FemCorps: The Beginning free porn video

FemCorps: The Beginning by Sarah Barndt "As a scientist, my greatest fear had always been the world's ability to take any invention or discovery, no matter how well intentioned, and turn it something deadly. I know now that the greatest danger is the world's ability to turn it into something ridiculous." - Dr.Gustav Pedersen at the Nobel awards, 1996. The following passage is from the Encyclopaedia Humanae; 128th edition, copyright MMIV. "Dr. Gustav Pedersen developed Chromozine22B to provide a safe way to determine the gender of fetuses. He believed that it was the ancient bigotry favoring sons that led to over-population in the developing world, and he feared it led to infanticide in those countries that had adopted strict limits to the number of children a family could have. A cheap means to guarantee a son would stop much of this suffering. He sold the drug to Marsh Pharmaceuticals for $1.00. Marsh, however, discovered the drug had a side-effect. It caused a 20 to 50 percent enlargement of the male genitals. This only occurred with Chromozine22Y, the derivative which caused male fetuses. They marketed the drug as a safe, inexpensive method of penis enlargement. Needless to say, Marsh Pharmaceuticals became the richest corporation in the world. Like the birth control pill of the 1960's, Chromozine22 caused a social displacement. Men married later in life, secure in their ability to have a son at will. Women became more subservient and docile. It is believed this was caused the increase in the frequency and intensity of their orgasms. As expected, sales of men's pants and underwear shot up briefly (no pun intended) as the men replaced now, ill fitting clothes. An unexpected economic effect was a 87% drop in the sale of sports cars, and the NRA almost ceased to exist. Within a generation, however, the male/female ratio had shifted from almost 50/50 to more than 70/30. As the number of women decreased, malls began to go out of business. There was now a shortage of females for horny, well hung men. Ironically, homosexuality was not perceived as an option. Chromozine22 enhanced the mating drive, too. Women were virtually driven from public life and expected to return to 'traditional' female roles so as not to compete with men for jobs, and presumably, get married, stay home and have daughters. Marsh Pharmaceuticals developed a 'solution', a drug to turn men into women. They hoped to duplicate their financial success with Chromozine22. The public was outraged. A class action suit was brought against Marsh by the ACLU, NRA, NOW, Porsche, Ferarri, and Bloomingdales. They won. Marsh Pharmaceuticals was ordered to set up a revolving fund to pay men to become women and housewives. And so the FemCorps was started. Any healthy man could volunteer to become a woman. He, she, would receive a generous annuity which would increase with each daughter she bore (fathered by men using Chromozine22X, the derivative which produced female fetuses), and free medical care, for life. She also had to agree to stay out of the job market. The ratios have been trending back to normal but it is too .................." I re-read the pamphlet for the millionth time. Was I doing the right thing? My friends were all going to college next year. I always found school difficult. I wasn't a screw-up. I just wasn't very smart, I guess. Even my friend Jake, who was a major screw-up, was going to the community college for a year to get his grades up. Screw-ups can change their ways, but dumb is forever. I was kind of a runt, too. Just 5'7 and 110 pounds, so a trade like plumbing or carpentry would be hard for me, physically. My only real future was a career in retail food marketing (You want fries with that?), video rental customer interface technician (Have it back by Thursday and please rewind) or.......... the FemCorps. I had been thinking about it ever since they started, 4 years ago. Don't get me wrong. I'm straight. I love girls... crave girls, but with men outnumbering women better than 2 to 1, they can afford to be choosy. I had to face it. Poor, unattractive guys don't make the cut. In four years of high school not one girl had ever accepted a date from me. Not even the ugly girls. That would be the story of my life unless I scored some major bucks somehow. I didn't have the nerve for crime so I was doomed to involuntary celibacy. After a while I began to resent how unattractive girls still had their choice of dates, then I guess a form of Stockholm Syndrome took effect. I began to identify with them. If I joined FemCorps I'D be the one with more dates than I knew what to do with. I never told my buddies that I had applied. I didn't tell them when I was accepted either. I wasn't sure when I would tell them but I knew that it would be easier after I was female. Heck, my whole life would be easier after I was female. At least, that is what I hoped. Part 2 High School graduation came and went without much fanfare. Only Greg had a date for the prom, but he was good looking and from a well off family, a real catch. At least he would have been in the 'good old days'. His date, Marcy, was OK looking, but besides being a sophomore, had a big nose and small boobs. Greg was thrilled anyway. None of the senior boys had dates from our class. All the girls, about to be inducted into a life of idle luxury upon graduation, were there with their fiancees or boy friends. All older, successful men. The queen bees and their mates. The FemCorps program included natural women, too. They got paid to stay at home and an income for life for every daughter they bore. Max and Jake went stag and they only danced, once, with Marcy while Greg was outside having a drink. I stayed home. The guys thought it was because I didn't expect to dance with anyone. Actually, I was too afraid to see what my future was going to be like. All the girls would be dressed up and flirting shamelessly; sticking out their boobs and wiggling their asses to turn on all the guys. That could be me soon. I wasn't sure how much conversion effected your head, but it was a sure thing I'd see things differently after I got my new pussy. Would I become some stuck up bitch, too? Shoving my tits into everyone's face; drooling over my studly fiancie and making all the lesser males feel like crap? I hoped not, but I couldn't be sure. I was afraid one of them would piss me off and I would reveal I was joining them, before I was ready to tell everyone. My friends were drifting out of my life already. I really didn't want to do this but all the other possible futures were pretty bleak. I was an undesirable male; superfluous; surplus. But as a woman... I'd be popular; needed; special. It would be so worth it. Wouldn't it? The summer was uneventful, too. I worked part time at a video store, and led everyone to believe I was trying for management-trainee. I met the guys at the town pool and ogled the ladies. Occasionally I would think of myself NEXT summer as an oglee and shudder. Nobody ever noticed. Guys are like that. Memorial Day, 4th of July and Labor Day all passed in a stately parade. I barely noticed. I seemed to be marking time. No, I WAS marking time. We all talked about our futures and theirs didn't include me. Heck, mine didn't include me. I was making it all up. Eventually Greg and Max left for college. Jake was so busy with his community college classes we didn't see much of each other. He really wanted to do well and he had never really studied before. It was quite a drain on his time. It was time. I called FemCorps and told them I was ready to start. The goodies started early. A limo came to my house to pick me up and take me to the conversion center. My Mom was crying, but my Dad was happy in a way. He knew how tough life could be for men, these days. As much as he hated losing his son, he told me he was actually glad I was going to make a nice life for myself; maybe have a family. Things we both knew wouldn't be possible otherwise. He was a very good