For A Beautiful Lesbian - A Tale Of The Future free porn video

It was a nice bar, he thought as he sat down at a vacant table and took a sip of his drink. The concoction of rum and butter mixed with cocoa and cinnamon and vanilla was amazingly sweet and syrupy, more like desert than a drink. It seemed to him that it might fit right in if it was served in a large beaker along with a stack of pancakes. Yes, a very nice bar, he thought again as he surveyed the room, his eyes lingering on the shapely girls gyrating together on the dance floor and chatting with the barmaid as she mixed drinks behind the counter. He had been afraid there might be some trouble when he came in - the doorwoman had been rather intimidating, warning him sternly to keep his hands to himself unless invited. Jack hadn't argued with her. She was a big woman, muscular, like something out of one of the pictures in the woman's weightlifting magazines, though older than the women in those pictures, and with a little bit of fat softening the muscle. She still looked like she could break him over one knee without breaking a sweat. Once inside, though, no one had bothered him. In fact, some of the women had seemed quite curious about him - he had noticed a number of them eyeing him with interest. And the barmaid had winked at him when he selected the drink off the display that formed the surface of the counter. It was a lesbian bar, of course. As far as Jack could tell, he was the only man in here. Probably. Not counting the doorwoman there were several butch-dykes in the room that an uninformed observer might be more likely to tag as male than Jack. Of course, that was kind of the problem. Jack sighed and adjusted his breasts, trying to get them comfortable in the pushup halter top he was wearing. He silently mouthed a command, and felt the nanofabric relax slightly. The top was uncomfortable, but it did delightful things to his bust, making them look even bigger than normal, and exposing what seemed like acres of cleavage. In Jack's opinion they were really nice breasts, too. A lot of women had breasts that sagged, or where one was bigger than the other, or which had an odd shape to them, but Jack's breasts didn't have any of those problems. They were a large C cup, perfectly symmetrical and nicely perky. And hairless - Jack had never been able to grow chest hair. In fact they were some of the nicest breasts Jack had personally seen, and he had seen a fair number - while he was hardly a womanizer, he had had more than the average number of girlfriends in his twenty-eight years. Women seemed to be attracted to his slim good looks, but they never stuck around all that long. They seemed to think he loved his work more than them. And he had never felt that special something you were supposed to feel when you were in love and ready to spend your life with someone. Sometimes he wondered if it wasn't a myth that had been made up to sell books and immersion sims. There hadn't any new women in the last few months, though. Not since he grew breasts. And that lack wasn't from want of trying, either. Women just didn't seem to take him seriously now that he could ware the same upper body garments that they did. Thanks, Mom. The breasts were his mother's fault. Or, to be precise, the fault of her Christmas gift selection. For some inexplicable reason she had got him a bottle of expensive lilac soap this Christmas. And like a idiot he had used it, instead of tossing the bottle in the back of his cabinet or regifting it to a girlfriend. And he had continued using it even after his breasts started to bud, foolishly thinking it was just some temporary swelling which would soon subside. By the time he went to a doctor the bottle of lilac soap was finished, and his breasts were well into the A cup range. And unlike the soap, they weren't finished. Far from it. The doctor had explained about gynecomastia, and inquired about soaps and bath oils. And that was when Jack realized what the lilac soap had done to him. That was four months ago. Life had been strange since. His friends and co-workers at the firm where he worked had been surprising supportive. They were a close knit group, engineers and programers and mathematicians and cognitive scientists, all working to tackle the AI problem, and they cared more for his work and his personality than how he looked. There was a good bit of joshing and questioning, of course, but nothing nasty. Ann, one of the few women working in the department, had taken him under her wing - teaching him about clothing and bras, showing him what he needed to buy to avoid painful problems, and teaching him how to keep his breasts under wraps as much as possible when dealing with meetings and so on. Not that they could be kept under wraps that much any more. And it was she that caused Jack to realize that his breasts lacked something - the sexual sensation they apparently provided to women. She had ribbed him about the self control it must take to get out of the house in the morning, now that he had three organs that could bring him to orgasm instead of just one, and Jack protested that they didn't feel better than the way his chest felt when flat, they just looked good. That was when he realized. His breasts didn't give him pleasure the way they did a woman. If what Ann said was true, she could orgasm just from breast stimulation. He came to the decision later that day that he was going to have them removed. Otherwise, it looked liked he might never get laid again. And that was why he was now sitting in a lesbian bar, making eyes at the women. The date for the surgery was three days in the future, and this was a sort of last ditch effort, a last try to see if there was a woman out there who would like him, breasts and all, before it was too late. Because, to be honest, he kind of liked having breasts. They might not do much for him touch wise, but they looked great. He had purchased a full length mirror for his bedroom just so he could bounce up and down in front of it with his shirt off. And society had become tolerant enough almost nobody bothered him about them. So when he remembered the lesbian bar he had heard of in this district, he decided to give it a shot. It would give his 'girls' a last fling, at any rate. He smiled and gave his breasts a slight squeeze through the fabric of the bra. The women in the bar seemed to fall into three categories - beautiful lipstick lesbians, fat and manly looking butch lesbians, and the ones somewhere in between. While a good many looked at him, eyeing his chest, no one showed any interest in coming over and chatting him up - and he was too shy in this environment to make the first move. It was about how he had expected it to go, actually. He would come in, spend an hour drinking odd, overly sweet drinks and looking at the pretty girls, none of whom would care to give him the time of day, and then he would leave. Oh well. At least many of the girls WERE pretty. There were worse ways to spend an hour. And day after tomorrow he would get his old life back. No more women acting like he was insufficiently manly for them, or wanting to be friends without benefits. No more breasts. Finally things would be back to normal. Why then, he wondered, did that thought make him feel sad? Forty minutes and a number of drinks later, Jack had almost decided to pack it up and head home