The Virus free porn video

The Virus By Jillian Please forward any comments on this story to [email protected] . ******************************************************************* I'd been working for FEMA, the Federal Emergency Management Agency, for just over six months when news began to filter out of the old USSR of a major disaster at one of their bio-weapons labs. As one of the planners for potential emergencies, I was in the loop because of my need to know status in case we had to plan a reaction scheme. For about a week or so after getting the first word that something had happened over there, that's all we knew; we had no details of any kind, no real information whatsoever. In that my role in FEMA was such that I had to be in on all security briefings, I got the real news about what is involved first hand and at the same time as the President for I sat in on his briefings from the CIA on the subject. While I'm not a political appointee like most of the others who also sit in, I have known the President personally for years and have his complete and total trust. So it wasn't at all out of character for him to ask me to wait a few minutes after that first briefing to meet with him privately for a brief discussion. "Art, I want to move you over to the White House staff for this but also keep you on the FEMA roles. Think you're up to representing me personally on whatever groups are put together?" "I'll do my best, Mr. President, you know that." "Hey, white-boy, we're alone so drop that Mr. President crap, ya hear me?" Grinning, I answer "Okay Injun, it's just hard to do, all things considered." "Okay then, from here on in whatever groups you work with on this disaster, you speak for me. I'll see to it you get through to me anytime you call, too. Keep me posted?" "Sure thing, Injun." The group who came together the following week for the next briefing was slightly different in composition from the previous meeting. This time the COJC was there, Marine Corps 4 Star General Amos Willcott, both Majority Leaders of the House and the Senate, the Attorney General and the Surgeon General along with me and the Director of FEMA. The briefing officer was Injun's appointee to head up the CIA, Carl Kerry. It was here, prior to the start of the briefing, that Injun told the others of my special relationship and authority to speak for his office. In all reality, as he explained it, I outranked the head of FEMA but would remain subordinate to him in all matters unrelated to this crisis. Then we got the full briefing, which included the Big Bombshell, as we came to call it, which that the virus unleashed by the accident at the old USSR, now Russian, Bio-Weapons lab was one that somehow appeared to be changing the sex of those persons who became infected with it. After almost an hour of futile and senseless arguments how we might seal off the US, Injun got mad and told us all to shut the hell up. "Look, people, we're never going to be able to seal this country off from the rest of the world and you should know it, not with so many our troops overseas and all our diplomatic personnel. It would doom all of them to permanent exile. So instead, let's look at how to deal with this shit when it reaches our shores. Art. set up a group to look at what we'll have to do to deal with the effects this shit will have on the population. What can and should we, as the Federal Government, do to deal with all the possible ramifications this will have on us. Be sure to have some Doctors and at least one rep. from the Military. Oh, and someone from Congress, too. Check with Bill and Jerry for their recommendations. We may need some special legislation passed to deal with this mess. Not a word of this is to be leaked until we hear back from Art and his gang, understood?" he then asks, looking around the room. Everyone nods their head and we're summarily dismissed, all but me as has become customary. "Art, we need to look at every aspect of this mess, from how, what and what we tell the public right down to how we can help the people who get this shit. Keep me posted as always." "Will do, Injun." A week later, the first meeting of my little group in coming to order as I introduce everyone to each other, explaining what their backgrounds are and why I've asked them to help. Colonel Carol Anges, U.S. Army representing the Military. Dr. Tom Georges, Psychiatrist. Dr. Abbi Conners, M.D. from the CDC. Bill Allen, attorney from the JD. Senator Julie Daniels, Chmn. of the Senate Judiciary Committee and me. After the introductions, I go over the key points of what we know about this disaster so far; how it happened and where, then I go into what we know about it so far. ? The virus-initiated sex change appears to infect approximately 80% of those who contract it. ? The remaining 20% suffer only the more normal affects; flu-like symptoms. ? The 20% immunity factor is thus far unidentified, appearing to occur at random. ? There is an accompanying age-shift that affects the victims as well, also with random affects. ? All the victims, in addition to having their sex and ages changed, become quite attractive. ? The symptoms start like the flu and for those affected or victimized, the change is an overnight occurrence, taking place on the fourth day after the first symptoms are known. A long, detailed and very involved discussion ensues after my recap of the details, the crux of which is potential preventative measures. I finally step in and put a stop to it, invoking my authority as speaking for the President and telling them this has already been discussed and put aside as impractical, that our job is to prepare for what he sees as inevitable, the infection of the United States with this virus. "Let's figure out what we're going to need to do, as the Federal Government, to help the citizenry get through this with the least amount of disruption." Two days later, we had a preliminary list of the high points of what we could agree our role should encompass: 1. Preparation of the public to avoid panic-like reactions. 2. The establishment of clothing exchanges on a Nation-wide basis, all of which would be free. 3. Adjustment centers for those most unable to cope with the changes. ? Medical information for those who will need it as to the needs of their new sex. 1. Staffed by Doctors and such with experience treating Trangender patients 4. Centers to facilitate change of ID's 5. New laws to accommodate the potential fall-out of the expected mass sex changes. We had also reached agreement of some of the Committee's role should be on an on-going basis throughout this crisis: ? We six would continue to look at and oversee the big picture. ? We would also form smaller sub-committees to look at various areas in greater detail. ? For these sub-committees, additional people would be called on for there more specialized expertise. I volunteered myself to work with the two Doctors, Tom and Abbi, out of personal interest and just in case I catch this damned stuff myself. I want to find out all I can about what being a female is like and from every aspect. It's already just past four o'clock so I end the meeting and send them home or back to their hotels, heading off for the White House to meet with the President to tell him what we've decided on. Meeting in his private study just outside of the Oval Office, I show him what we've come up with and he asks a few questions before telling me "Good job, Art, I like it. Now, how do we go about point one, telling the public?" "Injun, we can't rely on just the White House and your good offices, we're going to need every part of the Media involved, from the news organizations right on out to Hollywood. We HAVE to get them behind us on this." "How do you think we can pull that one off, you know how they hate us?" "Well, as I see it, there's only one way. We get them here and lay it all out for them, make them understand it's going to infect them too and explaining we need their help and expertise to keep to the public from panicking. With