Virus
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Virus free porn video
Virus
by Jade Catherine Devlin
2011 A.D.
I sat, uncomfortable in button-down shirt and tie, in a conference
room in Gilette's corporate headquarters in Massachusetts. An ambitious
young man in an impeccable suit gestured with his laser pointer at a graph.
"The leaders in the razor market agreed last month to share data on the
phenomenon. The results are shocking. Sales of men's razors fell 21%
across the board last year, and the decrease is continuing and accelerating.
We project a further loss of 35% this year if current trends continue."
"Results of preliminary surveys indicate that the men are not choosing
to grow beards or to live with stubble. Instead, it appears that they are
shaving less often because they do not need to - their beards are literally
growing more slowly."
"The cause is unknown, but our vital corporate interests demand that
it be uncovered. To that end, we have funded a $3 million research project,
beginning this month, by Dr. Ellenbogen." He gestured toward me. "He is a
leader in the field of environmental estrogen analogues, and has the best
chance of any known researcher of uncovering the problem. Dr.
Ellenbogen?"
I stood. "Thank you, Mr. Hauptmann. Worldwide, male sperm
counts have been dropping for decades. The most popular theory to explain
the phenomenon postulates the presence in the environment of molecules
mimicking the physiological effects of estrogen, presumably resulting from
industrial pollution. While far from conclusive, research thus far suggests "
I droned on, unhappy with the task of explaining science to
nonscientists. Still, it was the only way to get money, and there's no such
thing as science without money. This project would keep my lab cooking
happily along for years. With luck, we might even get some answers.
2013 A.D.
So far, I had lots more money, but no answers. I was miserable.
Oh, there were fascinating results on the extent of the problem. It
didn't take a scientist or a survey to see the problem anymore. And it went
way beyond shaving. Condom makers had phased out their "Large" sizes,
but "Extra Small" was selling like hotcakes. Clothing companies were
redesigning their "men's" jeans with virtually the same cut as the women's.
Others were churning out garments designed to support like a bra, yet
somehow look masculine. I rubbed self-consciously at the flesh budding
beneath my own nipples. Like it or not, I would need one of those for
myself soon. I held in my hands reports from five physicians describing the
latest phenomenon - patients whose penises had actually begun to invert,
showing every sign of developing into vagina like structures. "Gosh," I
muttered sarcastically, "I can't wait until the press gets hold of this."
No simple estrogen analogue could do this. What, then?
Congress was in an utter panic. I had been appointed head of an
NSA commission with godlike powers to take all the funding I wanted.
How humiliating, to command the scientific resources of the entire nation,
but still come up empty.
My phone beeped. The screen displayed a striking African-American
woman with high cheekbones, large eyes, stained lab coat and an
disturbingly smug grin.
I pressed the Accept button. "Dr. Newhart! A pleasure to hear from you."
Her smile grew. "So glad you remember me!"
"Of course! Your paper at the Louisville conference was brilliant."
Truthfully, that was only half the reason I remembered her. Her beauty was
almost as memorable as her mind.
"Thank you. You are looking well - younger than I remember, I swear."
Yes, well, most men looked younger these days; it was the damned estrogen,
or whatever-it-was. "And congratulations on your appointment! How is the
research faring?"
"Hmm." I grimaced. "Progress is slow."
"Yes, well, I called to help. It will take some explanation. You see, I am a
male-to-female transsexual."
I blinked. "I wouldn't have known."
"No, I wouldn't expect you to. I designed my own, rather revolutionary,
treatment. I have used retroviruses to correct my chromosomes directly."
Professional doubt replaced my surprise at her revelation. "Easier said than
done."
"Indeed. I am transmitting technical data describing the process; I hope you
will be impressed. There were quite a few hurdles to overcome."
"Even if you could change all the chromosomes, that wouldn't necessarily
have much of an effect on the body of an adult."
"Getting the body to implement the new genetic pattern was an even greater
challenge. The solutions I found are also described in my transmission. I
hope you will forgive me for taking considerable pride in them."
"If they work "
"Oh, they did, Dr. Ellenbogen. My entire body was resculpted, from soft
tissues all the way to skeleton - breast growth, facial structure, vocal chords,
shoulder and hip size, even overall height. I even grew my own vagina."
I blushed at this overly personal bit of data.
"Don't be embarrassed, Doctor! Once you are one of us, you will find that
we women can be quite frank with each other. You see, I found the common
cold virus to be the best vector for introducing the new genetics."
"Isn't that awfully contagious for research work?"
"Indeed it is! Tell me, Doctor, have you had a cold in the last several years?"
I stood up in shock, knocking a stack of papers to the floor. "It got out of
your lab?"
"Yes, Doctor."
"How could you be so careless?"
"Oh, I was very careful! I very carefully released the virus in 84 cities in
2006. You see, there's another personal detail you need to understand I'm a
man-hating lesbian. Even my therapist says so. Most lesbians aren't man-
hating, I know, but I'm the exception that proves the rule."
