The Emergence of Eve
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The Path Of Eve free porn video
Some breeds of fish are able to switch gender so that male/female ratios
optimal for breeding are maintained. Certain breeds of frog are also
able to change gender. Imagine a reality in which humans were endowed
with this capability. What would junior high school be like in such a
world?
The Path of Eve
By
Carleton Vincent
Organ music blared as the processional came up the center aisle of the
sanctuary. Father Riggsen led the way, holding the Sacred Tome out
before him with deference. Hale Kuller and Banes Fedder followed the
priest in their black cinctures, each carrying a candle in a long brass
holder. The choir came behind the two acolytes, with their hymnals
cradled in their hands. I watched them from under the gray hood of my
Commutation robe as they passed our pew. Mom fidgeted nervously beside
me. My father's eyes were fixed straight ahead.
"If you want to be a man you have to act like a man," he had once told
me. "You can't show weakness. When some other guy tries to bully you
around, you have to stand up to him. If you act afraid, he'll just mess
with you all the more."
I had tried to follow my father's mandate. But Jorg Crowley had fists
that looked as solid as concrete blocks. If hurled at me, they would
shatter bone. I could almost hear the sound of my ribs snapping like
dry twigs with the impact. I could feel my jaw crunching. How could I
quell the sudden anxiety I felt when he confronted me?
Seventh period had just begun. I had finished changing into my gym
uniform and was plodding towards the narrow passage that led out of the
locker room. Then Crowley stepped directly in front of me. I tried to
step around him, but he moved so I couldn't get by.
"Pyper," he said, reading the name on my gym shirt with a smirk on his
face. "Pyper the Pixie?that's what I'm gonna call you?Pyper the Pixie."
I heard laughter among the other boys in the class and my face grew
warm. Getting a nickname was not good. Getting a nickname meant you
were on the bottom of the pecking order. Last year, Den started calling
Richard Trotter "Squirrel" because of his squeaky voice and buckteeth.
Rich started going through the change not long afterwards.
"Don't call me that," I said. But my voice came out an octave higher
than normal, betraying my fear. Crowley's grin widened and there was a
dark glint in his mud brown eyes.
"You don't like Piper the Pixie?" he said with mock disappointment,
"maybe I should call you Skin Piper. Do you like that better?"
I felt my face grow even warmer. Please, Jovin," I thought as the
locker room echoed with laughter once again. "Please don't let that
nickname stick."
"Do you play the skin pipe?" he pressed.
A beam of light came down from a high window making the iron-haired
priest seem to glow with an otherworldly luminance, as he stood in the
pulpit. He opened The Holy Tome, knobby knuckled hands flipping to the
proper page.
"A reading from the Book of Provenance," he announced. "Chapter One;
Verse Three." The priest waited as the sound of rustling pages filled
the sanctuary. Then, when the members of the congregation had all found
the proper page, he cleared his throat and read. "Among those first men
created by Jovin were two great princes," he began. It was the story of
Adam and Evan. I had heard it many times in Sunday school. Evan and
Adam ruled in neighboring kingdoms. When they first met, they became
fast friends. But soon, Evan grew envious for Adam was endowed with
superior agility and strength and always bested him at games. Learning
of this envy, the Archdevil Lucifer took the form of a serpent and
waited for Evan in the gardens of Elsuss. "Take the fruit from this
tree," the devil bade Evan. "It will give you great power, making you
Adam's better."
At first, Evan resisted. "Jovin has forbidden us to sup upon the fruit
of this grove," he said. "Would you have me betray my master's trust?"
But the demon serpent played on Evan's jealousy. "Your master is
unjust," he hissed. "You have been as faithful a servant as Adam and
yet he has not seen fit to bless you equally. For is not Adam stronger
and faster than you? Does he not always best you when you compete?"
Poisoned by these words, Evan took the fruit and tasted of it. When
Jovin learned of this disobedience he was angered and quickly came to
pass judgment. Evan fell to his knees, embarrassed by his rash act. "I
have failed you my lord," he wailed. This show of repentance pleased
Jovin and so he was lenient.
He remade Evan, so that he no longer bore resemblance to Jovin himself
but was instead cast in the image of the goddess Maya. "Your lands
shall fall under Adam's rule, and you shall serve him as Maya serves
me," Jovin declared. "This is your sentence. And if you agree to serve
this sentence, giving your faithful service to Adam, he shall treat you
tenderly and keep you safe from harm." And so it was as Jovin dictated.