for the evening, when she came over. She introduced herself as Gwendoline, and she was stunning. Her body was a thing of beauty, gentle curves and just the right amount of muscular development, green eyes, a cute upturned nose, good sized breasts. And her smile when she asked him what his story was, made him light headed. He wondered if it was just the fact that he had been without female interest for so long that made her seem so beautiful, or if there was really something different about her, something more than other women he had met before. Perhaps it was where they were. The idea of lesbianism had always turned him on. He ordered her a drink and told her how he came to be there, leaving out the detail that he was planning on having a mastectomy in three days. They talked, and he ordered more drinks. Gwendoline Post, was her name. She talked about her work with her sister, Margaret Post. The name seemed familiar from someplace. Cutting edge medical research, or something. And she was brilliant, and funny, and she understood when he told her about his work, and more than that she was grilling him for the details, making suggestions based on her study of biological systems. And before he knew it, he was asking if they could meet again, and she was asking if he wanted to come home with her. Her home was an apartment in Manhattan, and as he stood on the thirtieth floor balcony looking east to where the New York Skyhook soared up into space, the vacuum tube which protected the particle fountain ascending in an unbroken tower from its artificial offshore island to the blackness of space, he was forced to revise his perception of her. She came from a family with money. Jack suspected it related to her sister, Margaret Post, but his mind was too hazed with alcohol to pin down the importance of that name. The sex was good, gentle and slow, building to a crescendo of frantic striving that left them both gasping in the warmth of the afterglow. Gwendoline focused most of her attention on his breasts, licking and rubbing them, and while that did little for Jack sensation wise, the sight of the stunning woman playing with them, and the feel of her breasts against his as they kissed, brought his manhood to a steely hardness. The only acknowledgment she made of his masculinity was when she gave him a condom - and she gave him something else with it; a Stick-On dildo. He wondered about that as he entered her. Was she imagining that the rod thrusting in and out between her legs was a construct of warmed, robotically animated rubber and plastic, rather than the large thick penis he actually possessed? Why would she need such a mental trick? Still, she had been in a lesbian bar. For a moment he tried to imagine what it would be like if what she imagined were true, if instead of a flesh and blood cock jutting out of his groin, it were really flat and womanly, with the dildo attached to the smooth female flesh with nanotech smart glue, the base massaging a little nub of a clitoris as he thrust in and out. It was a strange picture, frightening and yet oddly arousing. What would it feel like to be forever denied what he was experiencing at this moment, to never again feel the warm slick squeeze of a woman's vagina around his manhood, to be forever denied entry, to instead be the one to be entered; to be soft and yielding and hollow, aching to be filled by a man's penis or some facsimile thereof? Then the orgasm came, all the more delicious for the months of drought, and coherent thought fled. *** Jack woke up the next morning alone in Gwendoline's enormous bed. One of his arms was stretched out across the depression where she had been lying, while the other cradled his breasts. The details of the night filtered into his mind slowly. He'd met someone wonderful, had gone home with her, then had terrific sex. A perfect night. He sat up, feeling the familiar swing of his bosom, and looked around the room. Where had she gone? Perhaps she was getting breakfast. Or a shower. He got up off the bed and headed toward the bathroom, tweaking his nipples as he walked past his reflection in the mirror. "Well, girls," he whispered, hefting his breasts in his hands. "Maybe there is something to be said for you after all. If this looks like it's going to work out I won't be having you lopped off any time soon." He reached out for the bathroom door knob, then stopped as the sound of a feminine sob came from behind the door. Gwendoline? Why would she be crying? He paused in indecision, finally rapped softly in the door. "Gwen? You in there? Something wrong?" No answer except for a louder sob. He hesitated again, then grasped the door knob. The door wasn't locked, and he pushed it open a crack, looked in. Gwendoline was sitting on top of the toilet lid, naked, her long legs pulled up to her chin and her arms wrapped around them. Her eyes were red and puffy as she looked up at him, and her face was streaked with tears, but she was still heart-stoppingly beautiful. Embarrassingly, Jack felt himself beginning to grow erect, and he lowered a hand in an attempt to hide the unwanted reaction. "What's wrong," he asked in a concerned voice, easing the door open the rest of the way. She dabbed uselessly at her streaming eyes, then lowered her face to her knees and sobbed again. Jack looked at her in perplexity, going over the night in his memory, trying to find what could have caused this. "What's wrong?" he asked again. "Please tell me, Gwen. Was it something I did?" She shook her head violently. "N-no! No! It's nothing that you... it's me, it's all me. I'm sorry!" "Calm down," said Jack soothingly. "Just tell me what's wrong and I'm sure you'll feel better, at least a little." She looked at his face through her tears for a moment, then he saw her eyes dart to his groin and she dropped her face back on her knees. He looked down at his erection in embarrassment, his hand ineffectually held in front of it. He dropped his hand. Her voice was muffled. "I really liked talking to you, I felt like we had something, a connection of some kind - " "I felt the same," said Jack. "You were so nice and smart a-and I thought I could ignore it, that the breasts would be enough, that it wouldn't be any different." "Ignore what?" asked Jack, but he already knew. "You know." She gestured at his groin. He looked down at his manhood. Yep, still erect. Idiot thing. Jack walked past her and sat down on the edge of the bathtub, reached out a hand to touch her, then thought better of it and drew it back. "It's my fault," he said gently. "I don't know what I was hoping for, going to a place like that. I'm sorry if I made you do something you weren't prepared for. It's just, the mastectomy is three days away and... I'm sorry. I was an idiot. Can you forgive me?" "M-mastectomy?" she asked haltingly. "Yes. Its been months since any woman would take me seriously with these... You're the first since I, well, became obvious." She calmed down then, and Jack went out and foraged in the kitchen while she took a shower. The view from her apartment really was stunning, he decided as he munched on a self-cooking hamburger sandwich fruit. The building was right on the waterfront looking out to sea, away from the tangle of skytram traffic, and he could almost make out the base of the space fountain tower in the distance. Closer an enormous cargo train was