their help, we might even be able to make the whole idea seem attractive somehow." "I see your point. Mass hypnosis, if you will." "More like mass brainwashing, much as I hate to call it that." I tell him. "Yeah, that's probably what it'll require at that. Okay, here's the deal; I'm granting you a Presidential Authorization Code for the dealings you're going to have to have for your dealings with the FBI and various Governors, let's use `Alpha-Delta Five'. That's only one level below the Secretary of State. The way it's used with any agency or Governor that's being recalcitrant is to tell them `My PAC is Alpha-Delta Five.' That should end it right then and there, if not, call me day or night. Now go set it up with Hollywood. I'd suggest you pick out a few key people out there and meet with them on their own turf first. Get them on our side and let them bring the others in." So it is that less than a day later, Dr. Abbi and I are in a Presidential Executive Jet headed for the west coast and a meeting with the Governor of California who is a Democrat. We've already spoken with him by phone and asked him to put a list together for us that includes to most internally influential people in Hollywood, not in the view of the public. With only a Pilot and Co- Pilot on board besides us, Abbi and I have time to talk, 3.5 hours worth as a matter of fact. "Okay, Abbi, let's put all the governmental crap aside and discuss this on a strictly personal basis. I don't know about you but personally, I'm scared. I haven't the slightest idea in the world what it might be like to wake up a woman if I catch that damned virus and it scares the hell out of me." "Art, it scares the shit out of me too. I like being a woman and to think that I may not be one much longer.. Well, you know." "Abbi, can we put aside all the old male-female taboos and talk about this straight up? There are some things I'd really like to know." "Me too, Art, so yes, let's do just that." "Well, first off, I can't help but wonder what it will be like to have breasts and a vagina, especially after 61 years of being flat- chested and having the external parts of man. Much as I would guess you wonder much the same thing, only from the opposite view." "Yes, very much so. I can't imagine what it'll be like to have male organs hanging from between my legs. I would think they'd be very much in one's way." And so the following three or so hours went as Abbi and I shared our fears and curiosities with each other while gaining some small amount of insight what our lives might be like if we catch and are affected by this damnable virus. After our initial meeting with the Governor, and then, a day later with some key stars and movie studio heads, we spend one last night in Hollywood before heading back to Washington. Starting during dinner and then continuing with desert and after dinner drinks, Abbi and I continue our discussion of the differences between men and women and what we each might expect. Having already covered the potential disadvantages we each might discover, we're now addressing the advantages as we see them. I try to explain to Abbi the feeling of strength men have but she interrupts me, asking me to tell her what it's like for a man to have sex with a woman. "Well, let's see if I can find the words. To a man who's with a woman and both are in the throes of passion, she is so soft, so sensual. Her breasts beg to be touched, kissed. her back caressed, her butt cheeks squeezed." But what's it feel like when you enter her?" Abbi asks. "Abbi, it's like being submerged in wet, soft velvet. What's it like for a woman?" Well, our breasts ache to be touched and our vaginas get very, very wet as our bodies prepare to be penetrated." "And when you are? What is that like? What does it feel like?" "We have this empty feeling, this need to be filled that becomes almost overpowering, Art. It's this feeling that makes us part our legs to accept our lover between them. Damn, just talking about it like this is affecting me." "Yeah, I know, same here." "Anyway, when we are finally penetrated by our lover, it gives us, well me at least, a sense of fulfillment." We go on in greater detail for a short time before she turns the discussion to clothing. Again we ask each other what it's like to wear what we do now. "Well, when I get home or tonight to my room, I can't wait to get out of this dress I'm wearing and off with my bra and pantyhose, they're just so constricting after having worn them all day long." "I know that feeling, I can't wait to get undressed either." Another discussion follows of what it's like to wear skirts or dresses vs. men's suits. High heels vs. men's shoes and so on. Then, very much to my surprise and shock, Abbi suggests I spend the night with her, saying "I think we would both benefit from an unashamed and very open examination of each other's bodies, don't you?" So it was that our affair was born, one that continued for many weeks into the future and through all the changes we went through after catching the virus, but more about that later. I will say, however, that her being a Doctor was quite helpful for not only did I she tell me the medical terms for the various parts of both our bodies but some new slang ones as well. Out of this night came the germ of a new idea for our group to consider when we get back to D.C., too, that of suggesting strongly that every citizen find a partner if they don't already have one before they catch the virus, some one both can trust to help each of them through the difficult times ahead. I head straight to the White House to let Injun know how things went on the west coast right after I have the limo driver drop Abbi off at her place, promising her I'd be back as soon as I finished meeting with the President. However, by the time I get done reporting to the President on our trip west, Abbi's already in bed and sound asleep. Three hours is a long time to wait up for someone, it appears. First thing on our schedule the next day is a meeting with the "gang of six" as Injun has taken to calling us. As a key part of this meeting, we go over some of the additional members we feel are needed to help with the sub-committees and it's here that Tom, the only other Doctor besides Abbi, suggests a female Psychiatrist he's worked with in the past to help the three of us deal with the key psychological issues. This person has had extensive experience working with people who seek to be transgendered or who have had it done and find difficulty in accepting it. As we'd previously agreed, total agreement on a nominee being required, her skills and potential worth to our assigned goal is discussed prior to her acceptance by vote. Once this is obtained, Tom makes a note to call her and summon her to D.C. to join the group. Then we break into sub-groups for a brief time before reporting back on what we've done or decided to do since our last meeting. Abbi and I tell Tom of our discussions and the idea we've had of promoting "partnerships" be formed to ease the shock for the citizenry at large when the virus starts to spread in this country. He then, in turn, discusses with us some of his thoughts. that the clothing exchange centers we all agree are such a good idea, must not include the most intimate of underwear, ladies panties or men's shorts for reasons of sanitation. Also that these centers be of a size sufficient to easily serve at least 500 people of each sex, preferably 1000, to help ensure a sufficient variety of size and selection. Later, during the full group's gathering, as committees are wont to do, a figure of 750 is agreed upon as the minimum number we suggest be served by any one clothing exchange center. We also inform them of next week's gathering in the White House of the folks from Hollywood and the major media and of the attempt to get them on our side for the psychological aspect of our attempt to prevent any large-scale panic by the public. Some discussion is then held on the matter of ID's and it's concluded that