looking man, with a respectable job, and treated my mom like a princess. How else could he get a pretty wife like my mom. He never expected me to be able to live his kind of life, but never said anything. He always said things like "You're welcome to live at home as long as you want, until you get yourself established." Things like that. I always loved him for that. I almost cried for joy, but didn't. I'd have a lifetime of teary interludes ahead me. No use starting now. Be a man... while I still could. The Conversion Center was a pleasant place. It didn't look much like a hospital. I spent the next 2 days filling out forms and attending lectures about how to fill out forms. I would leave here a biological female, and a legal female. I needed a new name. At my mom's request I chose Melinda. That was followed by 2 more days of medical tests. On the morning of the fifth day they were ready to change me. Needless to say I was scared. I was given a mild sedative and asked to strip. They had me lay on a padded examination table and gave me a spinal block. Then they unfolded gynecological stirrups and strapped my legs in. Lastly, the doctor came in and injected the DNA altering serum into my testicles. I didn't feel anything, thanks to the block, but I gasped as the needles entered anyway, and began to cry softly.... anyway. A medical assistant (no man would call himself a nurse) stayed with me for the next several hours as my testicles mutated into ovaries and migrated up into my abdominal cavity. They had removed the spinal block so I was able to feel my penis pull inside and my uterus growing inside me. It didn't hurt at all but it was still terrifying because I knew what was happening to me. I was becoming a female. I'd spend the rest of life spreading my legs for some man and squirting out babies. In between I'd have PMS. In conversations with men I'd be ignored and assumed too uneducated to have any opinions. I couldn't pursue any kind of career. All I could do was BE a biological female; my main duty to keep house and bear daughters. Like some farm animal. What had I done! Why hadn't I, at least, attempted junior college. In a blazing moment of lucidity I realized this was terrible mistake. I hadn't wanted comfort- I had wanted respect and now I could NEVER have it. I began to sob as I realized it was already too late. I was a... girl now. The doctor came in and gave me first pelvic exam. "You're all done, honey. And you're in perfect health. Congratulations," he said as he was pulling off the world's coldest rubber glove. Yes. I was all done. I was a 'honey', too. Soon also to be a babe, chick, sweety, lady, sugar, Miss, M'am and the ever popular Toots. Of course, that was just in polite conversation. There were other names men used when women weren't around. Later on, back in my room, I explored my new sex. It was scary. My crotch was as smooth and hairless as a ... as a little girl. I was actually pre-pubescent so touching myself really didn't do anything for me. Yet. That night I slept fitfully. There was no discomfort, but my lack of balls was very unsettling, and my first urination is better left to your imagination. Physically I still looked like myself, except I had a vagina instead of testicles and a penis. My hormones were like a girl just before puberty. This was as 'girly' as the process could make me. My DNA had been altered into the female version of myself. Some gender related traits might express themselves or go away, like hair or eye color, but that was all. The rest was up to my genetics and the estrogen my body would start producing soon. They gave me some books about my feminine biology, fashion & grooming and one about what I could expect over the next few months. My body would be completely feminized within a year, though I might get shorter and that could take up to 2 years. They also gave me some cosmetics samples, and tampons. The next day I signed my W-4 form as Melinda Annette Crenshaw and received my new ID cards and first pay check. Wow! This was OK. I was rich! All it cost was my balls. I was making a respectable percentage of what my Dad made already. And after each daughter it would go up by the same amount! Each d-d- daughter ........... oops. I got light-headed for a moment. I returned home dressed as I had left. Other than my groin there was nothing feminine about my appearance. I decided to dress in my old clothes until... until they didn't fit anymore. The only thing I had to remember was I was legally female now so I had sign anything like credit card receipts and stuff, as Melinda, and I couldn't go topless in public or use public men's rooms. Later that day I went out to the pool in our backyard. I was wearing one of my usual baggy swim trunks. They felt really weird with my empty crotch. Mom came by and told me to put on a shirt or something. "You can't go topless anymore, honey." Why did she have to call me 'honey'. It had never seemed like a big deal before, but it bothered me I couldn't go topless anymore. I put on a shirt. We 'ladies' must be modest. The biggest change to my life was I had nothing to do all day. I kept up my morning jog but I had to be sure to wear shorts that were baggy in the crotch, to hide my new smoothness. I ended up putting a balled up sock in there, just to be sure. My bones would be de-calcifying over the next couple of years so I had to drink 3 large glasses of water every day to avoid kidney stones. I got used to peeing sitting down real quick. Practice makes perfect. Right? I saw Jake, mostly on weekends. We still did the same stuff, hung around, went to movies, drooled over girls. Of course, now it was a bit of an act for me. My male hormones were passing out of my body and no female hormones had started yet. I was turning neutral, I guess. Girls were losing their attraction for me, but, thankfully, I had no interest in men either. The one physical change that worried me was my beard was thinning more each day. After a month I really didn't have a beard anymore and I was shedding body hair like a Persian cat on an expensive sofa. Jake was too into scoping out the babes to pay any attention to my appearance. His comments about 'nice tits' or 'look at that ass' were beginning to disturb me, but I hid it. I used to talk like that, too. The real test came when Greg and Max came home for a weekend. Max slapped me on the back and said," Looking soft, dude. That office job must be getting to you." My eyes went wide at the comment. Someone had noticed something different about me. No one said anything else so I was sure no one suspected the truth, for now anyway. I said I was at a desk all day and promised to work out more. They invited me and Jake to visit them at State for Homecoming the next weekend. We both agreed to go. After they returned to school I gave myself a stern appraisal. Max was right. My muscles were softer, and slightly smaller, too. I looked like my Adam's Apple was less pronounced. No one had noticed that. The books said it was part of my change and would effect my voice. One last thing I had to check. Yep. My pubic hair was growing back. There was some noticeable fuzz down there. Great. The external changes were starting. I had hoped for more time. Part 3 During the next week my new pubes grew in. It wasn't excessive growth but I checked every day. There was also some fuzz on my pits now. What if my skeleton started to change. They said that might cause some discomfort, maybe bed rest, but no. That part wouldn't begin until after I began menstruating. Oh, goody. That's two reasons I'm glad I'm not menstruating. The other thing that worried me was my Adam's Apple seemed smaller. It was never very prominent to begin with but it had become barely noticeable. I wondered if my voice was changing. It's so hard to tell with your own voice. My skin was like a baby's and I no longer had to shave my face. I would have to fake it during my weekend visit to State. On Thursday I was taking my usual jog and passed a school playground. I