accelerating up from the eastern end of Manhattan, the football field sized cube rising atop the arc of cable that was the Bridge, an active powered structure that connected Manhattan to the Skyhook base island twenty miles offshore. The Bridge was essentially a miniature launch loop, an arc of huge cables which rose into the sky unsupported except at either end, held up by the momentum of the rotor speeding along within each great cable. It was mind boggling in a way the Skyhook sometimes failed to be, because it was smaller, closer to the human scale, easier to grasp. Gwendoline watched Jack in silence as he dressed after his turn in the shower, making no comment as he put on his bra and blouse. He wondered about it, but the attention was not unstimulating. When he was finished she spoke up before he had a chance to say anything. "Do you have some free time today? Because I'd like to show you something, if it's alright. You'd get to meet my sister, if that's any incentive." "Your sister...? You said her name was Margaret Post. It seemed familiar, but - oh." Jack had remembered the name. Margaret Post was the inventor of the magfreeze. After Charles Niven made the breakthrough in room temperature superconductors and magnetics which made things like the Skyhook and cheap fusion power possible, Margaret Post had found a biological application - the magfreeze. If a water rich object such as a human body was placed in a powerful oscillating magnetic field, it could be cooled to far below the freezing point without any ice crystal formation. What this basically meant was that no one had to die ever again. Anyone with a life threatening injury could be frozen on the spot and warmed back up when conditions were perfect for the best care. And if someone had a terminal condition, such as cancer or old age, they could arrange to be frozen until scientific knowledge had advanced far enough to provide a cure. It had also given rise to some odd social phenomena among the rich, such as living only one year out of every five and spending the rest of the time frozen. Rumor had it that Margaret Post had joined Charles Niven's megacompany, Niven Dynamics, and was working in the biotech field. It was an accepted fact that development of biotech had lagged behind the space and physical sciences after Niven's great discovery. Those who had been frozen in the hope of a cure for cancer or old age were still waiting. Margaret was one of the many working to remedy that deficiency. Jack most definitely wanted to meet her. And he would also jump at any chance to spend more time with Gwendoline, despite her reaction toward sex with him. They took a skytram headed to the Niven Tower, boarding from the thirty- first floor. Jack sat back and relaxed, activating his contact lenses, as the tram hummed through the air, smoothly swapping from one superconducting cable to another with its robotic arms and merging into the flow of traffic that crowded the air between the skyscrapers. The skytram network always gave Jack a sense of accomplishment. A part of the AI system that ran it, seamlessly managing the flow of traffic and ensuring that every tram made it to its destination in the shortest possible time, was a product of his team. He closed his eyes and skillfully navigated the virtual the world of his company workspace, checking in with his team and tweaking the various projects, subvocalizing as he talked with individual teammates, the images flowing past on the contact lenses which he wore. Beside him Gwendoline also had her eyes shut, and he could see her mouth moving slightly in the little inset monitor box on the top of his sensorium. Below him, under the cluttered mass of skytrams which filled the space between and above the buildings, the streets of Manhattan were wide ribbons of green grass, dotted with trees. People walked along the paths of the park which webbed the island and picnicked in the shade of the skytrams. The city was silent in a way which would have been profoundly disturbing to a resident from forty or fifty years earlier, the roar of engines and the honking of horns replaced by the barely registered hum of the skytrams, nearly lost beneath the sound of human voices As they neared the Niven Tower, Gwendoline started to talk about her work with her sister, and Jack shut down his contacts so he could give her his undivided attention. It was something he would have done even if she wasn't there. He liked to watch the approach to the Tower, and he was technically on vacation at the moment, only checking in at work out of habit. The tower was a colossal extravagance, a symbol of Niven Dynamic's power as the largest corporation on the planet. The Tower rose vertically ten miles from the Hudson river. Within it, six particle streams supported its mass in the same way as the Skyhook was supported, each one powered by an independent fusion plant in the basement. It could continue to stand with only two streams still running. And like the Skyhook, it was armed. Railguns sat in bubbles on its surface, capable of delivering a pinpoint strike of near nuclear power to any approaching threat. Jack also worked within the Tower, on a lower floor than the one Gwendoline had told the sky tram to go to. And like everything in the building, his research was a part of Niven Dynamics *** Margaret Post was a pleasant, good looking woman about ten years older than Gwendoline. She introduced herself as the head of Niven Dynamic's bio-medtech division, and listened with apparent interest as Gwendoline explained Jack's breasts, much to Jack's embarrassment. "It certainly would be a shame to remove them, although, like my sister, I AM biased in that department," she said. "But if that's what you want, I can certainly do a much better job than any doctor. I can have you flat chested and all healed up in two minutes, one hundred percent guaranteed. Better than new." She looked at him sideways. "But first I think my sister wants me to tell you about the alternative. It also involves the removal of something, but I think it is something you would hardly miss, especially once you got used to the replacement." Jack's interest was peaked, and he followed her as she showed him various pieces of high tech equipment and explained about the advances she had made. She showed him magfreeze containers which held organs, the organs of people who were awake and alive, living using clones she had grown from these organs, clones without the damage or defects of the originals. She showed him the results of her research on tailored tissue injections, a process which could be used to completely alter the bone structure of a human body over a period of weeks. And finally she showed him the surgery autoclav, a table surrounded by robotic devices which could perform major surgery, and then heal the patient completely using nanotech skin and nerve regeneration, in minutes. "This is the latest in cutting edge technology, fabulously expensive," said Margaret. "It will come to market eventually, though, and within the decade if I have my way. In the mean time I'm happy to help out a friend of my sister's, and get a bit more test data in the process." "So just say the word, take off your clothes, and lie down on the table, and I'll have you flat chested and all healed up and ready to go home in two minutes flat. No pain, no grogginess, no side