some form of National ID be made available, possibly at the clothing centers, which would include a new photo of the person in question, their SSN for transition purposes only with a life-span of say - six months. This would allow the States time to issue new ID's such as driver's licenses, using the individuals SSN for verification as to their prior rights and privileges. A possible new law would tie the carrying and usage of the National ID to each person's former ID's and licenses to "carry them over" to that person's new identity until new State forms could be issued. The Majority Leaders agree to the idea and say they'll get to work on drafting such a law immediately. Questions are then asked about the needs of the Military and we find that no one, other than myself, has the necessary security clearances to get into detail on this aspect so I tell the group I'll speak to the President about it since I'm about to leave for the White House to attend the next CIA briefing. I get to the White House about 20 minutes prior to the scheduled start of the meeting and heading straight to the Oval Office, let Injun's Secretary know I'm here. As soon as all the participants are on scene, Injun frees his time and calls us in to start the briefing. Key among the facts we're told is that the virus is spreading across Russia and that the first few cases have been reported just outside it's borders. Something called a "Spread Vector" has been created to use in tracking and predicting the spread of the virus and at the present time, it's estimated we have five or six weeks before it first arrives in the U.S. Not enough time, I say to myself, not nearly enough time to get everything into place we're going to need. The briefer explains that at present, this is only a rough estimate and a cautious one at that, it may take as long as two to two and a half months to get here. "More accurate predictions will be available as more data is included into the Vector." he explains. Meeting in his study with Injun right after the briefing, I give him the latest update of our progress and decisions, also telling him of the need for security clearances for the entire group which he says he'll take care of immediately. I then also ask him, "Injun, I think a few more of the group are going to need a PAC just due to the sensitivity of what they're going to have to deal with." "Okay, who?" "Well, Tom and Abbi for sure. They're going to deal with all the medical and psychological aspects of this and I know for sure that they're going to meet with resistance. The Colonel, too. Just to grant her authority higher than her rank so the old-line Generals and Admirals don't try to give her any shit. I don't know yet if Bill Allen from Justice will need one or not, so let's wait on him." "Okay, consider it done. I'll have a Secret Service agent get with each of them to explain the usage and give them their codes." This private briefing ended on that note and I headed back to our offices at Blair House. The passage of just a week has seen many of the programs we've planned coming into place. The clothing exchange centers are being set up, quietly and behind the scenes for now. Hollywood has come on board, enthusiastically I might add, and has already begun the campaign to subtly convince the public that to have a second chance at life, albeit as a member of the sex opposite that which they were born into, is both a good and desirable thing. Movies have been rushed into production, featuring the top male and female stars, showing just such a "chance" coming to fruition and using various and sundry themes to make such a thing both possible and desirable. This brings a totally new and seemingly impossible situation into being when religious leaders across the spectrum rise up in protest. Injun calls some of them to his office where we explain the realities of life to them and enlist their help. Jewish leaders join in right away, as do most other religions and denomination but the Catholic Cardinals say they must wait on Rome for direction. Injun persuades to to at least stop their protests from the pulpits until then, and their public demonstrations. As soon as he gets their agreements, he picks up the phone in their presence and puts in a call to the Pope, explaining the situation to him and agreeing to send the SecState to give him a full briefing. The Cardinals are stunned at the intimacy of the conversation that Injun's put on speakerphone, especially when the two world leaders use each other's real first names. At his request then, and the information that he is on speakerphone with his Cardinals he gives them oral direction to give the President anything and everything he asks for, in his name. The next morning's meeting of the "gang of six" finds Bill Allen reporting no problems getting the clothing exchange centers established across the country with the help of the FBI and U.S. Marshal's offices. Also, that staff personnel from the SS offices will take care of the ID problem as soon as the Congress gets the law passed and on Injun's desk for his signature. Tom reports that he, Abbi and our newest sub-committee person, a Dr. Judy Rodgers, have identified and isolated many of the issues the people will have in coming to grips with the sex changes we're assuming most of us will be affected with. The three of them, all either MD's or psychologists, are going to put together a cirriculum, so to speak, for the adjustment centers to use in helping people who need it. To further minimize the overall impact, it's their suggestion the adjustment centers be inside of or adjoining the clothing exchange centers to make it that much easier for all concerned. Later, in our sub-committee meeting, I go over the cirriculum with them, asking questions other lay people like myself may ask about it. Following are the points they've identified for each sex: For female to male - ? Loss of breasts ? External male genitalia ? Testicular sensitivity ? Short hair ? Facial hair - shaving ? Sexual intercourse - change of role ? Additional strength and power ? Clothing ? Height ? Mannerisms ? Different role in society at large For male to female - ? Breasts ? Loss of male genitalia ? Urination ? Menstrual periods ? Sexual intercourse - change of role ? Possible pregnancy and it's implications ? Shaving of the legs and underarms ? Loss of strength ? Height ? Clothing ? Longer hair - it's care and upkeep ? Makeup - wearing cosmetics ? Mannerisms ? Different role in society at large They've already agreed on these as the key factors for each sex and ask if I can think of any others I think should be added. "I can't think of anything else off hand, seems to me you guys and gals have it covered." "Ahh, there's something we may want to address, too. " The new Doctor adds. "Acceptable references to one's gender." Abbi immediately jumps in to say, "It's one's sex and I think we should let the public decide what's acceptable and what isn't. The government's role in this crisis isn't to set a moral or PC tone, that's something best left to the people." "But we can't have people running around hurting other's feelings, not with everything else they'll have to deal with." Tom and Abbi look at me with raised eyebrows, seeking my input on the subject so I decide the time is now to exert a bit of moral and legal authority. "Look, Doctor, first of all, this isn't the previous, fell-good Administration. This President, and I happen to agree with him, has already said many times that that PC crap is out-the- window and we'll have none of it. So if you can't live with that, I'll find someone else to replace you, it's your decision and I'd like it right here and now." "Are you telling me you're willing to let people do as they choose and say what they think about this horrible situation?" "Yes." "Good, I needed to hear that first-hand to know for myself such idiocy was a thing of the past. Count me in!" That evening, when Abbi and I are out for dinner, she brings up something I hadn't yet seen or thought