heard a voice call, "Hey kid! Wanna play?" It took a moment to understand they meant me. It was 5 boys, no more than 12 from the looks of them, and they had a basketball. Obviously my smooth, soft skin and slight build had them thinking I was a young boy, too. Great. But for some reason I really wanted to play. I had a feeling I wasn't going to be asked to play basketball too much longer. I went over and joined them. I even got to choose a team. That had never happened before. I may have had a youthful look but I still had my 19 year-olds co-ordination, skills and experience. I rocked, and I had never felt so limber. Once I made a long reach for the ball and ended up doing a split. I should have been in agony, but I wasn't hurt at all. That was one advantage to losing my balls. They were too young to notice that. I said to goodbye and went home. They said I could play any time. I said I'd see them again sometime, but somehow I knew that was my last basketball game. The game left me more tired than I thought I should be. I drove Jake and me up to State for our big weekend. It was good to get away. Mom and I had been getting on each other's nerves lately. She kept chiding me for having my usual meals. She kept saying I'd 'be sorry someday'. What did she know. I jogged everyday and was as active as ever. Where was the problem. I had just bought a new car. I could afford it now, easily. I told Jake my Dad had co-signed for the loan. The only thing wrong with the car was it wasn't the one I wanted. I had been looking at a high performance sports coupe, one I had dreamed of owning ever since I was 12. Now I could afford one. I was really excited. Everything was going well until I had to sign the papers. Up to now I had let the salesman think I was still a male, but this was a legal document so I had reveal I was Melinda Annette Crenshaw. That's when the trouble started. He looked at my signature and social security number and ran them through the old computer net to make sure I was good for the money, or so I thought. He looked at me and said, "I can't sell you a car like that, miss. As a woman, you're a very valuable commodity and must be protected. Here, these cars are on the approved list for women. I'm sorry but it's the law." This pissed me off more than my mom telling me to cover my chest. I finally have the bucks I need to get my dream car and I can't have it. This was so unfair! I called FemCorps to check this out and they confirmed it was true. I ended up getting a 4-door sedan with a plush interior and moon roof. It sucked but I really wanted my own car. At least the stereo was primo. We arrived at the campus on time, though I had missed a couple of turns on the way, and found Greg and Max's room without too much trouble. Once there I hurried to the bathroom before I wet myself. I'd been holding it for most of the trip. I didn't seem to have the 'capacity' I used to, and I had been drinking a lot of water, too. We had stopped along the way but I couldn't use a public men's room anymore and I certainly didn't want Jake see me go into the lady's room. After I drained my sumps we went out for a tour of the campus. It was late Friday afternoon so the parties were beginning already. We stopped and had beer at several places along the way. Everyone seemed to know Greg and Max, especially Greg. He was very popular with the ladies. I didn't realize there were any women left in college. Most joined FemCorps these days. Max explained that many just wanted to 'soak up some culture' before they settled down to be wives and mothers. Most were just scouting for primo husband candidates. Seeking their M.R.S. Degree, as they say. They all scoped out Greg; most scoped out Max; a few were checking out Jake, but no one was looking at me. Typical. It kind of hurt my feelings, but it was a relief, too. I really wasn't interested in girls anymore. I mean, what could I do with one. But over at the Women's Dorm we met this cute girl named Liz. She seemed to know Greg very well. When he introduced Jake and I she said, "Mike? Oh, you're the little cutie Greg was telling me about." And with that she gave me kiss. It wasn't a bad kiss. Not that I had much to compare it to, but it didn't do much for me. I suspected Greg had asked her to be nice to me. To my surprise, Liz stayed with me the whole evening. She was the first girl I ever danced with. I was actually having fun and was able to forget about my new 'status'. We both drank a lot of beer that night and she seemed to like me more and more. I didn't know women could get 'beer goggles', too. I'd have to remember that. We finished up the evening back at Greg and Max's room. Everyone was dozing off when Liz really came on to me. I resisted, but reluctantly. "Liz, you don't have to. I know Greg asked you to be nice to me," I said. "Mike, you don't get it. I asked Greg to fix me up with you. I've wanted to meet a nice, gentle guy for a long time. These days every guy knows women don't have much to do anymore besides look pretty and make the babies. So they come on macho because they know that if they 'win' you, they control you. I've wanted to meet a kind good-natured guy who'd be good to me. You sounded like that kind of guy, the way Greg and Max described you anyway." This couldn't be more perfect, could it. I was the victim of a Cosmic Joke. I told Liz I was flattered and liked her, too. But she was drunk. If she still felt that way in the morning we'd talk some more. That seemed to satisfy her and we fell asleep holding each other. I was awakened by Liz shrieking. I look at her. She had blood on her hand and she was staring at me like I was monster. I looked down. The crotch of my pants was soaked with blood. OH NO! Obviously Liz had reached into my pants to touch my dick only I didn't have one anymore... and what I had was...... MENSTRUATING! By now everyone was awake. "Greg! Is this your idea of a joke. You ask me to give sympathy sex to your friend and he's not even a real man. IT's a FemCorps freak! Do I look like some lez?" Greg, Max, Jake and several total strangers were all looking me like another head was growing on my shoulder. I explained what had happened and that I had planned to tell them. Liz left the room. Greg broke the tension when he started to laugh and slapped me on the back. "Wow, Mike. I wish you had told us sooner. I guess I should have taken you seriously that time you said you'd do anything to get some pussy. It'll be OK, but you can't sleep here tonight. I'll ask Rhonda to let you stay with her." We went next door to Rhonda's room. I had met her earlier. She seemed nice. Greg talked to her for a while in a muffled voice. I guess he was telling her about me, as she glanced my way a few times. She obviously, had a thing for Greg. I wonder if he knew. Then Greg left and she came over. "Oh, you poor thing. You must be so embarrassed. Come on in and we'll get you cleaned up." I followed Rhonda into the room. There were 2 other girls with her. "Girls, this is Melinda, Greg's friend. She joined FemCorps recently and well... she just got her first visit from Cousin Flo. Welcome to womanhood, honey. Come with me and I'll get you a tampon. Will you need help with it?" The other two, Grace and Sarah, were very nice, too. They helped me get undressed and into the shower. After I was cleaned up Rhonda brought me a tampon. They had shown me what to do when I was first altered, but it still felt weird inside me. She also loaned me some panties and a nightgown. I guess I was really one of the ladies now. I put it on. We sat and talked for a while. They tried to make me feel comfortable, and succeeded. This wasn't too bad. I kept thinking about how Rhonda looked at Greg. Why did Rhonda have to look at Greg like that; like the Sun rose and set in his pants. It must be wonderful to have a woman want you. I mean REALLY want you. If a woman had ever looked at me like that, just once, maybe I wouldn't be a dickless freak now, sitting with a bunch of girls in a borrowed night