From that day forward, Evan was called Eve, and she obeyed Adam who
showed her his great love.
My grandmother believed that the story of Adam and Evan was literal
fact, but most people did not hold to the view that the Sacred Tome
should be interpreted in this way. The stories in the Tome were meant
to offer us guidance on how to live our lives. They were metaphors and
parables.
Scientists had offered a more plausible explanation for how humans first
developed the ability to switch gender. It was an adaptation that
increased the likelihood of survival. They hypothesized that the
ability probably first evolved among a group of primitive humans after
they had became isolated on an island due to rising sea levels. They
could no longer migrate during times of climate change and so evolved
the ability to switch gender. Excess males became female when climactic
conditions produced a plentiful supply of food. With more females a
greater number of mating partners were available, and the tribe could
grow large and strong. During the frequent periods of draught that
plagued the region, few males changed to female. This provided the
tribe with more warriors to secure food from competing tribes. If
losses suffered as the result of starvation and/or warfare experienced
during the lean periods were great, they could be quickly made up when
conditions improved and more males changed to female.
This adaptation proved highly beneficial and Homo sapiens mutatio
eventually dominated the island. As more time passed, this new species
of humans learned to make small boats and spread from the island to the
neighboring continent, forcing their cousins, the Homo sapiens sapiens
into extinction just as Homo sapiens neanderthalis had been forced into
extinction ten thousand or so years earlier.
The ability to switch gender was not unique to the human species.
Damselfish switched gender to create ratios optimal for breeding. There
was also a frog native to the jungles of the Nagani River basin that
possessed this ability. Some gender switching species could change back
and forth as many times as needed. Humans were not this flexible. Only
males of our species changed, and it was only possible for us to change
during the onset of puberty. Once a male changed, he could not change
back.
Status determined who was subject to a gender change. The boys who
climbed to the top of the social hierarchy (the alphas) were safe.
These were typically the stronger, faster, and more athletic boys?the
boys who would have been the superior hunters and warriors during our
evolution. Those who were smaller and weaker ended up on the bottom of
the social pecking order and were more likely to change. I had not been
at the bottom of the pecking order that existed among the boys at Sacred
Law Middle School. I had been somewhere in the middle?the bottom middle
maybe. This was good enough, though. This would have kept me safe.
In our modern world, where food is never scarce, Mother Nature prefers a
ratio of fifty-one percent girls to forty-nine percent boys. Currently,
there was one-hundred-and-twenty-three girls and one-hundred-and-twenty-
seven boys at Sacred Law. This meant that four or five boys would have
to change over, depending on whether Mother Nature decided to round up
or down while calculating percentages.
I would not be one of those five boys as long as I maintained my spot on
the hierarchy. And my spot seemed safe because Den Herraksen thought I
was cool. He thought that the cartoons I drew during class were funny
and even asked me to draw some for him. So I was cool. Sure, I wasn't
considered cool enough for him to actually hang out with, but I was cool
enough to avoid the change.
But then, Crowley transferred to our school. Crowley had taken an
instant dislike to me. I did not know why. Perhaps he could sense that
I could be intimidated. Perhaps he could smell it on me; the way dogs
seem to be able to smell fear.
Crowley's dislike of me may not have mattered so much, had he not taken
the alpha prime position from Den. He was bigger than Den and more
athletic. He was also handsome, and the girls seemed to like him. With
the social capital this gave him, he was able to knock me from my spot
on the hierarchy. I was now on the very bottom of the bottom. The air
of aplomb that I had managed to cultivate under Den's reign as alpha
prime was now dispelled. My confidence was shattered, and I knew that I
had become vulnerable to the change. The possibility of it loomed
before me like a dark doorway. A dark doorway that I was being shoved
towards. The thought of being forced past its threshold was horrifying,
and I had to find a way to avoid it.
I decided to keep a low profile. I tried my best to stay out of
Crowley's way and to make myself invisible. If I saw him in the hallway
between classes, I made sure his view of me was blocked by other kids.
And I made sure that I got to gym class a little later?just before the
tardy bell rang?when there was a crowd in the locker room, and he would
be less likely to notice me. "He'll forget about me,' I thought.
"He'll forget about me and move on to a new target."
He didn't forget about me.