effects. Sound good?" Jack nodded vigorously. "Indeed, Ms. Post. It sounds wonderful." "Call me Margaret. And there's another option. Give me five minutes, and I can have the autoclav take your genitals right off and have you all healed up. That is, your penis, testicles, prostrate, and the other internals. I'll magfreeze them and clone a complete female reproductive system from them. That'll take about two weeks. Then you come on back and I'll implant them, easy as pie." She chuckled. "A couple of tailored tissue injections after the removal to change your bone structure, and you'll be physically completely female. And it's completely reversible. I can reimplant your original genitals at any time. Plus a week or two to undo the bone structure changes." Jack was staring at her with his mouth open. "This isn't a new procedure for me, and the results have always been perfect - actually, let me just show you." She subvocalized, and a minute later a pretty young woman in a lab coat, slim and attractive with good sized breasts, came jogging in. "What is it, Margaret?" she asked. Her voice was high and musical, as attractive as her body. "This is Jack, a friend of my sister. He's considering changing teams, and I thought he might like to see you." Jack was still flabbergasted. Now he gaped at the young woman. "You - you used to be - ?" he stuttered. She nodded. "Hi, Jack. I'm Sam. Yes, I used to be a man. Not at all a feminine one, either. Now I'm all girl." She put an arm around Margaret's waist. "And believe me, it's the best decision I've ever made. I never had so much fun with another person as I've had with Margaret since I changed. If you get my drift." She winked. Jack's eyes were going back and forth between them rapidly. "You - ?" he began. Margaret laughed. "Yes," she said gently. "We're together. In fact, we're married." Sam proudly held up her hand, showing the wedding ring. "And I can tell you one other thing," Margaret said, once Sam had left. "Gwen would be ecstatic if you said yes. She must really like you. She wouldn't bring just anyone to me." "Margaret!" said Gwendoline warningly. "Now, sis, it's best to be open about these things." Jack's shock had faded. He turned towards the autoclav, his mind whirling. The thought was so seductive, like the urge to step off when standing on the edge of a tall building. Just one step, and the end of everything. Just say yes and lie down, and the machine would cut off his cock and balls; SLICE, and the organs which had dominated so much of his life since adolescence would be gone. It would be the work of but five minutes, hardly any more trouble having a mole removed. He would lie down a complete man, with a large and well formed cock, and get up off the table five minutes later with a smooth crotch, a eunuch, two weeks from being completely female. And Gwendoline wanted it. She wanted him to be a woman for her. She was lesbian and wanted him to be, also. He could be with her, have sex with her - love her - for more and more he considered her the most wonderful woman he had ever met. All he had to do was get rid of the appendage hanging between his legs, traded it in for what she had. His cock was as erect as it had ever been, straining against his underwear. The idea of being a lesbian, of being with a woman with no male equipment between them, of being exactly the same as her, equal with her. Of laying with her, yet having no way to get inside her. He looked down at the bulge in his pants. If he did this he would never had another erection again. His eyes focused on his breasts. What the hell. He was already part woman. Why not experience the full package. And it wasn't irreversible. He turned back to the two women, met Gwendoline's eyes. They were full of pleading, of fear. For a moment he thought he could see what she was afraid of. She was afraid that he didn't care as much for her as she did for him, that he was going to cling to a false sense of biological superiority rather than consent to become her equal. Or maybe he was just imagining that. Whatever, he wasn't going to refuse. Why should he? Lesbians had always excited him, and now a beautiful lesbian was offering him a chance to be one. It wasn't even like he would have to deal with menstruation. Science had long since banished that to a distant memory, a bizarre bit of history that young women talked and wondered about. Jack looked her in the eye and nodded once, sharply. "Yes," he said. His heart leapt as her beautiful face filled with joy. She ran forward and hugged him, pressing her breasts to his, kissing him over and over. "Thank you, thank you," she gasped. Under Margaret's direction he stripped and lay down on the cold table. He tried ineffectually to cover his erection with his hands, but she brushed them aside. "It's nothing to be ashamed of," she said. "There's nothing that makes a man as excited as losing it. Sam's last erection was so big I thought she was going to burst." As she injected him, Jack asked, "How many have you done?" "This will remove all pain, but leave other sensations clear." "How many have I done?" She thought for a moment. "I'd say about three hundred and fifty, give or take." "Wow!" said Jack. "How many asked to be changed back afterwards?" She grinned. "None. No one that completed the change has ever asked to turn back." She stopped a moment, sighed. "Of course, a few didn't complete it. I'd say about twenty asked for reimplantation of their genitals before I got their female parts ready. It gets frustrating, not having anything between your legs. But on the gripping hand, about half of those asked me to cut them back off within a month. So, not that many failures." "But how can that be?" asked Jack. "How can none of them have wanted to go back? They can't all have been transgender?" She laughed. "Oh, no! Only a few of them were transgender. Most of them were as manly as can be, a lot more so than you, with those lovely breasts of yours. No, it's my belief that the male genitals are a flawed design, almost numb compared to what a woman has between her legs. And something else I believe is that in ten years very few people will still have a penis. As soon as this technology goes mainstream and people have a chance to try both sides of the fence, the penis will become obsolete, as rare as the abacus. But enough talk. Lets do this." She stepped back and the table whirred to life. Dozens of arms darted about his naked form, and in moments every bit of hair not on his head was gone. Then a transparent sleeve descended over his groin, engulfing his throbbing manhood. A bundle of manipulators like fine wires unfurled from a central cable and massaged his penis for a moment before they penetrated, slipping into his flesh in a ring around his cock and balls. He could feel them inside his abdomen, slicing and cutting as they rooted out every vestige of his doomed manhood as though it were a tumor. But there was no pain. Instead there was an overwhelming tickling sensation. He giggled uncontrollably as the machine sliced through the roots of his penis, pulling the unwanted organ further and further away from his body. His balls were already separated from him, attached now only to his almost severed cock via the scrotum. Then the machine pulled his cock and balls away from his body about six inches, and stopped. An almost transparent string of