gown. I'm so stupid. A girl DID look at me like that. Liz... about an hour before she found out I was a girl, too. Shit, I've really screwed up this time. Could I ever look at a guy like that? Face facts, idiot. You're a girl now. The question is WHEN will you look at a guy like that. "Hi, Melinda. My older sister joined FemCorps a few years ago, but you're the first changee I've ever met." "Hi. Does your sister like FemCorps?" "Oh yeah. She thinks it's great. But she's gotten big as a house. That's why I'm not sure about joining yet. Having all those kids has got to ruin your figure ....Oh, not to say you'll end up like my sister. We're all different." I had nightmares where I was, in fact, a house and children were running in and out of me. You don't have to be a classically trained Freudian to figure that one out. The rest of the weekend was Ok. We got up late, had breakfast, went to tailgate parties, sort of saw the game and went to more parties. Greg, Max and Jake were OK about my change they all chided me for taking to so long to tell them, but they agreed it would be a hard thing tell anybody. Everything was back to normal- almost. I did notice a very subtle shift in their attitude towards me. They were slightly more protective, especially when I got a cramp. I tried to hide them but it was hard to do that. They also seemed to encourage me to talk with 'the women' while 'the men' talked. It was an image I keep burned in my mind. Two circles of people, one male, one female, talking casually, and me standing between them, beer in hand, unsure of which circle to join. On the drive back Jake seemed more critical of my driving. That may have been his hangover talking. He did look at me oddly, a few times. I assumed he was wondering what my groin looked like. I couldn't blame him. I would have done the same had our roles been reversed. Of course, that was the real issue. Our roles weren't reversed, only my role was reversed. To him, I wasn't Mike anymore. I was Melinda... and I was on the rag. Part 4 My relationship with my mother was subtly changed after I asked her for a MIDOL. Everyone was treating me as if I was ill. Sure I felt achy and bloated but this was supposed to be natural. Why was my mom treating me like I was sick, and why did Jake start holding doors for me? I'd been female for over a month, but now everybody knew it. They would be expecting me to start acting feminine. But would I? Is that all it takes? I know having my period defines me as female, but am I a woman now. Is being a woman just a matter of pussies and estrogen? Or is it ballet lessons, dolls, Girl Scouts and crushes on pop singers, too? FemCorps called Monday and gave me a good talking to. While I was allowed to dress any way I wanted, it was a breach of my contract with FemCorps to conceal my femaleness. The incident when I bought the car was the first time, and somehow, they had heard about my weekend visit to State. They said any more incidents would result in a 'corrective measure'. In other words, I was in skirts and high heels in public from now on. I stayed in the house a lot. I had always been a male. That's all I knew how to be. Now I was female, but I was no woman. Not yet anyway. Mom had other ideas. After my period ended (never thought I'd be writing that) I found some women's clothes on my bed. Mom had been shopping. It wasn't much really, women's panties, women's slacks and a girlish blouse and ladies low-heel pumps. I told my mom I wasn't going to wear it, but she said I should 'practice in private'. OK. I wore the panties, which were more comfortable on my altered anatomy and the rest. The slacks felt itchy. I think it was because they were tighter fitting than I was used to. Mom suggested I shave my legs. Reluctantly, I did. I also shaved under my arms. That was as girly as I intended to get. A week later I was trying on a dress mom had gotten me. The slacks had been just a foot in the door. Later came night gowns, camisoles and frillier blouses. Then shorts and culottes. The low pumps became a medium heel. I went along because I was bored. I started to wear dresses all day. I found them very comfortable but high heels made my ankles sore. Then came make-up, but no matter how hard I tried I would overdo it and look like a drag queen. Mom showed me how 'less is more' and the effects began to feminize my looks when it was done right, but I still looked like a man without it. No, not a man; just a male; a boy ... maybe. My voice had risen lately. I had to force myself to speak in a deeper register. All this girl stuff helped pass the time, but I was always back into my male clothes by the time Dad got home and whenever I saw Jake. I knew I shouldn't but I couldn't bear to be 'Melinda' around my oldest friend. A couple weeks after we went to State, Jake and I went bowling. It was nice to be Mike again. Jake was great and didn't mention anything about my change, not even subtly, like asking 'how I was feeling'. No guy asks another guy stuff like that. It was a pleasure to be able to NOT share my feelings for a change. Mom and I had been getting closer lately, but it was definitely a mother-daughter thing. She was getting closer to Melinda, not Mike. This was a no pressure evening. Well... not exactly. All the beer was causing some pressure on my bladder. I tried to put it off but no deal. I went to the men's room. I walked in and almost stumbled from the smell. Maybe I was nervous, too. I had been using men's rooms all my life but now I felt like I was 'sneaking in'. Urinals were out, of course. I looked for a clean stall. They were all so ... dirty.... and smelled. I couldn't do it. When you have to sit all the time you develop a higher standard. I left and used a ladies room on the far side of the building. I went in and found a clean stall right away. The whole room was cleaner. My eyes were drawn to the ever-present sofa and pad dispensers. This was my world now. I finished, wiped and flushed. I straightened my clothes and walked out. A woman immediately shrieked, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE! HELP!! PERVERT!!" I tried to show her my FemCorps ID but it wasn't easy. She eventually calmed down but she called me a dyke as she left the room. When I left the manager of the bowling alley was there with a cop. I showed them my ID, too. The cop took me to the manager's office to confirm my identity. They called FemCorps and a director got on the phone. After he confirmed my story to the cops he asked to talk to me. He verbally 'reamed me a new butt hole', which was kind of ironic considering what they had already done to me. He said I could dress anyway I wanted but it was against regs to conceal my womanhood. He told me to report to his office tomorrow. By now a crowd had gathered. The evening was over, so Jake and I went home. He didn't ask me any questions. Bless him. I showed up at the director's office at 9am in a dress, heels and make-up. It was the first time I been out in public as a woman and everybody was looking at me; at least it seemed that way. I thought I looked like I was going to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show, but the director seemed pleased. Actually, women's fashions were very modest these days. Long, full skirts below the knee were the norm, and calf- length like mine, and even ankle length being seen. It was mostly my short hair that labeled me as FemCorps. The fashion was for women to wear their hair as long as possible. Mine wasn't over my ears yet. I don't know which I would have wanted more; that I looked female or that I didn't look female. He explained how part of my job is to restore some 'normalcy' as well as have daughters. "Besides restoring the gender balance through the birth of girls, you ladies of FemCorps are here to increase the number of females in the population. Regardless of your worries about your appearance, you must live as the woman you have become. We can't have 'secret' women hiding among the male population. It is unsettling