I sat down, sweating, hoping this was all some bizarre hoax. "Many
individuals will be naturally immune."
"I know that, Dr. Ellenbogen. That's why I've released seventeen different
strains. I think that should cover all the bases, don't you?"
"Why are you telling me this?"
"My work is done. It's too late for you to do anything about it now. You
may as well begin adjusting as soon as possible. If you doubt me, why don't
you have a CAT scan done of your abdomen? You'll find a small cavity
shaped like an upside-down pear. It's your uterus, waiting for your penis to
grow inward to a vagina and connect to it. I hope you enjoy it! Have a
beautiful day, Dr. Ellenbogen."
2015 A.D.
"Remember to wiggle the brush back and forth as you stroke upward,"
prompted my wife, Arielle.
"Thanks", I said in my new soprano voice. I leaned close to the mirror and
obeyed, and was rewarded with a good coat of mascara. I stood back and
studied our reflections. She, in a stunning silver metallic gown, cut backless
for extra visual impact. I, in a basic black strapless with a thigh-high slit.
The tailoring drew the eye relentlessly to my slim waist and rounded breasts
and hips.
"We look stunning!" she said, beaming. I had to agree. We swept out of the
house and down the street, turning every head we passed.
On the T, Boston's venerable subway, I spotted a drab-looking Asian woman
in a loose-fitting blazer and slacks. Her face was changed, but recognizable.
I smiled and approached her. "Roger Hsiu? Or is it Rachael now, or
Robin?"
She looked at me, startled, showing discomfort and no recognition. "Um,
still Roger and you are ?"
I folded my hands demurely before me. I realized I had been reaching to hug
her, but I had better identify myself first. "Danielle Ellenbogen. Used to be
Dan."
Her eyes popped. "Dan?"
Now I hugged her. "So good to see you again! You're on your way to the
class reunion?"
"Uh, yeah you too?"
"Wouldn't miss it for the world. The glorious Institute! Have you met my
wife, Arielle? She was Course Six-Three, but we didn't meet until we were
seniors, so you might never have met her. Arielle, this is Roger we took
5.012 together."
"So glad to meet another alumna of MIT." Arielle smiled and shook Roger's
hand. "Especially an old friend of my wife."
"Uh, thanks," stammered Roger. "Look, Dan "
"Danielle," I corrected.
"Sorry - Danielle - you look uh, great, don't get me wrong, but, so
different."
I giggled. "What, you never caught Newhart's Virus?"
"No, I did, it's just I heard you were in charge of some government
committee to stop the virus. I figured you'd be the last to, well, embrace it."
"I did try. But there is no way to fight the virus. There is no solution to the
problem; unless, of course, it's not a problem in the first place. Since I've
realized that, I've put my energy into helping people understand and enjoy
their new situation."
"Oh. You're really going to the reunion like that?"
"You're really going like that?" I poked at her middle. "You've got a figure,
you know, you could look great if you didn't try to hide it grew out your
hair there's no reason for you to hide like this."
"I guess you've got a point. At least I haven't been like those people who got
mastectomies and go around pretending nothing happened."
"Or the ones who committed suicide. Yes, well, I'm just trying to help
people face reality. I'm a woman now, and so are you. And that doesn't
have to be a bad thing - it can be a really wonderful thing."
"Well, I guess seeing you like this ought to convince people, if anything
can. You really do look wow."
"She does, doesn't she?" interjected Arielle, wrapping an arm possessively
around my waist and resting it on my hip. "I'm proud of her, and I love her
more than ever."
"Well, what about the propagation of the species and all that? With no males"
"That was one success of our program. We have a process to combine egg
cells from two women into a viable embryo. No more unplanned
pregnancies this way!"
"Plus less crime, less military spending, less domestic violence " said Arielle.
"You weren't in league with Newhart or something, were you?" Roger asked
mostly-jokingly. "You seem so enthusiastic.
"No, but I guess I've begun to see the merit of what she did," I answered.
"Maybe, in a few more years when everybody has gotten used to it, she'll be
able to come out of hiding."
"They ought to give her a Nobel Peace Prize. Not to mention the Nobel for
biology," said Arielle.
"Downtown Crossing, change to the Red Line," intoned a classic Bostonian
alto over the scratchy old loudspeaker. The train screeched to a stop, and the
three of us exited into the underground station.
"Say, Roger there won't be anything really worthwhile going on at the
reunion for another three hours. That's enough time for a hairstyle and a
quick shopping trip. You'd be surprised what it could do for you."
"Gosh I wouldn't know where "
"We'll take you," said Arielle, taking her by the elbow. "It won't hurt a bit.
I taught Danielle everything she knows, you know."
Together, we pulled my confused friend toward a stylist's shop. "I think
Robin would be a pretty name, don't you?"
Grace
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