of. "Art, I've noticed something among the group that kind of troubles me. It seems to me that most of us are seeing this virus as something that's going to infect and affect everyone else but not us, as individuals. Have you noticed this?" "Uumm, not really, no." "Well, Tom and I have both noticed it and I think we need to address it." "How?" "Will you let Tom and I bring it up tomorrow at the meeting and just follow our lead?" "Okay, I can do that much." That following morning, about half-way through the meeting and during Bill's telling us about his progress in getting the centers established, Tom interrupts him and asks him, "Which one are you going to use, Bill?" "Huh?" Bill says. "What do you mean?" "Just what I asked, which center are you going to use to exchange your clothes for skirts, dresses and bras? And have you decided yet where you're going to buy your panties?" "What the hell are you talking about, Tom?" Bill asks, showing sings of anger. "Bill, I mean no offense, please take it easy here. But look folks, Abbi and I have detected a certain reluctance among us to face the personal reality of this virus. Odds are that each and every one of us is going to catch and be affected by it and we're wondering if we have yet to face it personally. We're all adults here so I'm going to be very blunt about this. Guys, have you yet given any thought to losing your cocks and balls?" Abbi then chimes in to say, "And girls, how do you feel about gaining those very things and having them hang between you legs?" Tom says, "What's it going to be like, guys, to have tits and a pussy?" "Girls, "Abbi chimes in with, "what's it going to be like the first time we get a good hardon?" Time for me to butt in so I say, "Look folks, I think their point is this, quite simply we're going to have to start thinking of this crisis as a personal one as well as a National one. We've been doing great as bureaucrats but without much personal compassion or understanding. Personally, I'm kind of looking forward to finding out what life's like on the other side of the fence. Not that I've always been a closet transsexual or anything but as my best means to face the potentially inevitable fact that I most likely have little choice in the matter. If my fate is to lose my penis and testicles and have them replaced by breasts and a vagina, well. so be it. Such is life. I think it's about damned time we all start thinking about how it's going to affect us personally so we'll be better able and equipped to help our fellow man, or woman." To say the tenor of our meetings changed after this would be totally correct. That evening, after a quiet dinner at her place and lying in bed after making love, Abbi and I get into a really intense discussion about what likely lies ahead for us as individuals and the possible affects it will have on our growing relationship. Intense but also quite lighthearted and we tease one another about what we'll soon have to face and deal with in our lives. I ask her if she plans to write her name in the snow this winter. "Huh?" she responds. "With your pee, since you'll be able to aim it." Laughing aloud, she answers "Hell yes! And you'd better get used to the idea that you won't be able to anymore. Poor girl gonna have to sit down to pee all the time." "Yeah, I guess so. But I'll also be able to let you do all the work when we make love, too, so there are some compensations." "Art, seriously. have you given any thought to the reversal of our roles and how you'll feel and my penetrating you?" "Have you?" I ask her. "Yes, I have. I'll do my very best to make it a most pleasurable experience for you the first time we do it after we've changed." "Good, the though is kind of scary, you understand." I would imagine it is, not having grown up expecting such an experience. Being penetrated is, I would think, to a man, a rather scary thought." "Yeah, it is that. But at the same time, I kind of look forward to it, too." "Good, that's great. I can assure you it's a wonderful feeling to have a man's penis deep inside you." "Can't feel nearly as good as being inside a woman is to a man." "Don't count it but we'll sure be able to compare notes, now won't we?" she asks, reaching down to grasp my semi-hard cock. When I reach over to caress her left breast, Abbi moans softly and asks me "Do you want a big pair of boobs, Art, bigger than mine?" "Not necessarily, Abbi, whatever I get out of the deal will be just fine, I guess. But then again, if I'm gonna have them." "You men, you're all tit freaks. All you want is a woman with big boobs. I almost hope you do get a pair of D cups just so you'll know what we gals have gone through for centuries." "D's wouldn't be bad, I bet you'd love them if I do get a big pair of hooters." I tease her. "Yeah, just like you want me to end up with a seven inch dick, too, one that's nice and thick so it'll feel really good when I shove it deep inside your sopping wet pussy." In thinking about this conversation as I wait to fall asleep after making love to Abbi again, I can't help but think of the preparation we're helping each other make in anticipation of the changes we're likely to undergo, I'm almost looking forward to it now and I think she is too. Almost every thing either of us does these days that's even remotely gender specific is described aloud to the other in the most appealing manner in which we can express it, right as the act is being done. Mostly this is done each morning as we get dressed and ready to leave. Then again in the evening when we either undress or change clothes to go out and of course, while we're having sex. We're about three weeks plus a couple of days into the crisis and in the midst of one of our morning "gang of six": meetings when Carol, the Air Force Colonel, comes up with that turns out to be a brilliant idea. "Guys and gals, I've been thinking about a particular aspect of this situation for about a week and I think I have it fleshed out enough to explain it to all of you. Assuming, as we have, the inevitable. at some point the President his Cabinet, and Joint Chiefs, etc. and we six are all going to be hit with this thing, right? The question I've been mulling over is do we just let it happen or do we manage the event to our best advantage? We all know now that most of Easter Europe is already getting hit with the escaped virus, as well as western China and the majority of the Middle East. Here's my idea: let's get the President and say - half his Cabinet, half of the Joint Chiefs and so on, as well as us to fly to Europe quietly, get ourselves infected and return to one of the Presidential Hide-aways that are scattered around the country in case of a war or bio-attack. All of us, plus the flight crew, can wait there to let the virus run its course. As soon as we're back and safely inside this bunker, the President can address the Nation from there and let the people know at that point what preparations have been made, introduce us if he so chooses and let the people know at that point what's ahead. Then, all during the virus's run at us, the Vice-President, the rest of the Cabinet and if need be, the Supreme Court can watch it happen to us on closed circuit TV. That way they can certify that the President really is him, then herself. The rest of us will simply get a jump start on the rest of the country and being settled into our new roles and sex, we'll be better able to get back to business when the virus comes to us as a natural matter of course. What do you think?" After some brief discussion, some back-and-forth questioning as to logistics and so on, Carol's idea is agreed to and I immediately head for the White House to offer it up to the President. Almost before I have completely explained it to him, Injun agrees and sets the plan in motion. On the flight over, one more aspect is thought of and dealt with. clothing for all of us once the virus has done it's thing to us. The President is the one who thought of this little aspect and he's the one who solves