flesh still connected him to his manhood, and amazingly he could still feel it, still feel the squeeze of the manipulators as they grasped it, still feel a delicious sensation of pleasure as one of them stroked the glans. His cock no longer throbbed - it was no longer connected to his circulatory system - but it was still more erect than it had ever been in his life. Women might have more sensitive genitals, Jack thought, but I bet they never feel that, the wonderful hardness of an erection, the sensation of irrepressible thrusting readiness. Then a tendril casually snipped the final connection, and it was finished; numb, no longer there. His penis was gone, and he was no longer male. More tendrils penetrated his groin, tickling him again as they rooted out the last vestiges and healed the damage, but he hardly noticed; he had eyes only for his detached package as a cluster of tendrils winched it up the clear tube. Half way up they stopped and a port opened in the side of the tube. The tendrils thrust his severed cock and balls out into Gwendoline's waiting hands. "It really is a good big one, isn't it," she said. "Don't worry, Margaret will take good care of it for you." She waggled it, making his balls swayed side to side, then stroked it gently. Jack still couldn't believe that it was gone, that a beautiful women was stroking his cock beside him and he couldn't feel a thing because it wasn't his any more, was no longer part of his body. He was tempted to scream bloody murder and demand that it be put back on this instant, but he saw the happiness and excitement on her face, and he couldn't bear to ruin it. She grinned at him and slid the cock down into her cleavage so that the balls rested on top of her breasts. "Want to play with it some? We've got about twenty minutes before it dies of oxygen starvation." She danced backwards. "Come and get it, you man, you!" Jack looked down. The machine was finished with his groin. There wasn't even a scar there to show he had once been male, just a small dimple where he supposed his penis used to be attached, although his groin looked so different now it was hard to tell. "Hold still for ten seconds more," said Margaret warningly. He held still, and suddenly dozens of robotic arms tipped with needles rose up around him and stabbed down. There was no pain, but he still yelled as needles slid into him everywhere, his face, his breasts, his hips, his legs; needles even came up through the table to penetrate his underside. And they went deep; he could feel them grate on bone in places. Then the needles were gone, and the machine relaxed, whirring to its rest state. "All finished!" said Margaret brightly. He sat up off the table, looked at his groin with disbelieving eyes. Nothing, not even a pee hole, just that mocking little dimple. With the hair gone he couldn't even tell what used to attach at that point. Had his penis really emerged from his abdomen that far down? Or was that where his balls had been? Now that he thought about it, he couldn't even remember precisely how his balls HAD attached. Were they a separate entity below his cock, only connected to it at their top? Or had they really been the way they now looked as they lay on Gwendoline's breasts, more a part of his penis than anything else? But the way they looked now was not a good indication - there was no raw flesh visible on the base of his severed cock - it had obviously been altered after separation, fresh skin grown over the cut. But he remembered being able to push his balls up inside his groin. Which meant the dimple probably WAS where his balls attached. Yes, it was too low for his penis. Probably. So that patch of blank skin above the dimple was all that remained of his cock? Really? It really bugged Jack that he couldn't even remember precisely where his genitals had been. He should have payed more attention while he was still a man. But didn't really make any difference, did it? Because in two weeks time he would have new genitals, female ones. He slowly brought his hand down to his groin, suddenly sure that it was fake, that this was just a dream, or a prank overlay in his contact lenses. It was unthinkable that seconds ago he had been unmanned. But his hand encountered nothing. There was nothing between his legs but smooth, ordinary, hairless skin. He rubbed it, wonderingly. Nothing, nothing at all. Even the dimple was... nothing, just a meaningless little depression. He pressed harder, feeling the tendons and big muscles that connected to his legs, and his pubic bone. But not least the least trace of his genitals. Nothing sexual at all. "I'm sorry Jack, but there's going to be nothing interesting in that area for a couple weeks," said Gwendoline. The sound of her voice shocked him out of the rut his mind had fallen into and he looked up. She had taken his penis out of her cleavage and had the foreskin pulled back and the head inside her mouth as she licked it like a popsicle. "But I got something here that used to belong to you. Do you have the balls to take it back?" She giggled and waggled his balls at him. Jack burst out laughing, at her, at the situation, at the tube of flesh that she held in her hands which had been such an important part of him and his life since birth, and was now little more than an exotic dildo. He jumped up off the table and made a lunge for his severed manhood, marveling at the strange, exhilarating feeling of being flat down there, of there being nothing between his legs but empty air. Gwendoline danced backwards, waving his penis teasingly. Margaret shook her head. "I'll just leave you two alone for a bit. Be back in fifteen to collect the 'package.' Have fun." Jack chased Gwendoline around the room, both of them laughing, she shedding clothing as she ran. Finally she stopped with her back to the window wall that looked out on the city, eight miles below. She wore only her panties now, and she had her hands raised above her head. She had his genitals in her right hand, and was gripping them by the balls so that his package rather resembled a pistol. "Don't shoot," she said in a fake western drawl. "I surrender and am willin' to throw down my gun. You've got me." "Throw down - ! Don't you dare. Hand that weapon over all genital' like, or things will go badly for you, missy!" Jack growled in his best imitation of a western accent, which was dreadful. She laughed. "Genital like! Well, if you insist." And she stepped forward and put his severed cock and balls gently in his hands, then threw her arms around him and covered his mouth with hers, pressing the length of her delightful body into him; breasts squishing against breasts, smooth crotch against smooth crotch, her tongue darting into his mouth. Chasing after her had surely been one of the strangest moments of Jack's life, almost as strange as watching the autoclav cut off his penis. He'd been naked, chasing a lovely girl who was teasing him for all she was worth. And pulling her off clothes as she ran. He should have had an erection that wouldn't quit, his engorged member should have slapped against his leg with every step. But of course it didn't. He no longer had anything to get an erection with. And if what Margaret said was true he would never have the equipment to have one again. By his own choice. Now Gwendoline broke the kiss and put her mouth to Jack's ear. "Take me," she