Genderwave First Reports
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Genderwave: The Analyst free porn video
This is my third Genderwave tale. The others, also available on
Fictionmania, are called:
Genderwave: First Reports
Genderwave: Ramifications
Like this, these are standalone tales. You don't have to have read any
to follow the others, but if you want to set a story in the Genderwave
universe these are the stories that form the 'bible' for that
universe. The universe 'rules' can be found at the end of the first
tale.
*
GENDERWAVE: THE ANALYST
by BobH
(c) 2005
*
Langley, Virginia June 27th, 2004 (Day GW+5)
Nervously, I checked my appearance in the small mirror hanging from
one of the screens forming the walls of the cubicle where I worked. My
short, brown hair was neat and tidy, small stud earrings both present
and correct, and my skin free of make-up. More and more former males
have taken to using cosmetics as the days have passed, but though we
may all be women now this is one trend I'm going to resist. I hate
wearing make-up. I like my face naked and unadorned, thank you very
much. It's a pleasant enough face, though nothing special. Then again,
it had been nothing special before it changed either, so I guess
things worked out pretty much even in that department. I kinda missed
my moustache, but what really hurt was losing seven inches in height.
"You look fine, Sue," chuckled John Bishop, leaning across the screen
that separated his cubicle from mine.
Being called by my new name still sometimes gave me pause. Six days
ago I was a man named Greg Chambers and John was a woman named Lucy
Carson. Now, thanks to the Genderwave, I was female and my name was
Susan Bryce.
"Thanks," I said, "but it's only been five days and I'm still getting
used to my new reflection."
"I know what you mean," said John. "There's still work to be done, and
things still have to be kept running, so none of us have had the time
to just drop everything else and really deal with the change in our
lives, in our world. So how are things with you and Pat, I mean
Chris?"
"We're getting there," I said. "You're single, so you didn't have to
deal with having the love of your life also change sex. I'm getting
used to Pat now being Chris, though, and I think we're going to be OK.
So how's your love life been since the G-wave?"
"Slow." said John. "I mean, yeah, like most people my preferences seem
to have shifted along with my gender, so I've gone from straight girl
to straight guy, but that doesn't mean I don't remember what if felt
like to be a girl who liked guys, even if I don't feel that way
anymore. It's gonna take a while for me to get comfortable enough with
this to go the whole way with a girl, if you know what I mean."
"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean," I sighed. "Some people leapt
right in there, like they couldn't wait to explore the possibilities
of their altered bodies, but for most of us it'll take a bit longer."
"Yeah," said John, "hell of a thing to have to deal with. I've spent
most of my evenings since the G-wave watching my DVDs. With most of
them having new casts now it's like having a whole new collection of
stuff I've never seen before. I much prefer that redhead as Buffy to
Sarah Michelle Gellar, but the guy now playing Giles just isn't as
good as Anthony Stewart Head. Anyway, enough procrastinating. It's
time to go slay the dragon."
John and I were both in our twenties, and both CIA junior analysts.
Thankfully, the Genderwave hadn't changed that. The continuity
provided by my job was one of the things helping me cope with the
enormity of what had happened to us and to our world. Not that I
relished the presentation I now had to make.
"Easy for you to say," I grimaced, thinking back to my last meeting
with Deputy Director Martha Brooks, now Arnold Symonds.
I hadn't seen the Deputy Director since before the Genderwave struck,
a fact I had been quite happy about. Large, middle-aged, and with a
commanding presence, she had made no attempt to conceal her interest
in me. Pointed references to her husband on my part had not dissuaded
her, and though I'd resisted all her overtures I'm not sure she ever
figured out why. Some people just have hides that are too thick, I
guess. If I wasn't so keen to be seen as a team-player and to get
ahead, I'd have made s sexual harassment complaint.
"Have you got all the data?" said John. "We both pulled that stuff
together, so I'd hate for you to miss anything."
"Stop fretting," I said, as I gathered up the folder on my desk. "I
haven't blown a presentation yet, have I?"
"True," he admitted, "and, anyway, I'll be joining you both later with
the satellite photos, so I'll have an opportunity to do some damage
limitation."
"Hah!" I said, striding out of my cubicle.
I was wearing low-heeled shoes, a tailored trouser-suit and, most
importantly, a blouse with only the top few buttons undone. The last
thing I wanted was Arnold Symonds staring down my cleavage.
As I headed down the hallway to his office, I wondered where the
Deputy Director had been for the past five days. It was unusual for
him to be absent for so long. Then again, when every person on the
planet, and every one of our fellow primates in the animal kingdom,
has switched gender, I can see how that could lead to lots of high
level meetings to try and figure out all the ramifications and how the
hell to respond to the situation.
"Agent Bryce is here, sir," said Symonds' secretary Juan, formerly
Carla, into her intercom.
"Send her in, Mr Ruiz," he replied.
"Certainly, sir," said Juan, releasing the intercom button and looking
up from his desk at me.
"He's in a really strange mood," he said. "According to the grapevine,
his marriage is in trouble."
"I guess his wife finally got fed up of his philandering," I said.