On a Wednesday, during gym class, he came up behind me and pulled down
my shorts just as the girls' gym class was trooping by in their gym
skirts. I reached down to pull my shorts back up, but I found I
couldn't. Crowley had put his foot on the waistband. My face grew warm
once again, as I heard the titter of feminine laughter.
Bullies were like vampires, I thought; they gained status by stealing it
from someone else.
"If a bully thinks that you're ready to fight him, he'll back off," my
father once told me. "He doesn't really want to fight. He wants an easy
target."
That was what I had to do. I had to act like I was ready to fight. I
had to look Crowley in the eyes and tell him to back off. My voice
could not betray my fear. I had to be cool and in control. Otherwise,
I would become a girl.
I left my house with my book bag slung over my shoulder and slumped off
down the sidewalk to the corner. Leaves were plastered down on the wet
cement. My brother Phillip walked several paces ahead of me. There was
springy confidence in his stride. My feet felt heavy and uncertain.
There was a tightness in my chest, and my head was buzzing as I thought
about the day that lay ahead of me. "Jonos, Maya, and Jovin," I prayed.
"Give me the strength I need."
I did not get a chance to face Crowley that day. I went from class to
class taught with tension, like a rubber band wound up tight. I would
snap If I wasn't able to unwind soon, but Crowley ignored me. He was
apparently not in the mood for bullying. I remained wound up tightly
all that evening, wondering when Crowley would confront me. The more
time I had to think about it, the more chance there was that I would
lose my nerve. Then, on the following day, Crowley and a couple of his
buddies came to me when I was at my locker. Finally, the moment was at
hand. "Hey Pixie," Crowley greeted. "What you got in there?your faerie
wings? Can I see 'em?"
"This is it," I told myself. "You have to do it now."
I turned to face Crowley, puffing myself up as big as I could. "Don't
call me that, Crowley," I said, trying to sound as cool as I could. My
eyes did not waver. My voice did not crack. And, still, Crowley
responded by slamming his fist into my gut.
I fell to my knees, gasping with intense pain. It hurt so bad that I
thought something had been ruptured inside me. I was then dragged
across the hall into the boys' bathroom. I felt like I couldn't
breathe. I couldn't summon any resistance, as Crowley pulled me into
one of the stalls and viciously plunged my head into a toilet. I heard
Crowley push down the lever. I heard the whoosh of the toilet flushing
and felt water swirling around my head.
"C'mon, stop that crying," my father had chided me. I was six or seven
and had been hit by a clutchball. "Crying is for girls. You don't want
to be a girl do you?"
I tried not to cry as I sat on the bathroom floor, sputtering and
coughing with toilet water dripping onto my clothes; but I felt the
tears forming in my eyes. I could hear laughter echoing off the walls
of the bathroom. Others had gathered around to watch my humiliation.
"What's going on in here boys?" I heard someone say. The voice was
sharp and authoritative. It was Brother Roby our English teacher, in
his black hooded robe. He was a bald man with a toad like face and a
round belly.
"Pyper here just had an accident is all," I heard Crowley reply with the
sound of a smirk in his voice.
"Yah," agreed another boy. He was just a bit more respectful in his
tone.
I looked up blankly at Brother Roby, toilet water dripping off my nose.
A small puddle had formed in front of me.
Roby quickly sent the other boys down to the office to see the dean.
There was a swagger in Crowley's step as he left. He knew he would
receive nothing more than a slap on the wrist for this. This was just a
case of boys being boys. No one had been hurt, at least not visibly.
The damage was only to my sense of self-respect. That had been
decimated, but they didn't punish people for that.
The following afternoon, Crowley decided to show me that being sent to
the principal's office was not going to deter him any. He shoved me in
the hallway with enough force to send me sprawling. "This is for the
detention I have to serve tonight," he told me.
Sharp pain shot through my elbow as it hit tile. My books and papers
scattered out around me. The final bell had rung and the halls were
jammed with students on their way out the front doors where the busses
were waiting for them. My things were tromped on and kicked down the
hall. I picked myself up and pushed through the throng, trying to
collect my books and papers. At first it was impossible. I was jostled
about and, just as I tried to reach for something, someone would kick it
away farther. Finally, after the traffic had begun to thin, I managed
to get my books and most of my papers, though they now were covered with
dirty footprints. I ran huffing out of the front doors just on time to
see my bus pulling away. Standing up to Crowley had not worked. It had
only made him more determined to push me back into the place he had
assigned me.