to the average citizen and reflects badly on the whole program. Frankly, the world needs more males about as much as it needs more infomercials. Until you can't hide your tits anymore, I want you in skirts, heels and make-up in public. Is that clear, young lady?" I said it was, but before I could leave he had me sit down and apply a bright red polish to my fingernails - and toes! It was humiliating to wiggle out of my pantyhose in front of him. He said he wanted to make sure I 'knew my place'. While my nails were drying two MedTechs came and pierced my ears with gold hoops. Then they gave me an injection in the ass. "This is a 3 month implant of special hormones. That should speed up your changes and make it virtually impossible to conceal your womanhood." What did THAT mean. As I was turning to leave he said, "One more thing. We've found a husband for you." "What! I can't get married yet!" "Yes, you can, and yes, you will. Unless, of course, you prefer jail. You contracted for marriage to a male who agreed to have nothing but daughters with you, provided your were psychologically compatible and he satisfied certain discretionary criteria. You gave your list of preferences. This man meets 9 out of 10; more than is necessary. He's a bit older than you requested, but your compatibility quotient is over 92%. I dare say you're not likely to find so desirable a partner any time soon. Besides, you have no choice. You volunteered." "W-what's his name?" I whispered. The director looked at his screen and said, "His name is Stefan Gregory Zaleskie. He lives only 4 blocks from your parents home and ........." I didn't hear all of what he said after that. I didn't have to. I already knew Stefan Gregory Zaleskie. He was Greg's father! I felt dizzy and nauseated on the way home. I wondered what the implant would do to me. Or maybe it was learning I was going to become a wife... and Greg's stepmother. I had left before Mom got up and hadn't told her about last night so she was surprised at my clothes and shiny nails. "Melinda, you're in your girls clothes." "Why not, mom. I'm engaged." We sat and had coffee and cake while I told her about the incident in the bowling alley and my meeting this morning and how I had to marry my best friend's father. I got a little weepy. I had hoped it was from stress and lack of sleep, but I was afraid it was indicative of a more fundamental change in - me. Mom was very supportive. It turns out she knew Greg's dad, and mom, in high school. She said Greg's mom was a little tramp who didn't want to marry a poor boy after she got knocked-up. She only had Greg because Steve's family paid her and she ran off after the birth. No one had seen her since. Greg's dad, Steve, quit school and worked as a bricklayer to take care of his baby son. In time he built it up into a large construction company of his own. I suddenly had a new respect for Mr. Zaleskie. I should say, Steve. We were going to be married after all. The next day my nipples started to itch a lot. I suppose it had to happen sooner or later. I also felt myself ovulating. Mom had told me what it felt like. That was a weird feeling. The day after that my nipples were sore and almost too sensitive to touch. They were changing color, too, but it was the third day that was the real surprise. I woke up and knew immediately that my chest felt differently but I was shocked by what I saw. There were two - things jutting from my chest. I knew those hormones would change me, but my nipples were the size of strawberries! Long and thick, and perched on matching, deep pink areolas the size of saucers! My nipples had to be 4 or 5 times their previous size! They showed through every shirt and blouse I tried on. Nothing could hide them. Later that day I measured them. They were nearly 2 inches long and over an inch wide! And the areola was over 4 inches across! They looked like cow teats!! Though I had resisted until now, I began wearing camisoles, and dresses and blouses with lots of flowers and ruffled lace; anything to hide these huge nipples. Steve had called that evening after he had received notice of our betrothal. It was a very awkward conversation. I kept calling him Mr. Zaleskie. He kept calling me Mike. Then we would, self-consciously, correct each other to Steve and Melinda. He thought we should get together on Saturday. "You mean a date?" I asked. "I guess that's what it would be. I want to talk over some things and, uh, give you an engagement ring. You know I never married Greg's mother and I want to do it right this time," he replied. He sounded as shy and awkward as.., well, me a few months ago. I agreed to our- date. Part 5 I was very nervous waiting for Mr. Za... Steve. This was my first real date, as a man or woman. In a lot of ways that showed the wisdom of my decision to become a female. Eventually Jake and I would have been two lonely, older guys who spent most of their time at the bowling alley or tavern, watching 'the game' or looking at women and making snide remarks about their looks... and resenting all that we would never have. Greg and Max would, of course, find some nice women and drift off into that world of married people where bachelor buddies never seem welcome. No. This was better. I think. I hope. During the week, Mom and I shopped for a new outfit for tonight. I was out in public full-time as a woman and began to carry a purse. While trying on clothes, Mom saw my chest and was surprised by the size of my nipples. I was just embarrassed. I didn't need a bra yet. I couldn't tell if I was happy or unhappy about that. My implant was supposed to stimulate my production of estrogen. That explained my mega-nipples and the game of 'emotion ping-pong' going on in my head, but they also said it might make me more sensitive to male pheromones. That worried me so I didn't want to wear anything, uh, provocative. We settled on a floral print dress with full sleeves, full, ankle-length skirt and bodice of old lace ruffles. We also got shoes to match in a burgundy color. Odd, I was recognizing more colors lately. The part I wasn't very fond of was the corset. Mom said I should wear one to give me a feminine waist. It was really tight and uncomfortable, but no more than the high heels. I figured she knew best. She also wanted to 'do something' about my hair. Women always talk about hair that way. Like my hair was traveling with a rough crowd, or failing Math. My hair wasn't very long yet so Mom just gave me a home permanent to give it 'body', whatever that is. All I know was I had to wear curlers to bed and I couldn't part my hair anymore. It was all just a poofy mass on top of my head. We did stop for lunch. I had been eating like a horse since I got my implant. The nice part about my change was I could shop in all the nicest stores and never worried about the cost. That was a lot of fun. Once, a long time ago, me and the guys were talking about FemCorps and Max said something about "what's your dick worth." Now I knew; quite a bit .. even after taxes. I set a new record for how long it took me to get dressed. This was the longest yet. Lately, getting dressed was no longer a simple act, it was a process, and a rather long one at that. I took a long, hot bath and shaved myself more thoroughly than ever before. I noticed that my muscles were shrinking and softening. A layer of fat was evident just under my skin. The girly changes had begun. Before long I'd have trouble opening jars. What then. Would I become afraid of spiders, too? Call tools a 'thingy'. Mom and Dad, the guys, all seemed more protective of me. I was dreading the day when Dad called me 'kitten' or 'princess'. It's like I was becoming more child-like to the people around me, more needing of care. What scared me the most was it might be true. Obviously, I had lost some physical capabilities already, would I lose mental ones, too? Become too emotional to handle my affairs responsibly? Just get dressed. I was used to panties by now but they still felt so odd pressed against my