it, too. "We'll just have the Government fly in some clothiers for both sexes and through the telephone and closed circuit TV, from on the other side of the barriers, we'll give them our new measurements and let them outfit us, all at the expense of the Government in return for the work everyone's done." I might mention here that we're making this trip on Air Force OneA, an unmarked other than U.S. Air Force decals and paint, shall we say "undercover" Presidential Aircraft used for secret missions abroad. On the outside, it appears to be just another Air Force 747 while the interior is appointed exactly like the more widely known public plane. When Abbi and I got ready for bed last night, while we made love and again as we made ready for this trip, we took out verbal descriptions game to new heights as we verbally shared with each other everything we were feeling, thinking, and experiencing at the moment of each occurrence. I can't possibly speak for the other passengers aboard this flight, but I really do think Abbi and I are as prepared as we can be for what is about to happen that will change our lives forever. Her verbal descriptions of dressing in, wearing, and taking off each and every article of her feminine clothing have me in a state of anxiousness, wanting to experience the sensuousity she's so aptly described to me. And her descriptions of how she feels when I touch and caress her, make love to her, enter her and posses her have me almost anxious to experience for myself each and every single sensation to see if it's anywhere close to as wonderful as she's described it. And yet, there is also deep within both of us, and freely admitted, a certain sense of sadness. Sadness over the impending loss of the state in which we've each spent all our lives thus far, of giving up what we've known so well as our own bodies and sexual roles. For myself, the impending loss of my cock and balls to be replaced with an empty crotch seems almost impossible to imagine. And there is the intense curiosity I have regarding the breasts I'll soon have jutting from my now hairy and quite flat chest. how large will they be? How heavy? The thought of having to wear a bra the rest of my life, of having them protrude from my chest for all to see so obviously. The worry I have about wearing and walking in high-heeled shoes, my legs nearly always clad in hose of some kind, partially exposed and needing to always remain aware of the need to not expose my crotch to people around me. Then there is my fear and worry about the fact that I will soon be subject to "The Curse", a menstrual cycle. Will mine be as easy to endure as Abbi's is for her? Little or no cramping, almost none of the bloating some women suffer from on a monthly basis? These things and so many more are concerns I have running through my mind now, even moreso than when this virus crisis first began. On the other hand, Abbi, too, has her concerns and has shared them with me as I have mine with her. Hers include a concern regarding her ability to get used having a male's organs dangling from in front of and between her legs, always in her way as she put it to me. The loss of her breasts, every woman's pride as she described them, also troubles her although gaining the ability to freely go topless does appeal to her, she's admitted. Losing her chance to have children as their Mother also concerns her a lot, as does the coming responsibility to father and support any children she may have as a man. She's told me many times how much she'll miss dressing up in pretty clothes, trips to her favorite beauty salon and so on, those facets of a woman's life I'll soon be able to experience for the very first time. I've not mentioned yet a thing about our ages and do feel it's about time I do so. Considering our hope to lose a few years each, I should say I'm 61 and Abbi is, as she puts it "a bit less than fifty". And a damned good-looking women for her age too, my Abbi, with breasts that have yet to sag and a body as tight as most teen-agers. Carol has found us U.S. Air Force Base in the Middle East that's already been hit by the virus as the best and most secretive place for the President and the rest of us to be exposed to the virus and this is where we land after a seven hour flight. For the purposes on continuing security, no one departs the aircraft and instead, Base Personnel are brought aboard to expose us to it. Also to give us some first-hand reports as to how the Military men and women are dealing with the change. For National Security reasons that should be obvious to everyone, our Military were given advance notice of this virus and it's affects so they could be as prepared as possible and better enabled to maintain our readiness to defend the Country as assigned. The Base Commander and his Deputy, formerly Female and Male respectively, have now been infected and changed so they make perfect interviewees. Each goes with those of their former sex to different parts of the plane to tell us of their experiences during and since their infections. What the Major tells us is a bit startling to me at least. "I knew it was coming, I thought I was fully resigned to it and ready for whatever effects it may have on me mentally, but guys, I was wrong. When I first woke up the morning after it did its thing to me, I was shocked beyond belief! Not so much at the fact I now have tits and a pussy, I expected that and was as ready for it as I could be, considering. No, that wasn't it at all. What really hit me hard was the combination of things coming at me all at once. This body, guys, a female body, feels so very, very different. so sexy and sensuous all the time it's hard for me to keep myself under control. I have to tell you, after all my years of trying to get women to go to bed with me, I wonder how in hell they ever said no. And these clothes, even this uniform, feel so great it's hard to explain. It's taken me a week or so to get used to wearing lipstick and makeup, let alone the hang of putting the stuff on all the time, but now I just love it. Gentlemen, all I can say is that you have a real treat ahead of you, and one I hope you'll all love and enjoy as much as I do." I found out later, from Abbi, that the Colonel, now a man, told the women much the same things and even admitted to them that contrary to Air Force Regulations, he and the Major have slept together several times. They've simply been unable to stop themselves. His descriptions of how it felt as a guy have Abbi as aroused as I've ever seen her outside of our bed. At Injun's order, we remain on in the plane and parked on the base until all of us start to exhibit the flu-like symptoms that assure we've all been infected before refueling and taking off home and the bunker we're going to stay in at first. Upon landing at the nearest field to the bunker that's able to handle the 747, we all don Bio-hazard suits before we deplane, to protect the others who are there to take us to the bunker. Washed down and de- contaminated, we climb into trucks for the hours drive to the bunker where we're able to get out and head inside, the heavy doors clanging shut behind us before we're allowed to get out of these damned suits and head off to our quarters for the next few weeks or month. Wives, husbands and girl or boyfriends have also been brought to the bunker in line with our plan that all people partner up with a member of the opposite sex to help them get through the changes. Abbi and I are a known "item" now so we head off down a long hallway to the suite of rooms we're going to share while we're stuck in this place. The plan is to bring in some additional medical personnel tomorrow or the next day, whose cycle of being infected will thus be a day or two off from ours, to help us through the sickest parts of our illnesses. It's now known, based on reports from abroad, that the night of change takes places on the third day after the first signs of flu-like symptoms are observed. Not surprisingly then, most all of us start to sneeze and