I had heard that it is not possible to pinpoint the exact moment that
the change is triggered. But I was pretty sure it was triggered at that
moment. As I watched the busses pull away, I felt something. There was
a shift in my body, and I was vaguely aware that, suddenly, I felt
different.
"Will the Commutee and his parents please rise and come to the front of
the sanctuary," the priest said.
My parents and I stood, my mom tugging at her skirt to smooth it before
stepping out of the pew. Careful not to trip over my robe, I followed
her into the center aisle. My father followed me, his expression
inscrutable. The three of us walked to the railing that wrapped around
the dais. I stepped forward and knelt before the railing while my
parents stood behind me. I could see Hale and Barnes standing on either
side of the priest. There was no betrayal of the friendship they had
shared with me in their countenance. Wearing cool and detached
expressions, they looked forward at a point down the aisle of the
sanctuary. It was just as well, I would not be able to serve as an
acolyte with them anymore. Females were not allowed on the dais during
religious ceremonies.
The first visible signs of the change had appeared about a week after
Crowley had made me miss my bus home. I was getting into my gym
uniform, feeling slightly nauseous. There was a dull ache in my head,
and I felt tired. As I grabbed my gym shirt to pull it on, I noticed
that Col Staley was peering oddly at me. "You've got Eve's Mark!" he
declared, gesturing at a faint brown stripe that ran down the length of
my belly.
I knew what the mark signified. I'd learned all about it in seventh
grade health class. It was the first sign of the change. I looked at
the brown stripe for several moments, trying to absorb the reality of
its presence. When had it appeared? I had not seen it that morning.
I pulled on my shirt and fled the locker room. In a way, I was
relieved. Relieved that this was finally over with. The game as it had
been set up was not winnable. Now, I would not be expected to play it
any longer.
"Do you, Bronson Pyper, vow before Jovin to walk the path of eve?" the
priest asked me from the other side of the railing. This part of the
ceremony was called The Interrogation. The priest held up the triangle
of law to remind me that I was bound to answer truthfully. Once again
he was standing in a shaft of light. The golden plating on the triangle
glinted brightly.
"I do," I croaked from under my hood. I didn't know if that was truth
or not. I only knew that there was no other reply possible.
During the first month, the changes progressed at a snail's pace. Most
people weren't aware of the changes, because there was not a perceptible
difference from day to day. But things picked up momentum during the
sixth week. An incredible process was occurring in which the multiple
systems of a complex organism were altering themselves dramatically to
reflect the function of a new gender. The miraculous nature of this
transformation was lost on me, however. I only grimaced, as I watched
the quickening progression of the change.
"Do you vow to accept Jovin's plan for you, embracing the role of
dutiful daughter unto him, the father of all things?"
"I do."
The priest's questions went on. How many more were posed to me, I
wasn't sure. My mind began to fade out. I just listened to his voice,
droning on, without really hearing the words. Each time he paused and
looked at me expectantly, I gave him an, "I do."
The final question was directed to my parents. Father Riggsen asked
them if they would vow to assist me in remaining true to all that was
expected of me in my new role. They, of course, responded that they
would. The priest then handed the triangle to Hale, and Hale gave him a
golden gavel in return. The priest held it up to the statue of Jovin
and declared that I was now, by Jovin's sage providence, a female in the
eyes of the church.
I was then prompted to shed my robe. I pulled back the hood, revealing
my golden brown hair, which had been allowed to grow out and now covered
my ears. I then opened the robe, shrugged it off and handed it to my
mother. I was wearing a white dress underneath. I had shot up an inch
or so during the first phase of my change, stretching out and acquiring
a willowy appearance. The dress accentuated this. The short and
slightly puffed sleeves showed slender arms that were void of muscle
tone. The scooping collar, made my neck look longer. The snug fitting
bodice contrasted against blossoming skirts and made my torso look even
more delicate. Then there was the lace on the dress. The effect of all
this was that I looked fragile like an antique china plate. I did not
like the way this made me feel.
"I present to you, Bronwyn Pyper," the priest said to the congregation.
On Monday morning, I left the house with my brother Phillip and followed
him down the sidewalk to the corner where we caught our bus. I was
tutored at home during my three-month transformation, as was customary.
This would be the first day that my classmates would see me as a girl.
My stomach was churning wildly, whether from the surges of hormones that
were not yet through with me or from panic about going back to school, I
could not fathom.