vulva. At least my pubic hair had grown back, though now as a soft, curly triangle. I struggled into the corset and wore a camisole over my junior-high chest. I had some difficulty with my stockings. I had only worn pantyhose so far and never had to attach them to clips. I managed in spite of my longer nails. I could do my own make-up so long as it wasn't too fancy. I decided to be myself. My ears had healed enough where it didn't hurt to put in earrings anymore. I replaced the hoops with a drop style of fake diamonds. With my white hosiery and the bows on my high heeled, patent leather pumps, I was a nicely turned out little lady. Yuck. Steve showed up but I waited a few moments as Mom had suggested. I re-fluffed my hair. I saw surprise on his face, but not shock. I think I looked more feminine than he had expected. That was a good start. The drive to the restaurant was 15 minutes of extremely awkward silence punctuated by vapid exchanges of pleasantries. Maybe it was just my own head, but my voice sounded girlier than I recalled. He only called me Mike once and that was when he asked why I decided to 'join FemCorps', as he put it. What he really meant was why I decided to become a woman. Well, Steve, the Rotary Club only met on Wednesdays and I was busy on Wednesdays so this was my second choice. No. I didn't say that. I told him the truth. He seemed to understand. He said he had worried about Greg 'finding somebody' when he was growing up. He didn't want his son to be lonely like he was. He stopped there. He didn't need to add that Greg turned about to be a hunk and didn't have to hunt for companionship- or become a woman.... like me. When did I notice Greg was hunk? I guess I always knew he possessed hunk-like qualities, but when did I start to think of him as one ....... like his Dad. Where'd THAT come from! Oh no! I thought Mr. Za- STEVE was a hunk! I was starting to find men attractive! At least, him. Good thing I was marrying him. The waiter treated me just like any other woman, holding my chair, unfolding my napkin, giving me the menu without prices, asking Steve about the wine, and in general, not really paying attention to anything I said. I was getting used to it. Steve looked more handsome than I had ever seen him before. I thought he was handsome! Were his pheromones effecting me? Probably. I glanced down at my traitorous ovaries. I could almost feel the estrogen being pumped into me. Steve turned out to be a lot more fun than Mr. Zaleskie had ever been. We discussed our plans. FemCorps had some strict rules so I would move into his house tomorrow, and we would be married in a civil ceremony that afternoon. We both agreed we should wait until my body was more feminized to have a formal wedding. "It will look better in the wedding pictures," he added. "Especially if the kids ever see them." Kids. Our... kids. I got dizzy for a moment. Why did he have to say that. No. Be brave.... honey. I composed myself without him noticing anything. Then he said," Now for the good part." He reached into his pocket and took out a ring! My engagement ring! "Will you marry me?" he asked. That was sweet of him. Of course, if I said 'no' I would be arrested, but he didn't know that. "Y-yes," I whispered as he slipped it on my hand. I couldn't get over it! I was engaged! I was an engaged woman! Not knowing what else to do, I leaned over and kissed him. Hmm That wasn't bad at all. After dinner we went back to his house. I had been here thousands of times before, yet it was like seeing it for the first time. This was no longer Greg's house. It was Steve's house, my fiancee's house. Soon it would be my house. My home. This was where I would conceive my children, raise my children. I shuddered. In spite of my nervousness, I sat on the couch beside Steve and soon we were kissing again. I really liked it. Steve said he hadn't been with a woman in several years, so he had a lot of passion to catch up on. It was like he was sucking what little masculinity I had left right out of me. He was so big and strong and forceful. I felt smaller, weaker, helpless... and it was a real turn-on. My panties were getting damp already and I could feel Steve's six-years-in-the-making boner threatening to burst through his zipper. I felt obligated to do something. I was, after all, his future wife. "Why don't you show me the bedroom," I crooned, when we broke for air. I think we both were surprised by my statement, but that didn't matter. Steve took me by the hand and lead me to OUR bedroom. I was about to change again- from female to woman. We took off our clothes with only a night light on. I wasn't too comfortable with my body yet and Steve understood. We slid into the bed and began kissing again. Mmmm He was so big and hairy. It was like cuddling with a bear. He sucked my nipple. OOO That felt nice. I was getting really hot. I thought about blowing him but I thought we'd both prefer to do it all for our first time. My breath was coming quick and shallow. I was ready and Steve knew it. I felt his weight upon me. It was scary, yet arousing. He was so powerful; so in control. I felt completely powerless and dominated. That should have upset me but I liked it. I felt his cock against my smooth, softening thigh. WHAT! How big was that thing! I felt him press against my new lips. OOOO He pushed harder. UUUUUUU It hurt a little. The first couple inches slid in. AAAA. I actually had a penis inside me. He seemed to gather his strength and pushed really hard. YYYYAAAAAAAAAAA I shrieked as his massive cock ripped my hymen to shreds and stretched my new box beyond belief! OOOOOOO How big is he! I felt it push against my cervix. It was like being harpooned. He began to pump me. UUUUUUU out. OOOOOOO in. I couldn't take it anymore. "AAA It hurts! Please! No more. UUUUUU NO! You're ripping me apart!" Steve continued his rut. Faster, then slower. UUUUU I suddenly had my first female orgasm! WOW! It still hurt but... WOW! Steve worked it in deeper. OOOOOOOOOO The pain faded into a distant soreness that I could sense just at the edges of my sex buzz. I don't know when I did it, but I had, instinctively, wrapped my legs around his back. I think I bit his shoulder, too. I moaned and writhed passionately now, my maleness stripped away. UuuuuUUUuuu. I was a real moaner, too. Just when I thought I couldn't go any higher I felt his cock spasm and fill me with warm goo. I shrieked his name and clawed his back. As my head cleared, I could feel it softening, with some regret. Steve, panting, looked at me. I know we shared the same thought. We were both amazed at how good we were together. Steve kissed me, and I kissed back. "I'm sorry it hurt. The first time does- they say," he said so sweetly. I pouted as our kissing became caresses. "You're just a mean, old man. A mean, hairy old man. Ooo a mean, hairy,.... sexy old man. Oh, no. Again?" I couldn't believe it. He was hard again. Before I knew it, he was inside me. We did it two more times before he, mercifully, fell asleep. Steve was a big, muscular man, and very hairy, more so than Greg, except where he was balding on top. Each time he fucked me I could feel my vagina stretching out bigger, permanently. His chest felt like a rug, a coarse rug, rubbing against my ever more sensitive nipples, and his back, arms and legs were nearly as furry. It was like sleeping with a gorilla. But, to my shame, I was starting to like it. Part 6: Much like when I drank too much, there was a price to pay when the dawn came. Here I was lying next to Mr. Zaleskie, who was snoring lightly. I had let him fuck me last night- more than once. Today it didn't seem like such a good idea. My real, soul chilling fear was I didn't know who had slept with him. Was it horny Mike, so eager to have sex with ANYbody that his partner being male wasn't a deal breaker? Or was it aroused Melinda, discovering the joys of her new sexuality? Or responding to her nesting instincts! I looked down at my belly. There were EGGS in there! And thanks to Steve.... sperm! Yuck! I could feel it between my thighs. It was so sticky. What if .... No. Don't go there. Right now, my body and mind were not in sync. Could this be like a 'vacation remorse' where the hotel room isn't as nice as it looked in the brochure and you want to go home? If it was, I was so screwed. (why did I put it THAT way) No refunds. No going home, either. This womb was rented to FemCorps, and I was never so sore in my life. It was awful. I placed my hand on my plump vaginal lips. Plump? They still felt swollen and puffy. Or had they grown somehow? Do they grow? It still smarted inside- where my hymen had been. I wasn't a virgin anymore. Why did that bother me? I had been looking forward to this day. No. Mike had been looking forward to it. Melinda had just given up something she would never have again. I felt... empty inside. However, MIKE was glad Greg wasn't around to see this. Oh dear. How am I going to face him after... after........ Or the rest of the guys! What have I done! I started to cry. I've been popped! I'm really a woman now! In the bathroom I discovered where all the semen goes after sex. It doesn't go anywhere. It just dribbles back down your legs later. Well--- not all of it. Some little wigglers were inside my uterus already, looking for a .... No! I promised myself not to think about that. I sat on the toilet and managed to remove a lot of the goo from my (may as well say it, honey) pussy. I still needed to use a sanitary pad because I wasn't sure if I got it all. How do women endure this. Does it ever feel good? Would my tits ever stop hurting so much? And what was with my hips. My joints were sore. Did I spread my legs THAT wide last night? I chuckled (giggled) at the thought that semen was a lot like beer. You don't buy it, you only rent it .......... and too much gives you a gut! Oh, boy. I got dressed in the now wrinkled dress from last night and drove back to my, ... I mean, my parents house before Steve woke up. I really looked like a tramp with my wrinkled dress and smeared make-up. Sneaking out of a man's bed at the crack of dawn with cum on my panties. Face it, honey. You are a tramp. You're spreading these thighs for money, aren't you? Maybe I'll get some fishnet stockings and stiletto heels. Why did that get me aroused? I went to my room and rummaged around the back of my closet until I found some MIKE clothes. I put them on, though they were surprisingly itchy on my shaven legs and my crotch still felt ... sticky. I had to douche. I washed off the make-up and took out the earrings. Good. I looked like Mike again. I put a few things into a suitcase, got into my car and started driving, nowhere in particular. After a time I passed that playground where I had played basketball. I parked around the corner and walked by, hoping those boys were there. They were. I watched them play for a while when one saw me and said, "Hi. Wanna play?" I said yes and joined them. I expected to be captain again when we chose up sides, but a tall, freckle faced red- head was captain this time. I wasn't chosen right away- like the last time. It was just me and another, uh, boy. The red-headed kid said, "I choose Dave." At that the other captain, a Hispanic looking boy said," Ok, but then I get Richie, too, since I have to take the girl." Take the girl? They meant me! They knew I was a girl! Was it that obvious? Had sex changed me so much? Did I have 'that glow' people talk about? I said I had to get home, and returned to my car. As I sat down I caught a glimpse of my refection in the rear view mirror. Oh, dear. I looked down at my chest. My nipples were bigger than ever! There were two bumps, each the size of a walnut, clearly visible under my shirt. I lifted my shirt. My huge aureoles had darkened! I touched one carefully. Ouch. They had never been sore like this, and I could see some swelling underneath them. No wonder they knew I was a girl. I was growing tits, and looked just like a 12 year old girl now. What was the use. I had come here to be a boy for a little while longer, but they knew I was girl all along. It seemed like everybody knew but me. All of a sudden I heard a wail and saw red lights flashing in my side mirror. Damn. I was being pulled over. The cop said I was doing 45 in a residential zone and looked ready to pounce at first, then he saw my license and that I was a woman. He let me go with a warning. "Watch it next time, little lady." he added. Hey. It was the first time I had ever beat a ticket. Driving again, I thought about my life. I was doing what I always do, running away. I was scared I wouldn't make it in a man's career, so I became a woman. Now I was scared of failing as a woman so I tried to be a kid again. Sorry. One way ticket. If I failed at womanhood, I failed at everything because it was all I had left now. I realized then that I didn't know anything at all about women, other than the fact I had become one. But I wasn't going to be a quitter. Not anymore. I drove home to pack my stuff, my girl stuff, and get ready for my- wedding. When I walked in Mom gave me some grief. "Where were you, young lady! I was worried sick!" "Geez, you never said anything about when I came in before? I was with Steve. You knew that," I whined. Why did I whine? "I never had a daughter before. There are LOTS of lonely, horny men out there. You could have been raped, or kidnapped! Why didn't you call? After today you're Steve's responsibility, but until then you're mine. Is that clear?" Suddenly, a knowing smile spread across her face. "So, it's 'Steve' now," she positively grinned. "Melinda, honey. Were you and Steve, uh, intimate last night?" I stared at her, wide eyed. "Yes," I said and began to cry. "How did you know?" "Well, honey. Women know these things. You had 'that certain glow'. Did he, uh, force himself on you?" I shook my head in a 'no'. "Well... I see. Good for you, I guess. Are you, you know, OK?" "I'm fine, Mom. Heck. I'm glowing, right? I laughed. I cried. I saw stars. Anything else you want to know? Seriously, mommy. I'm in an arranged marriage to a man old enough to be my father. Did you expect me to fall head-over-heels?" "No, Melinda. But I didn't expect you to fall heels-over-head, either," she snapped. I may have had a female body and done the ultimate female act, but I still was man enough not to want to 'share my feelings', especially about something so personal. Would I ever start doing that? Mom backed off. Over coffee, I told her about the civil ceremony and moving in. I asked her not to come. I wanted the wedding where I wore a gown and stuff to be the 'real wedding' that my family and friends saw. This was just a legal formality. She understood. I went upstairs to dress as the woman I was. No use pretending anymore. Mom's behavior about me not calling made me feel diminished somehow. Like I was a child in need of supervision. She as much as said I had leash on me and that she was turning it over to my husband. She was right, of course. Rape was a fairly common thing these days. Women had to be careful. I glanced down at my crotch. Especially hot, little bitches... like me. The world was full of men who would do anything to get at what was between my legs, and I just realized that wasn't always a good thing. Like it or not, I needed someone to protect me. I could feel myself getting smaller and weaker everyday, but now I understood the consequences. My world just got a little smaller. OO My nipples hurt. Steve hadn't sucked them that hard. Mmmm The memory of his lips on them felt good. The shower water stung them. Something was happening. The extra hormones were probably making me grow. I hoped not.. yet anyway. I wasn't ready for boobs and ... bras. I looked at my shape in the mirror. I had always been slim, and had been proud of it. Now I looked at my reflection and felt skinny, and shapeless. My muscles had almost completely faded away, leaving me with scrawny limbs, but my hips seemed wider. Like I was 'filling out', as they say. I found myself wondering what