suffer slight headaches around dinnertime that first night after arriving home. This starts our personal countdowns to three nights from this one, and the morning of the following day. Reports are that each day gets progressively worse, symptom-wise, until each person is really, really sick and in bed. When they awake of the fourth day, however, they feel great and all symptoms have passed other than the key effects of this insidious virus; their new ages and sex. If for no other reason than old-times sake, Abbi and I make love one last time that night, in spite of the fact that neither of us really feels like it. Lying together in bed afterwards, between sniffles and sneezes, we talk about our future, not only as a couple but after the change. Abbi> "I really wonder what it's going to be like Art." Me> "Same here, sweety. I still find it hard to imagine." Abbi> "Yeah, me too. But that Colonel sure seemed to like being a guy, hope I like it as much." Me> "Yeah, so did the Major like being a woman. She even admitted she was almost insatiable." Abbi> "Well I sure hope you are, I love making love with you like this, maybe I'll like the other way, too." Me> "If I'm insatiable, you'd better. I'd hate to have to find a new lover just to satisfy me." The conversation continued in this vein until we fell asleep with her head on my arm. The following two days are little more than a blur in my memory only because I don't think I've ever been so sick in my life. We found out later the reason everyone is so laid-out with this virus, it's because it's re-writing our genetic codes as it works it way toward that third night when it all happens overnight. "And on the fourth day, they awoke." Just a little joke to imply the significance of awakening the morning after we'd been changed. As my eyes slowly opened, it was to a face full of light, reddish-blond hair although I didn't know this just yet, only that it was all over my face and eyes. And when I bring a hand up to move it aside so I might see, I darn near poke myself in the eye with my fingernails which are much longer than I've ever kept them. Funny, the colors in the room are a bit off from how I remember them, slightly more vivid, if anything. Then I remember. has it happened? Am I a girl now? Lying on my back which is itself unusual (I normally wake up on my right side), I try to take a mental inventory before I move any part of me. Does anything feel different, unusual or out of place? Hmm, the bed seems longer, or am I just shorter? Last night my feet touched the footboard of the bed but not now. Back to me. can I feel anything on my chest? Not really. between my legs? Well, no, nothing. Tensing my groin muscles like I've done so many times before when taking a leak or just trying to make my cock twitch, I feel nothing. not a damn thing moves. Am I one of the 20% who is immune to this thing? Did I or didn't I change? Beneath the covers still, I raise both hands up toward my chest, wondering if I'll find a pair of boobs or just the same old flat hairiness. Oh wow, tits, and big ones, too, if they're as large as they feel. I wonder why I didn't feel them there when I tried? Oh well, they're there and that's what matters. I wonder. sliding one hand downward, I place it between my legs and find it covers the soft, warm emptiness of the female pubes. The little mound I've always found and thought so beautiful on a woman now lies nestled between my legs. Suddenly I'm struck with a mild sense of panic, how am I going to deal with these things, with being a woman? Will it be as wonderful to be a woman as Abbi has described it to me? Will I enjoy it as much as that Major said she does? Will I be as sexually insatiable as she described herself to be? Controlling my own intense curiosity for the time being, I realize my bladder is crying out to be emptied and as gently and quietly as I can manage, I slip out of bed and head to the bathroom, extremely conscious of the different sensations walking about in this new body provides me. Of the considerable jiggle and sway of the twin mounds of womanflesh that now protrude and hang from my chest. Also of the total absence of there being anything external between my legs now. All of these new and utterly different sensations nearly overwhelm me as I navigate the few short steps into the bathroom. Almost subconsciously realizing I can no longer stand in front of the commode to pee, I sit down upon it instead and after just a few brief moments of trying, I find the right muscles needed to let loose. Man, what a different sensation this is than before, now totally internal and with an almost erotic feel to it. Taking a moment before I wipe and stand back up, I look down between my legs and find it almost amusing to see so little. No longer are the male organs I've been so used too for over 60 years anywhere to be seen, only a soft wavy triangle of reddish-blond pubic hairs that barely hide the beginning of me new feminine slit. My stomach, at least what I can see of it between the seemingly huge twin mounds of my new breasts, is flat and tight, although the flaring of my hips does indicate overly abundant feminine hips and backside. Looking more closely now at my new boobs, it's hard to gauge their size other than in comparison to the rest of me, and they're large in that respect, very large. And quite firm, too, thankfully. And my nipples! Wow, are they big and protrubent, too. The areola that surround them look to be at least an inch and a half, maybe two inches in diameter and a bright pinkish color and darker than the rest of my breasts, of course. Wiping myself down there before I stand back up, I flush the commode and walk over to the sink to see what I look like now. Oh my gawd, I'm gorgeous! I mean like really, really beautiful! My hair is reddish-blond just like my pubic hair and slightly past shoulder length, my eyes are a bright, very intense green, I have high cheekbones and full, pouty lips that will look wonderful when I have lipstick on. High, thin eyebrows and thick full lashes complete a totally beautiful face that just begs to be properly made up. I can't see much more of me in the mirror over the bathroom sink than almost to my waist but I will say that what I can see is deliciously gorgeous. Turning this way and that to see my reflection from every side, I quickly realize I've been blessed looks-wise with the appearance, body and beauty of a Playboy Centerfold. Especially these tits of mine, they're perfect! Quietly then, I reopen the door back into the bedroom and look to see if Abbi, I mean whatever he will decide to call himself, is awake yet. Giggling to myself when I peek around the corner to see movement around where his crotch has to be under the covers, I ask him aloud "How does that thing feel?" just as I walk back into the bedroom bare-assed naked. "Whoa," he says, "you look terrific, girl!" "You like?" I ask as I turn around slowly for him to see all of me. "Oh gawd yes, you're absolutely gorgeous." Then how about you let me take a good look at you?" I say as I walk around to his side of the bed. Throwing the covers aside, he lies there naked and I can't help but thank the mad inventor of this virus, he's so damned handsome. Broad shoulders and well muscled with being grossly so but it's what lies between his legs that utterly and completely fascinates me. Fully erect, he's huge. at least the seven inches we joked about and with testicles the size of golf-balls, tight against his groin. This damned virus has to have affected my sexual wiring, too, if only because I'm so drawn to his maleness. It's as though I could almost devour him, surround him with all of myself and surrender myself to him totally and completely. The exact opposite of how I used to feel when I was a guy with a woman. What a difference it is, too, this sensation. so unlike and yet so similar to what I used to experience. I want to be with him so desperately (knowing as I do it's really Abbi lying there), but to take him unto me, to give myself