I was wearing a long, navy blue coat to keep out the damp chill. The
weatherman on the morning news had said that the fog would break by late
morning and the sun would come out. It would turn into a beautiful
spring day. Therefore, my mom gave me socks to wear. I would be too
warm if I wore tights, she decided. I wished that coping with my first
day back to school were as simple as deciding whether to wear tights or
socks.
The socks were bright white and my skirt was green plaid. It was the
uniform that girls at Sacred Law wore?a green plaid skirt, white shirt,
and green sweater. It was strange waiting at the bus stop in that
uniform, feeling the damp chilly air on my legs. I didn't like the feel
of the bra on me. It felt strange having straps across my back and over
my shoulders, like I was in some kind of nylon harness. I supposed I
would get used to all of this eventually. I supposed that no one was
offering me another choice.
After what seemed like an eternity of standing there at the stop,
flashing yellow lights showed through the fog. A moment later, the bus
emerged from the gray shroud, its breaks squealing as it came to a stop.
When the door folded open, I boarded with the others. My churning
stomach protested each rut in the road and pothole the bus' tires found,
and they found quite a few. I caught looks from the other kids on the
bus. Some were just curious. Some where amused.
I wondered what Crowley would do when he saw me. This was the pinnacle
of achievement in bullying?to bully a boy into changing. It was like
making a three point shot in clutch ball. Or like breaking the school
record in the fifty-meter dash. Surely, he would want to celebrate by
subjecting me to some new form of humiliation. Maybe he'd want to pull
up my skirt and get a look at my panties. Maybe he'd want to snap my
bra strap.
When the bus pulled into the circle drive in front of the school, I got
up and filed off with the rest of the students. I walked up the steps
in front of the school and pushed through heavy glass doors. Stone
statues of the Archangels Fabius and Androniel stood on either side of
the entranceway. I wished that they could indeed be with me.
I didn't have to wait long for a confrontation with Crowley. I was at
my locker, getting my books for my first class when he approached me.
There was a leer on his broad face and a wicked gleam in his muddy brown
eyes. He was flanked by two of his buddies. Den was nearby, too.
"What a pretty little girl you make, Pyper," Crowley said sneering. He
stroked my cheek with the back of his hand.
I just looked at him, my heart pounding.
He reached down and tugged at the hem of my skirt. I pressed my hands
onto it to keep him from pulling it up. "Move your hands," Crowley
said, "We want to see what you got in your panties."
"J?just leave me alone," I said.
Crowley's buddies chortled. "Just leave me alone," Crowley mocked. By
this time, a small crowd had gathered around us. There were more people
present to witness my humiliation. It would be all over school that
Crowley had pulled up my skirt, yanked down my panties and shown my new
snatch to everyone present.
Then out of the crowd, I heard a someone say, "Why don't you leave her
alone, Jorg." It was Den.
"Huh?" Crowley said, craning his neck to look at him.
"I said: why don't you leave her alone? Or do you like picking on
girls?" Crowley turned towards Den, glaring at him. Den stared back, a
confident smile on his face. "The boys in this school getting too tough
for you, Crowley?" he asked.
Den knew that he could not lose in this situation. If Crowley clobbered
him, he would be the one to lose face and not Den. Den was doing the
honorable thing. He was defending a girl. Clobbering someone for
defending a girl didn't make you very popular. Then again, Den had
thrown down a challenge. Walking away from a challenge also resulted in
a loss of face. So Crowley lost either way.
Not knowing what else to do, Crowley continued to glare at Den while
puffing himself up like a guvo lizard engaged in a male dominance
struggle. Maybe he thought that this display would stop him from losing
face. It just made him look like a bigger ass. He stalked off, and,
just like that, Den was the alpha prime again.
"Thanks," I told him earnestly.
He responded with a nod. Then he walked on past me to his first class.
Crowley never bothered me after that. He hardly said a word to me, in
fact. I was pretty and came from a wealthy family, which helped me to
make my way up the social ladder. Eventually, I gained greater
popularity than I had ever enjoyed as a boy. Crowley, on the other
hand, had lost status. After his little showdown with Den, people
thought he was a bit too much of a Neanderthal. The aggressive bullying
that had helped him earn status was suddenly working against him. He
couldn't hope to get a girl like me to talk to him.
Aeryn
- 13.05.2022
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