"Thanks for the heads-up."
"Ah, Bryce," said Symonds, glancing up from the report he was reading
as I entered, "have a seat."
I sat in the chair facing Symonds' desk, surprised he hadn't engaged
in the usual inappropriate sexual banter I usually faced when I
entered this office. Perhaps his marital problems really had shaken
him. I took the opportunity to study him, as curious about the change
he had undergone as I usually was when first encountering someone I
hadn't seen since the G-wave struck.
Martha Brooks had been a large woman, her dyed blonde hair usually
tied back in a bun. Arnold Symonds was taller, four or five inches
taller than me now, with what had been stockiness on Martha
transformed into a barrel-chest that gave him the appearance of great
upper body strength, and probably not just the appearance at that. His
hair was short and slate grey and, if anything, he radiated even more
power than she had.
"OK," he said eventually, putting his folder down, "give me your
assessment of what's going on in the Middle East."
This was unexpectedly brusque and to the point.
"Well," I began, clearing my throat, "on the day of the Genderwave, as
you know, total news blackouts were put into effect in Iran, Saudi
Arabia, and Burma/Myanmar. Given the potential cultural ramifications
of the global genderswitch that took place, and our uncertainty as to
just how the more conservative Islamic societies would react to it,
this was worrying, particularly in the case of Saudi Arabia. We'd seen
widespread violence and unrest in other countries and having these
ones 'go dark' on us made us fear the worst. Spy satellite overflights
reassured us on the possibility of unrest in Iran and Saudi Arabia -
they actually seemed remarkably quiet, with very few people out on the
streets - but couldn't shed any light on what was happening behind
closed doors. Then, a few days later, Saudi Arabia rejoins the world,
announcing that the religious authorities have ruled that anyone who
had already achieved the age of majority at the time of the Genderwave
should be accorded male status. Which is amazing."
"How so?" said Symonds.
"Because of the inherent contradiction. The way the Genderwave worked
was that it transformed us in the present so that we remained married
to the same people and mostly in the same jobs, and altered the past
just enough to make this work. In other words, it altered reality from
the present backwards rather than from the past forward. However, this
wasn't a particularly *deep* alteration of reality. It spread back
just far enough that our bloodlines and genetic inheritance still
work, maybe a century or so in the case of the oldest dead people who
needed to have been of the other gender for their living children to
have still been born of them and the still-living other parent. The
other changes in our personal pasts, the ones that make those pasts
more comfortably match our current genders, have mostly been largely
cosmetic. For instance, I used to be in my high school football team.
According to my school records as they now exist, I was now never in
any sort of school sports team. Heck, I wasn't even a cheerleader,
though some of my former teammates now were. Guess I never made the
grade."
"So where's this contradiction you mentioned?" said Symonds.
"For the Imams, Mullahs, and Ayatollahs, who are now women to declare
that women can have status as men creates a contradiction because
Islam doesn't allow for female Imams or Mullahs. The Koran, the
Hadiths, and the Sunna would have to be changed to allow it. Since
they haven't been changed, anymore than the Bible was - I've checked -
why has the women's authority to speak in these matters been accepted?
And the answer is the same one for why the Catholic Church has
accepted the Pope and her Cardinals, her Archbishops and Bishops and
all her priests now being female and so far not called for their
replacement."
"And that reason is?"
"The Genderwave itself," I said. "If you accept it was an act of God,
as religious people across the world have done, then you accept Him
leaving these people in place and continue to accept their authority,
at least for now.
"For now?" said Symonds. "Why the uncertainty?"
"Because if the Genderwave was indeed the will of Allah, what exactly
does it mean?" I said. "How are we meant to interpret it? Does it
constitute new revelation, a judgment that women should now occupy
those positions, or does the fact they were transformed but the holy
texts were not mean that their transformation should be taken as a
sign they were in fact unworthy and should be removed? Needless to
say, those in power would favor the first interpretation, and that's
the one they're pushing. For now their populaces, who are still
dealing with the shock of their own transformations, seem to be
accepting this, but what happens if the other interpretation starts to
gain currency? A few charismatic firebrands pushing that idea in the
wrong places and the Middle East could erupt."
At this point, I pushed the document folder I had with me across the
desk.
"Here are our current projections on how this could affect the various
nations of the region and compromise our interests there."
"Hmmm," said Symonds, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, as he quickly
scanned the datasheets John and I had prepared, "so you're saying
we're at the mercy of people whose actions we can neither predict nor
sensibly make provision for. That's not comforting news to take to the
President when it concerns the world's major oil-producing region. And
what posture do we adopt? The US expressing strong support for one
interpretation over the other could be seen as self-serving meddling
and so be counter-productive."
"Only if we were too clumsy and overt about it," I said.
"You have something in mind?" said Symonds, raising his eyebrows in
surprise. "Let's hear it."
We were interrupted by the intercom buzzing on his desk.
"Yes, Mr Ruiz," he said, somewhat testily.
"It's Agent Bishop, sir," said Ruiz. "You asked me to inform you as
soon as he had the satellite photos ready."
"Very well," send Symonds, "please send him in."