to him, to allow him between my legs and to let him make love to me. "Can I. I mean, I want to, uh, oh shit, Abbi, can I touch you?" I ask him. "If you don't, I'm going to have to get myself off." He jokes. Giggling, I tell him, "That's my job now, baby." Kneeling beside the bed, I cautiously reach over to put my hand on his erection, amazed and suddenly a bit apprehensive at the feel of it's size in my now much smaller hand. It's so big and so thick in my hand. And yet, in looking at it, I know he's not really so large that I shouldn't be able to take him inside of me easily. In spite of myself and all my years as a guy, I find myself drawn to his hard cock in a manner I'd never have imagined possible for me to be. I find myself wanting to taste him, to draw him between my lips and deep into my mouth and throat. Crawling up onto the bed without once letting go of his cock, I turn to place my ass toward the head of the bed and leaning down, kiss the tip of his new erection with all the love and desire I feel for him. "Can I have a go at you, too" he asks me? "I thought you'd never ask." I respond giggling in spite of myself. Moving about on the bed then, I end up with on knee of either side of his face, my pussy directly in front of it as I look back between them, adjusting my position as he directs to put myself where he can get at me the easiest. Then I wait for the feel of his lips and tongue down there before lowering my face back down to his groin. I soon find myself lost in the most delightful, and sensuously erotic sensations I've ever experienced when his mouth, lips and tongue are busily engaged in licking and eating my pussy while I try my damndest to devour his deliciously hard cock. As wonderful as this is, however, it's not really what ever of us wants the most this morning of our re-birth. Both of us really wants to consummate this wonderful morning in the more traditional manner, with him buried inside of me. As I move away from him and begin to turn around so I might lie beside him, I'm aware for the very first time of that sensation Abbi tried so hard to describe to me, the one that women experience when they're fully aroused wherein they feel a craving to be filled. Every part of me feels this craving, too, from the ache in my tits I want so desperately to be fondled and sucked upon to the "flowering" she tried to describe to me, the swelling a woman has in her outer labia as they fill with blood and open up to accept the man's penis between and inside of them. The wetness I have down there is also obvious to me now, and I ask him to take it slow so I might enjoy this first time with a man to the fullest extent possible. Rolling onto his side beside me, his hand reaches over to cover and hold my breast, my nipples hardening even further with his touch. His upper leg raises and falls across mine, his erection pressing itself against my upper thigh so deliciously. He kisses me, gently at first but with the parting of my lips, out tongues entwine and he gently pinches my nipple, which feels so wonderful I let a small, soft moan pass between our lips and into his mouth. Raising my ass from the bed slightly, I rub my pussy against his leg, my clitoris throbbing as I seek some small relief. His lips leave mine to travel down my neck ever so slowly, so maddeningly. He licks my earlobe, my neck, kissing them, grazing them so softly with his lips that I think I'll lose my mind for want of him. Down slowly along my neck, my upper chest until his kisses reach my aching breasts and then, finally surround my tightly erect left nipple. Kissing it, sucking on it, biting it just hard enough to cause me to cry aloud in utter delight. Then his hand leaves my right breast while his lips remain on my left one, moving down across my stomach slowly, headed inevitably to my crotch. I part my legs further, granting him full access to the seat of newly gifted womanhood, now wet and swollen with desire. Sliding my hand down and between us, I grasp his hard erection and squeeze it, letting him know as I do that I'm willing and almost ready. I cannot put into words how what he began to do to me next felt, not the incredible power of the sensations he gave me as he played with my pussy. Let it suffice that these sensations alone were enough to fully convince me that being female is far more wonderful than I'd ever imagined it could be and that I am indescribably happy to be a woman now and hopefully, forevermore! Knowing Abbi as I do, he's waiting for me to let him know I'm ready for him, ready to take him between my legs and unto myself. But instead of giving in right away to these delicious sensations, I try to let them last longer, holding off with all my willpower before giving myself to him completely. But finally I can stand it no longer, I simply have to have him inside of me, fucking me. So pulling on his cock, pulling it toward my waiting pussy, I tell him silently that it's time, that I'm ready for him to mount me. Grinning down at me as he lifts up to rise above me, he says softly, "I want you so much." "I want you too, my sweet." I respond. Holding his hard, velvet smooth erection in hand, I guide him to and inside of me, the feel of just that first inch or so totally indescribable. Gently then, and slowly, he presses himself deeper into me, inch by inch until surprisingly to both of us, he meets resistance. "My gawd, you're a virgin." He says "Good, then I'll have that experience too, of losing my cherry. Go ahead, Honey, bust it for me, make me a complete woman." Nothing further is said then, not even when he presses himself forward a I'm hit with a very sharp, albeit brief, pain and I lose my virginity to him. And after that, it's nothing but sublime and total pleasure that is far beyond my ability to describe. To expect us to achieve orgasm together was, in my view, an impossible dream and it didn't happen, either. Instead, I got off first, just a scant moment before I vaguely remember him exploding deep inside of me as the most powerful, earth-shattering orgasm I've ever before experienced came crashing down upon me, washing over me in wave after delicious wave of pure and total bliss. Afterwards, I just lay there beside him, my head upon his chest as we both regained some measure of our senses and I have my first experience with a woman's afterglow. Needless to say, I also get the proverbial wet spot under my butt, too, but it's more than worth it for the joy and happiness I'm so filled with right now. Just then, at the most inopportune time possible, there's a knock on the door of our quarters. He jumps out of bed and wraps a towel around his waist while I pull the covers up to cover my chest. Opening the door, he finds a package outside it on the floor that he picks up and brings inside before closing the door. Bringing it over to the bed since it's addressed to me as Art, he lets me open it. It's from Injun. The note (on Presidential stationary) says "For you folks to wear until we get some clothiers to come by." Inside the box itself, we find two pair of shorts and two tee shirts, all with the Presidential Seal emblazoned on them. Also three pair of various size panties that are stretchy enough that one pair will likely fit almost any woman, plain white cotton but good enough for now until I can get the kind I prefer, satin or nylon. Kind of the same thing for him, men's underwear in several different sizes. No bra for me though and he kids me about it saying, "Looks like you're going to just have to let them bounce and jiggle, babe, that'll drive the guys nuts with those big hooters of yours." "Oh hush. " I tease him, "You're just jealous!" "Not really, I think I like 'em better from this side of the fence." "Me too." I tease back, giggling as I cup them in my hands and point them at him. "Okay, girl, now it's time for your first lesson in feminine cleanliness, follow me to the bathroom." He says. Once there, he opens a small package he'd brought in his purse that runs out to be a douche kit. Giving me