a big pair of hips would feel like. As the proverb says, Be careful what you wish for. I noticed my lips seemed slightly fuller and my eyelashes were close to twice the length they had been. When did that happen? Girlier and girlier. Regardless, I was going to keep some of 'Mike' alive in me. Whoever I was becoming. I felt 'different'. My pussy seemed much wider than before. Actually, I could hardly believe what had been able to fit inside it. I was a sexually active young woman now. I started thinking about fucking Steve again and my face got flushed. Darn. I really liked sex, too. Mike was going to have a tough time finding room in bed with Melinda and Steve. Even though this wasn't a 'real' wedding, Mom wanted me to get fixed up nicely and get me a nice dress for the service. Shopping was becoming my new sport. We found a nice white, knit suit. It was a fairly conservative cut and Mom had me get an aged silk blouse with a high lace collar and a ruffled bodice to go with it. I completed the outfit with white hosiery and white, high heel pumps with pink highlights on the heel and toe. This was the most feminine outfit I had worn yet, especially after Mom insisted I get a wide brim hat with a veil to 'finish the look'. That took a lot out of me, but it was nothing compared to the new lingerie she insisted upon. My new, female underwear was considerably finer than my old BVD's and I had gotten used to it, but the items she bought now felt like they were made from spider webs! I had never felt so naked in clothes before! "This wedding may be just a legal formality, but I assure you, Melinda, Steve will want a very traditional wedding night." She was right. I bought the sexy lingerie. Girlier and girlier............... trampier and trampier. We put the stuff in the car then returned for my first official trip to a beauty salon. La Bella Femina was a true fortress of femininity. No men were allowed past the reception area. Of course, pervs were everywhere and I actually appreciated the extra security. Marge was the owner and chief stylist. This was probably the only career left for women. Natural women anyway. As a member of FemCorps I wasn't allowed to work at all. Mom arranged for the whole treatment. I got a manicure and pedicure. I liked them a lot more than I thought I would. I also got a facial and they laser-pierced my ears. Mom had gotten me a lovely (lovely?) pair of diamond earrings as a wedding present. You know what? I cried. Mike took a real beating that morning. Marge trimmed and layered my hair. Even though it was still short, it looked distinctly feminine now. She also lightened it. She pointed out that my light brown hair was growing in honey blond at the roots. Well, hair color is a gender related trait. She finished up with make-up, but she did it slowly and explained everything like it was a lesson. I was feeling very pretty and feminine, probably for the first time since my conversion. That's when SHE came in. She entered the salon on a cold breeze and with a flourish of her coat that would have made Cruella Deville proud. This woman was stunning. She resembled that 20th Century actress, Morgan Fairchild. My mother kept looking at her. Obviously she knew this woman. Marge was talking to me about the wedding and mentioned Steve's name. Then the mystery woman spoke. "You mean Steve Zaleskie? From Ridgevale High?" She knew Steve. "Yes, Daphne," my mother suddenly said. "My daughter is marrying Steve Zaleskie. So, what are you doing here?" "Why Delia Crenshaw. I haven't seen you in years- obviously," she cooed. With a wave she strolled to the ladies room. I had never seen such panther-like grace in a walk. Would I ever be able to do that? Or do you have to be a naturally born woman? My mom then explained to me that this was Greg's aunt! She was Daphne Bigelow, twin sister of Wanda Bigelow, Greg's mother! She told me how she and her sister were only interested in rich guys, and used people. She hadn't seen her in years. Then she returned, refreshed and claws sharpened. "Say. Isn't, ahem, SHE one of those FemCorps mutants. I knew Steve couldn't get a real woman." "He got your sister," Mom traded back. Funny how high school antagonisms never quite go away. She and Mom traded barbs for a few minutes. Then Mom lost it and called her a bitch. "Just who are you calling a bitch. What a woman has is a very valuable commodity, as your, uh, daughter well knows. So I always preferred the company of generous men. So I married a man who can give me what I want. So what. I was just using what nature gave me to my advantage. At least I didn't have to become a freak of nature, and my life is my own. I didn't have to contract to be mated and bred like some show dog. From where I'm standing, it's Melinda who's the bitch, in the truest sense of the word. She's probably working on her first litter already." All of a sudden I had a vision of myself. I was naked in box of shredded newspaper. My nipples were leaking and I had eight of them! And babies were suckling me! OH NO! She was right! I AM a bitch. I burst into tears and ran to my car. Mom joined me in a few minutes and persuaded me to let her drive. I ran into the house, still crying. I needed to call my Steve. Part 7: Steve seemed unpleasantly surprised that Daphne was back in town. That made me feel better. I know it sounds cruel, but Daphne was the most stunning woman I had ever seen, and Steve had once loved her twin. I guess I wasn't feeling very confident in my womanhood. I could never compete with a woman like that for Steve's affections... if Steve was what she wanted. Something told me she did. Wow. Was I getting 'woman's intuition'? I hoped so, because I was pretty sure I was going to need it. I loaded the rest of my stuff into my car and drove to St .. our house. I left my 'Mike' stuff behind except for some clothes I intended to wear when the guys came over. I wasn't Mike anymore. In a couple of hours I'd be a wife, and very soon, a mother. Heck. I'll be a mother as soon as I become a wife; a step-mom anyway. I laughed for the first time that day. I am SO going to make Greg call me 'Mom'. But will he? This was starting to seem hard. I recalled this poem I had read in school. It said that a man was like a city and a woman like a flower. The poet meant that a man had to make himself into what he was going to be, a challenge I had declined, while a woman was a product of Nature. She had only to be a woman to be fulfilled. But what was it to be a woman? That was the question I had to answer. I didn't have the answer but I knew I wouldn't find it trying to act like a man. I decided to give in to those sudden, alien impulses I had been experiencing lately; to be a product of Nature. I wasn't sure, at all, where it would lead me but I knew I was a female now. Whatever fulfillment I was destined to find was out there.. Where Nature was leading me. Steve insisted that he carry everything in from the car. I felt funny about that, but I was a helpless female now, so I let him. I'm not sure it was entirely an act, either. Those boxes seemed really heavy when I loaded them. Mom was surprised I could lift them at all. Oh my. Did that mean that, eventually, I wouldn't be able to lift them? Would I actually become that weak? That... helpless? Oh, dear. They said the estrogen stimulant would simulate a pregnancy with my metabolism. Was this part of that effect? What was next? Hysterical mood swings? Wild cravings? Water retention? I sure had a lot more to worry about as a female. I used to think women were hypochondriacs, but we just have a more complex biology than men. One good thing. Since the stimulant simulated pregnancy, that was like a contraceptive. But it was 90% effective. That meant I still had a one in ten chance of getting pregnant for the next 3 months. I shuddered. Here I was computing the odds of getting pregnant! I really am a woman. I hope I can handle it. Speaking of handling it. I see Steve has a hard-on. No time for a quickie before the ceremony, b