John entered the room, a sheaf of large photos under one arm, and took
the chair next to mine, Symonds giving him a strange look all the
while.
"Agent Bryce here was just telling me what she thought our approach to
Saudi Arabia and the Gulf region should be post-Genderwave," said
Symonds. "Please continue, Agent Bryce."
"We say nothing directly about Islam and the Middle East," I said,
"but we lead by example."
"What did you have in mind?"
"Names," I said.
"Names?" said Symonds, puzzled. "I don't follow you."
"Have you wondered why most people have so easily accepted their new
names? Sure there's a logical family connection to the new name, but
it's still not the name that person has been called all their life,
the name they're familiar and comfortable with. You'd expect many more
people than have so far done so to reject the name assigned them by
the logic of the Genderwave, to either keep their old surname or adopt
the feminine or masculine version of their original forename, as
appropriate. A name can be important to one's sense of self, after
all. It's interesting, too, that while everyone of course identified
themselves to friends and family, they're less eager to reveal who
they used to be to strangers or mere acquaintances. Asking someone who
they used to be is already considered as impolite as, say, asking them
how much they earn. So the acceptance of new names seems to have been
both rapid and almost universal."
"Just as well," said John. "Your new name is the one on every document
you possess, on every legal and government record. That's a lot of
stuff to change. Plus, if too many people wanted to change names at
once it would overwhelm the bureaucracy. The government would have to
try and discourage people from doing so. I wonder if this is a
provision of that new bill Congress is pushing through, the Identities
and Contracts Confirmation Act?"
"Not that I've heard, no," said Symonds. "So what conclusion did you
reach concerning this name acceptance, Agent Bryce?"
"That it's part and parcel of accepting our new gender identities with
as little fuss as most people have," I said. "You'd expect more people
to rail against their fate than have, but people are just getting on
with it. It helps that everyone else in the world was affected, that
we're all in this together, but that can't be the whole story.
Whatever mechanism allows people to quickly accept they've gone from
being a heterosexual member of one gender to a heterosexual member of
the other, as most people have done, may also be operating in regard
to name acceptance. I have no explanation for it otherwise, though
it's certainly an undeniable fact."
When I mentioned people going from being a heterosexual member of one
gender to a heterosexual member of the other, Symonds gave John a look
I recognized, one I had been on the receiving end of more than once in
the past. Then I knew. Though I shouldn't have, I smiled.
"So how do we use this?" said Symonds, returning his attention to me.
"Since most everyone, secular and religious, has accepted their new
names anyway, we lose nothing by having the President suggest these
are the names the Lord intended us to have in this new world He has
made of the old," I said, "and that if this is so, then it might be
unwise to go changing them."
"Ah, I see," said Symonds. "Very clever. By asserting our belief it's
unwise to question God's judgment on this point, we are implying it's
unwise to question His judgment on any other. If He left these various
religious authorities in place despite their now being female, then
who are we to question His will by seeking to replace them? I think
our own religious people will get on board with that interpretation,
which will give weight to this view globally without us ever having to
get more specific. Yes, I think we can definitely use this. Thank you,
Agent Bryce, that will be all for the present. I'd prefer to be alone
with Agent Bishop now to go over the satellite photos."
"Certainly, sir," I said, smiling as I got up and left the room. Poor
John didn't know what he was in for.
*
Later, in our apartment in Arlington, Virginia, Chris chuckled when I
related this story:
"So Symonds was one of the exceptions, eh?"
"Yep," I laughed. "The majority of straights of each gender ended up
straights of the other after the G-wave, but a majority isn't
everyone. That's why the marital problems. Mr Brooks became Mrs
Symonds, going from straight male to straight female. Unfortunately
for her, her husband retained the same sexual preferences he had when
he was the wife."
"Poor woman," said Chris, sympathetically. "It would have been awful
if that had happened to one of us."
"Yeah, it would have," I said, reaching over, resting a hand on
Chris's cheek, and putting on as seductive a look as I could manage.
"So, do you think you're ready to eat pussy yet?"
Chris looked shocked, then burst out laughing.
"Yeah, I think maybe I am, but boy I never thought there would ever
come a time in my life when I would say that."
"Me either," I said, pulling Chris to me. We locked lips, and our kiss
was long and deep.
"My mother always wanted me to have a girlfriend," chuckled Chris,
coming up for air, "but somehow I don't think this is what she had in
mind."
"Nor mine," I laughed, sliding my hands up inside Chris's T-shirt and
caressing her impressive breasts. I still missed Patrick, but if I had
to be Sue then I was glad he had made that journey with me and become
Christine. As with straights, most gays of each gender became a gay
person of the other gender after the G-wave. It would have been
unbearable if Chris had been one of the exceptions, and I don't know
how I'd have survived it.
Fortunately, I didn't have to.
The End.
********
Note: This vignette was written specifically to answer points raised
in responses to my previous Genderwave tale.
Stories by others set in this universe:
Genderwave: Finding One's Roots
Genderwave: Records
Both by Danielle J., though I don't know if the second one will have
yet been posted by the time this one is.
Lauryn
- 16.01.2022
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