step by step instructions how to prepare and use it, he watches while I flush the inside of my vagina to rid it of the leftovers from our lovemaking. "You should do this as soon as it's practical after each time we make love, even if it's the following morning. It'll help keep you fresh as we gals call it." "Understood, and now it's time you washed the love pole, too. Otherwise it'll get all sticky and yucky." I say, giggling again. Back in the bedroom after we've cleaned up, I notice how hungry I am which is no wonder, considering this mornings romp and the fact neither of us has eaten for two days. So I suggest we put Injun's gifts on and go rustle up something to eat. "Okay, but let's see what you can do first to make yourself more presentable." He suggests. He's right, too, for when I glance at the mirror I see a girl with that just fucked look written all over her pretty face, her hair a mess. It's the hair that concerns me most, I could care less who knows we made love this morning and I'd bet we're not the only ones, either. He digs a hairbrush out of the purse he'd carried and hands it to me saying, "Have fun." I grab the purse itself and before he can say or do anything, run into the bathroom with it. I know Abbi used to carry a few cosmetics with her all the time and I want to see if I can use them. I don't know if, I and really doubt I can wear any of her colors because I look so little like her. Maybe just some lipstick if I'm lucky. First though, I have to do something with all this hair. About fifteen minutes later I emerge from the bathroom, my hair brushed out and held up in a ponytail with one of those scrunchy things women always seem to carry around with them. I even found a shade of her lipstick that I look good in, a pale red with a brownish cast to it that goes well with my hair. The taste of it on my lips is strange but somehow comforting, too, if only because it tastes good and.feels so nice on my lips. He's found something else in the box Injun sent us, stretchy slippers we can wear instead of our having to go barefoot. Also a map of this place showing where our rooms are in relation to everything else hidden away in this bunker. I find the dining area first since by now I'm starving and find that right beside it is a small drug store/commissary we can look around in after we've had breakfast. "Okay bud, time for us to get ourselves dressed, this girl is positively starving." I tell him. So reaching across the bed where I'd previously laid the female contents of Injun's gift box, I grab all the pair of panties to see which ones will fit this big, beautiful ass of mine. Not the smallest ones, for sure but likely the mid-sized pair. Still seated, I put my feet into them and stand up to pull them up and on. Oh wow, does this feel good or what? I love how it feels with them pulled up tight against my pussy like this. So much so that I can't help but giggle aloud again which makes him ask me what's so funny. "It's how these panties feel, babe. I love it!" "You would, you horny wench." He teases me. "Yep, that's me allright." I tease back. The shorts, when I put them on, aren't as tight and form fitting as I would have maybe preferred but they're definitely cut and styled for a woman's hips and behind, thankfully. The waistline is so much higher, too, I notice, much higher than a man's. When I slip the tee shirt on over my head and pull it down across my boobs, I happen to look into the mirror and find that even at rest, my nipples are quite obvious. I know most women would and do almost anything to conceal their nipples if they happened to be braless as I am now, but for some reason and unlike I may have thought I'd be, I really don't mind that they're so easily visible. In fact, in a way, I'm glad they are. I wonder if any of the other new girls will feel the same way? Leaving our quarters as soon as we're dressed, we head for the dining hall as indicated on the map we were given, arriving just a few minutes later. At the doorway sits some guy I've never seen before who asks for our SSN, former and current first as well as out last names. Giving him my SSN, I without thinking at all about it, blurt out "Abbi" as my new first name and Art as my former one. Checking them against a list he has on the table in front of him, he checks me off, then picks up one of those Dymo Labelmakers he then uses to make me a name tag. It reads like this "Abbi (Art) and my last name." Cool, huh? Behind me, he does much the same thing, adopting my old name as his new one, I guess the ultimate compliment, no? Although there are a number of other people already here in the dining hall, I recognize none of them, not at all unexpectedly when one stops to think about it. I must say, however, that every single person I see is young and very good-looking so it seems this virus has hit most, if not all of us with equal grace and benevolence. As I move along the line choosing what to eat just in front of Art, I think back to how my breasts jiggled and swayed as we walked to get here, and of the empty feeling between my legs, sensations I'm experiencing even now. how wonderful they are in a strange sort of way and yet how weird they would feel to me absent Art's being with me before as Abbi and how we each did our best to help the other look forward to these feelings. I don't know how I'd feel right now without that preparation we took. Nor, I imagine, does he. But I can and will say I have no regrets, especially after our little romp earlier this morning. Sex really is wonderful for girls, I know this now. Just after Art and I have started eating, I see a lovely young Indian woman headed toward out table. It has to be Injun, he was the only American Indian among us. Properly, Art stands up as she gets close and I say to her, "Miss President, good morning" "Oh shut up, white girl!" he answers, so typically. "Okay, you red-assed broad!" Art looks at both of us with a totally stunned expression on his ruggedly handsome face, wondering at the exchange between myself and the President of the United States that just took place. I then inform him, for the very first time, of our relationship. To say he's amazed would be to understate the obvious for if nothing else, this President is known to be nearly unapproachable by those who don't know him well. That I am among that small, tight circle is something none of those of us who are ever speak of to others, until now. Injun then surprises us both, as he often does, when he says to me, "You look like you got lucky, get some did ya?" Feigning shock, I respond with, "Miss President!" She just laughs, much as I knew she would. I have to explain to Art that this is not at all unusual for a conversation between the President and myself, knowing one another for as long as we have. His professionalism as a Doctor quickly rises as he makes an observation that the relationship between the two sexes may forever be changed as a result of the virus. Injun says simply, "I think so too. Work on it for us, will you? Let me know what you find out." "Will do, Injun." I answer. Browsing through the commissary after we've eaten, I find a few things I want and when I look around for the register or a clerk, I see a small sign saying to just take whatever we think we'll need or want. Pity there are so few cosmetics available although I do find a few things I might be able to wear, also some thingies for my hair as well as some shampoo and conditioner. Just as I'm lamenting to Art about the lack of any kind of clothing, an announcement comes in over a loudspeaker system asking everyone to report to the assembly hall. Once we make our way there, we find tables are stacked with all manner of clothing catalogs and there's also a pile of tape measures lying next to them. Injun's standing on a small platform and using a microphone, tells us all to take a set of each of the books back to our quarters along with a tape measure and to use them to find out our sizes. We're then to make a list, no matter how long th