breathed. "I want to feel your cock inside me." And she ground her pussy against Jack's flat and sexless groin. She led him over to the autoclav and lay back on the table, spreading her legs. Jack marveled at the strangeness of the situation as he pumped his severed manhood in and out of her dripping pussy. If someone had told him when he woke up that morning that in just a few hours he would have become a eunuch and be using his disembodied genitals as a dildo on his lesbian girlfriend - well he would have laughed in that person's face. Yet here he was. For a moment he wondered how Gwendoline could be so excited by his penis, now that it was no longer part of his body, after she had been so upset in the bathroom that morning by having had sex with him the night before. But the answer was obvious. The thing in his hand wasn't part of a man any more. It wasn't masculine. It was just a dildo. One made of flesh rather than rubber, one more interesting because it used to be the real thing, but in the end, just a dildo. Gwendoline got more and more excited as he continued pumping, using her hands to fondle and squeeze Jack's breasts, until finally she screamed aloud as she orgasmed. She lay still for a few moments afterwards, then got up and began collecting her clothing from where it lay scattered across the floor and putting it on. "That was wonderful," she said. Jack looked at his cock sadly. It was covered in pussy juice; droplets of her cum dripped from the balls. And it was so hard in his hand. He squeezed it, pulled back the foreskin and rubbed the glans. How could I give it up, he wondered? How could I have agreed give up the ability to have sex with a woman, to penetrate her, to be in her? "I wish I could have felt it," he said aloud. She saw the look on his face and went to him, put her hand on his shoulder. "I know it's hard at first. I've seen it with other men. But it two weeks you'll have something so much better than a penis. You'll be a woman. And you won't even have to wait till then to orgasm. One of those injections you got was a hormone booster. That, plus the tailored tissue that was injected in your breasts, and your tits are going to be so sensitive in a few days that you'll be able to get off just from playing with them. Believe me, you haven't lost anything except a couple pounds of useless flesh." He nodded slowly. "I guess. It's one way to lose some weight fast. Doubt my friends would be interested in the suggestion, though." Gwendoline chuckled. "You'd be surprised." She reached out and slowly pulled his cock and balls out of his hand. He let go reluctantly. "Only a few minutes till this needs to be frozen. Do you want to suck on it or anything before Margaret gets back?" Jack shook his head. "Naw, I've never been into that kind of thing." "Well, then..." She set his severed manhood down on the table. "You might as well get dressed and I'll freeze it." She got a magfreeze container out of a storage cabinet beside the autoclav while Jack picked up his clothes. He pulled his boxers on first. As soon as the nanoweave came into contact with his groin, they began to change, the smart material noting the absence of male equipment between his legs and rapidly reconfiguring into a pair of panties. He grimaced, but continued dressing. There was no point overriding the change. Might as well get used to panties sooner rather than later. He was already used to a bra. His pants also changed when he put them on. They were set to BlueJean mode, and the extra material between his legs immediately vanished, the material pulling up snug against his panties. It felt weird, but he couldn't deny that it was also pretty comfortable. Jack looked over at Gwendoline, expecting her to still be getting the magfreeze ready, but she was already finished. His disembodied cock and balls were safely suspended inside the transparent container, preserved at a temperature hundreds of degrees below the freezing point of water. *** Jack stayed with Gwendoline again that night, spooning up against her back and listening to her gentle breathing as she slept. He had trouble getting to sleep, himself. His last glimpse of his genitals kept running through his mind, his engorged penis floating inside the magfreeze container as Margaret walked away with it, the organ suspended by hundreds of almost invisible threads that held it away from the walls of the container, his testicles hanging down slightly below the severed base of the penis. It could stay that way for a long time, he knew. As long as the container had power it would remain, unchanging. In a thousand years, hell, ten thousand years if someone kept it plugged in that long, it would be just the same, still erect, still denied a last release. His final erection could last forever. Jack slid a hand down between his legs and touched the smooth, flat skin of his groin. Yes, it was really real. He moved his hand up onto his stomach and then back downward, past the place where he should have encountered tumescent flesh. More than anything, that simple movement brought home the reality of his changed body. He sighed and removed his hand, nestled up closer against Gwendoline, and felt the swell of her buttocks push into his groin and comfortably fill the void between his legs. *** The next morning they had made love, Jack using the Stick-On Gwendoline had given him their first night together. It was maddening, having her sexy body writhe beneath him, moving his hips in the familiar pattern of penetration, yet being able to feel nothing except a dull pressure where the dildo pushed against the flat skin at the juncture of his thighs. On the other hand, his breasts were already more sensitive, and fleeting sensations of warmth and tingling darted through his body when Gwendoline stimulated the nipples with her tongue. "It won't be much longer before you'll be able to experience part of what I feel during sex, and girl, it will blow your mind," she told him. After he kissed her goodby and she left for work, Jack took a skytram back to his place. On the way he opened a vid-link to his doctor's office and told the pretty receptionist that he was canceling the mastectomy. "Do you want to reschedule it for later?" she asked. Jack shook his head. "I've decided to keep my breasts. Met a girl who likes it." He spent some time doing housework around his apartment, getting used to the way it felt to move and bend without the familiar weight of his masculinity between his legs. After a while he lay down on the couch and brought up the latest AI iterations on his contact lenses, falling into a four hour work fugue as he tweaked the latest trinary code species and co-ordinated with his team on the rewrite of the evolutionary compiler which had been ongoing for the last year. When Jack finally came back to awareness of his physical surroundings, he realized he needed to pee badly. And he was hungry. He walked to the bathroom, then stood stupidly in front of the toilet for several seconds, fumbling inside his pants, before he remembered that he no longer belonged to that portion of the population that could pee standing up. I guess I may as well leave the seat down from now on, he thought as he sat down. Margaret had told him that the autoclav had rerouted his urethra so that it came out below where his genitals used to be, and he was slightly worried that he might