in, they were tiled. The pattern was very old, and in disrepair, but enough of the original mosaic was left to make out the picture. It was of a sad-eyed woman holding a baby... they both had gold rings around their heads. There was a round table in the centre of the room, and Damon gestured to one of the chairs. They both sat down, and Paul turned to Damon, "Are we waiting for someone?" He nodded, "Yes, Eva will be here soon..." Paul nodded and looked around the room... there was something very comforting about the architecture, the colours, the light. He somehow felt safe there. Soon the door opened and three people walked in. He recognized one instantly - the blonde assasin who had killed Dr. Phillips. Another was a tall, muscular black man. The last woman to enter was a woman who appeared to be in her late fifties or sixties... She had long silver hair, tied into a bun. Her face was very warm, and she smiled when she saw Paul. Paul nervously smiled back. She wore the same dark work clothes as the others, but carried herself with a grace that defied her appearance. Looking at her Paul thought that she must have been incredibly beautiful whe she was younger. As it was, even though she showed the signs of her age, she was still stunning. The trio sat down at the table with Paul and Damon. Paul shot a look at the beautiful blonde girl who had planted the bomb in the Turboway and killed Dr. Phillips in cold blood. She appeared as cold and impassive as ever. The black man seemed friendlier, though with an air of caution about him. The older woman smiled and began to speak. Her voice flowed with the same elegance as her body, "Hello Paul Matthews, I am Eva..." Paul smiled, "Hello." Though he had dozens of questions, he didn't know where to start. She started to speak again... "Paul," she said, "I am sure you are very curious about a number of things, but I believe a few introductions are in order first. I see you've already met Damon. This is Reginald..." she gestured to the black man. They exchanged smiles, Reginald's smile somewhat tainted with caution. Eva gestured to the girl, "...and this is Alicia." Paul smiled, but the girl merely nodded. "We four are members of a group that calls itself The Underground." Paul nodded, though he had never heard that name before. Eva smiled and continued, "Paul, I'm sure over the last few months you have experienced things that have dramatically changed the way you look at our society... what I am about to tell you will challenge these notions even more..." "Our society is based on the remenants of a country called the United States Of America... you may have heard of it in your school classes on the Reformation. About two hundred years ago there was a global conflict that destroyed many of mankind's established nations. In their place grew smaller socities, with less central government - lose affiliations of City-States, if you will. Our society grew out of what had been the eastern part of the United States of America. At first, like many of the new nations, it was hostile, ungoverned, chaotic. Then, the event you know as The Reformation occured. Small groups of people who had managed to control some wealth during the tumultous years following the great global conflict sought to establish order. The used their power to begin imposing a society based upon their ideals. "The Reformers felt that the cause of the global conflict, and subsequent breakup of nations, was the lack of a moral absolute. They believed that by maintaining certain aspects of society in strict roles they could maintain order. For example, they felt that the rapid influx of women into the workforce in the century leading up to the great conflict eroded the family unit, causing crime and moral degeneration. To maintain their society as they wished, they had to ensure that women would be kept in submissive roles, essentially as breeders and nurturers. And not only women were to be controlled... men needed to be agressive and dominant, yet respectful of authority, and minorites needed to be segregated and subdued. To achieve this goal they found only one solution. "Before the conflict many of the Reformers had made themselves very wealthy by dealing in the trade of elicit drugs. After the conflict they sought out those contacts with whom they had dealt with before, but this time with a far more organized plan. They developed huge factories, initially on the Southwestern continent, and in their labs created many types of drugs for their specific needs. For women they developed a drug we believe is called Subtain. It causes the user to develop passive personality traits, to be controlled easily. For men they developed Mastain, which reinforces the agressive instincts of men, but also develops a need for authority. For the minorities they developed Regutain, which causes submissiveness and lowers intelligence levels. They found ways of exposing the select groups to the drugs without their awareness. Soon, as society began to feel the effects, there was a population waiting to be controlled. With virtually no opposition, the Reformers gained control easily." Paul started blankly, overwhelmed by it all. Had someone told him before all this had happened to him that his society was controlled by behavoir modifying drugs he would have though them mad. Now, however, it made sense. He thought of all of the women he had ever known, his Mother even, and they fit the profile exactly. The men... he only had to think of someone like Tom Renalds or Mr. Billings to confirm his suspiscions. He shook his head, and looked to Eva. "But where do I come into all of this? Why did they do..." Paul looked at his body, "...this to me?" Eva nodded, "They had too. The drugs did a marvelous job of controlling the populace... but over time they began to show side-effects. Men would occasionally have bouts of rage, minorities experienced a high number of birth-defects, and a large number of women became infertile. "They told me it was because of an enemy virus..." Paul said. Having seen the way in which his society ran, though, he knew it was just another lie. "That is the typical story they tell... they can't very well explain why women are bereft without exposing their manipulation of society through drugs. Nonetheless, the infertility caused much concern... how could they control a population that was not propigating? They did numerous tests to discover a way to maintain control over women, yet leave them fertile, but came to no solutions. "At the same time they had been doing genetic experiments, mostly to develop better soldiers. One of their scientests developed a way to change a biological male into a biological female, capable of repoduction. They had some horrible mishaps at the beginning, but over time developed a process that was flawless. You only need look into the mirror to confirm that..." Paul nodded. His body gave no reason to believe that it was anything other than female. There were no traces of his former masculinity at all. "But why me?