have some difficulty. However it went smoothly, in fact he found that it was easier to pee while sitting without a penis, because he didn't have to press it down with one hand to keep from making a mess. That wasn't so bad, Jack thought as he wiped front to back. I think I could get to like this. Especially with a girl like Gwendoline as part of the bargain. *** Jacks breasts got more and more sensitive each day, and when he left for his first day back in the lab since his castration and penectomy, his body was still aglow with the sensations which had surged through him as Gwendoline played with his breasts during their morning love making session. Already the intensity of pleasure was more than his penis had been capable of, and he missed his manhood less with each passing day. It was strange being back at the lab, talking with the other team members and together, knowing that the last time he had been here and had spoken to these people in person he had been a man. Now he was a dickless eunuch No one seemed to notice his changed body, though, except to ask why he still had his breasts. Of course the changes weren't all that noticeable yet. Jack's hips had widened slightly while his waist narrowed, and he had lost an inch or two of height. Also, when he looked in the mirror, he thought his face had softened a bit, the features becoming finer and more feminine. But there was nothing besides a few longer than normal glances when they thought he wasn't looking. And Jack wasn't even sure about that. He could well be imagining the stares, projecting out of his nervousness about what people might think. And no one questioned his excuse about putting the mastectomy off because he had found a girlfriend who liked him better with the breasts than without. It was a productive day. While telepresence theoretically made coming in to work at a fixed location obsolete, in practice people worked better if they had a place where personal distraction was left behind. Jack had been recruited for the AI team three years prior, due to his work in the emerging field of trinary coding, the discipline which currently looked like it held the most promise in the race to develop a working strong AI, due to trinary code's inherent ability to deal with uncertainty. After joining the team, Jack had developed the ideas behind the evolutionary autocompiler, the program which they were currently rewriting to allow for increased flexibility and scale. The autocompiler basically allowed trinary programs to write themselves, letting the team pit ever evolving AI prototypes against each other in a virtual test bed, taking the best from each prototype and integrating it into the next generation AI. It was this method which had finally resulted in a real product a year earlier; the program which ran the skytram network. It was at the end of the day, when work was mostly finished, that Jack realized that he had misjudged the team. They hadn't failed to notice the changes, they were just being polite. Jack was getting a bite to eat with his friend Robert at the food court, when Robert asked about Gwendoline. Robert listened closely while Jack described her, going on about how smart and funny and beautiful she was, and raised his eyebrows slightly when Jack talked about how good she was in bed. Finally Robert said, "She sounds wonderful, Jack, she really does. And I can understand why you kept the breasts, if she's into that. But the other - Well, it seems to me you're going a bit far, even for the perfect woman. How can she be so great in bed, when you don't even have anything now to, you know, 'do it' with her?" And he gestured towards Jack's groin. Jack looked down, suddenly realizing how tight his pants were, and how obvious it was that he was totally flat down there. He silently cursed himself for an idiot. Of course everyone could see that he was missing his male equipment. He should have realized, but he wasn't used to thinking about how his pants looked on him. He wasn't really a clothes kind of person. The pants were nice and comfortable, so he hadn't given it much thought. Jack looked back up at Robert, saw the genuine concern in his friend's eyes. "You knew -?" he asked. Robert nodded. "Not just me, dude. Ann saw it first and asked the rest of us. I realized as soon as I looked. And it's not just that just that you've had your junk removed. You look like a woman, more than having breasts. I get that this girl's great and all, but damn! How are you going to get off? What are going to do with her? Look, but don't touch?" Jack took a deep breath and then started recounting exactly what had happened. He saw Robert's face relax slightly as he described the autoclav. "So you can get it put back on?" he asked hopefully when Jack finished. "Yes," said Jack. "But that's not the point. Gwendoline's a lesbian, and another week and a half and I'll be one too, all woman. Just think about it, Robert. What wouldn't you do to be with a beautiful lesbian?" Robert nodded slowly. "I see your point. I very well might get my dick chopped off to be with woman like that, especially if I could get it reattached later." "Exactly! But I'll tell you something, I don't think I'm going to get it put back on, ever." Robert raised his eyebrows in an expression of disbelief. "Really?" "Really. You wouldn't believe how great it feels to have my breasts played with now. It's sooo much better than what I used to feel with my dick. And I'm not even female where it counts, yet. I can't wait till I get a pussy so I can experience a real orgasm. I'm convinced that what Margaret said is true; compared to what a woman feels, the penis is about as sensitive as, well, as about half of one breast. And even that may be stretching it." "Hmmm." Robert expression was thoughtful. Jack hadn't completely realized his feelings until he put them into words. Now that he had said it, though, he realized he had said was exactly right. So far, cutting off his penis had been the best decision he ever made. He looked at Robert, but the man's eyes were glazed, his mind far away. Finally Jack reached out at poked him, realizing with a nervous thrill how feminine his hand and arm already looked. His body had been changing today while he worked, and changing fast. Robert gave a little jump, his eyes focusing. "Huh? Oh, sorry." Jack shook his head. "Just call them in." "Who?" "The rest of the team, dummy. I know they've been watching through your rig, and you were just messaging them." H waved at Robert. "Come on in, guys, I'm on to you." "No," said Robert. "Er, that is, they were watching, but I wasn't talking to them just now. I was, well..." He trailed off. The door opened and the rest of the team walked into the food court, eight guys and Ann. "Er, just out of curiosity," said Robert quickly. "What's your girlfriend's full name?" Jack gave him a look. "Gwendoline Post. Why? Going to give her the third degree?" "Hmm? No, no. Not at all. I just had some inquiries..." Then the rest of the guys were around them, trying not to act awkward, and asking questions. What did it really feel like, losing your penis? Could the physical changes, the hips and waist and so on, be reversed? Could he orgasm yet? Ann was grinning at him. "So you decided to try how the other half does it, eh? I say, good for you. We could use some more girls on the team." *** Four days later Jack was completely female, apart from his sexless groin. Gwendoline said he was beautiful, and Jack tended to agree. His face was delicate and refined, there was no longer a hint of an adam's apple in his throat, and the curve of his waist and hips was so attractive that just looking in a mirror made him excited. And his legs were terrific, shapely and slender, just right for wrapping around Gwendoline as they made love on the bed in her apartment. His voice had changed too, rising and softening as his adam's apple vanished, until not just his body, but also his voice was that of a sexy woman. Jack could also feel his emotional responses changing, a process which was frightening as well as exhilarating. The ordinary stuff of his day to day life seemed different, more meaningful. Little things, the way Gwendoline looked at him when she kissed him, the feel of her hands on his breasts, the dying glow of a sunset touching the city with golden light, all of it had the ability move him in a way he had never experienced as a man, to make his spirit soar in ecstasy or bring tears of sadness to his eyes. More and more his life before the change seemed gray and colorless, memories of a testosterone deadened existence that now seemed almost unendurable. Sometimes the loss of control was terrifying, but the fear was secondary to the wonder of discovering a new world bursting with sensation and feeling. He loved physical contact, the way it felt to have Gwendoline hold him close and tell him how beautiful he was, to feel her breasts on his face and breath in the rich odor of her femininity. His greatest fear was that the changes to his mind would impact his work, that he would lose the sharpness and insight that his life centered around. But if anything, the opposite seemed to be true. Now problems which before would have required minutes or hours of laborious figuring sometimes came to him in brilliant flashes of intuition. It was the same with others who went through the process, Gwendoline told him. In fact, her sister would no longer employ men in her department unless they consented to the removal of their manhood. The benefits were simply too great. As long as they worked with her, they would do so as women. After they were finished they could go back to being male. Of course, none ever wanted to change back. That morning, Jack had sex with Gwendoline, first going down on her, than holding the base of the Stick-On dildo to his groin until it was firmly attached, and penetrating her while she played with his breasts. Sometimes he liked to activate the Stick-On's feedback setting, and now he could feel the base vibrating and stroking his flat groin each time he thrust into Gwendoline, the device trying to stimulate his non-existent clitoris. He could only imagine how good it would feel once he actually had female genitals. Gwendoline said it was the best sex aid she had ever owned. It was also extremely realistic. When he put it on it looked as though he had a penis again. The transition from his skin to the heated material of the Stick-On was almost seamless. It was interesting to look down at his groin as he slid it in and out of Gwendoline, the device appearing to connect their bodies the same way his penis used to, back when he'd still had one. He still missed the sensation of being inside her; that and the thrusting urgency of an erection. Afterwards, as they lay together on the bed holding each other, Gwendoline spoke. "You may notice something interesting at the lab today." She was a little breathless. "Hmm? What kind of thing?" He was still amazed at the voice that came out every time he opened his mouth. It was so different, so feminine, so sexy. "It's sort of a surprise, Jackie." Jackie was what she called him a lot, now. He had decided he liked it. "Just be careful when you see what I'm talking about. Don't hurt - well, you'll see." *** Jack remembered her words later that day at lunch. As a rule the team ate together at a large table in the food court, commonly discussing problems or blowing off steam by joking about the day's work. That day Ann was repeatedly darting glances at Robert, who had been uncharacteristically quiet. Finally she burst out, "You did it too, didn't you?" The conversation came to a halt. "Did what?" asked George. Robert colored to his ears and looked down at his plate, nervously toying with his food. "It took me a little while to notice - he's not as far along. But I'm sure of it. He had the procedure, just like Jack," said Ann. "You mean he - you had your dick chopped off?" said Eddy in a disbelieving tone. Robert nodded slowly, still blushing furiously. He looked up. "I hope it won't be a problem," he said hesitantly. Ann shook her head vigorously. She seemed a little embarrassed for bringing it out in the open. "Why would it be?" She looked around. "Right, guys?" "Of course not," said George. The rest of them shook their heads. "I'm happy to have company," said Jack, grinning at Robert across the table. "It's no problem, of course," said Eddy. "I just didn't realize that you were - that you wanted to be a woman." "Hey," said Jack. "I wasn't interested in becoming a woman, and look at me now." He ran a hand down the curve of his hip, cocked it there. "Yeah, but you got a girlfriend who's into it," said Eddy. "That's different." "Well, I saw how much fun it seemed to be for Jack, how happy it made her," said Robert. "Hell, she even codes better now than she used to. And you know I don't see much action. So I figured, why not? It's reversible. And if I turn out even half as pretty as Jack, I should be able to find a lesbian girlfriend like she has, no problem." Robert's use of the feminine pronoun, she, startled Jack. Others had used it before, but had always immediately corrected themselves. But SHE was right. Jack was a she now, not a he. And on that note she might as well take some of the attention off of Robert. "I've got an announcement, too, guys," Jack said, tapping on her plate with a fork. She saw Robert give her a grateful look. "From now on I'd like you to call me Jackie. I just don't think I'm really a 'Jack' any more." *** The day before Jackie took the final step to becoming female, the team lost two more men. George and Tom came in to work sporting identical flat crotches. Robert, who was blossoming nicely, her breasts almost as large as Jackie's C cups, and was now going by the name Robin, asked George about it while they printed an AI/environmental interaction robot for a new experiment, the three of them, Jackie, Robin, and George, standing around the printer, watching it grow and assemble the parts. "Well, you know I've always had a thing for Tom," explained George. Tom was one of the other team members. "But Tom's straight as an arrow. So I thought, what if we were both girls? I asked him yesterday, sorta joking around, and well, he thought it over for a minute or two and then he said yes! I couldn't believe it, but I called Gwendoline quick, all worried that she wouldn't answer or that it wouldn't be possible, but no, she said to come right up. I guess she has all Jackie's coworkers on her friends list." He paused for a moment, rubbing his flat groin meditatively, a smile on his face. "It was amazing. We went up together, and I did it first. God, what a rush! The way the machine just whacked off my parts, and the way I could feel it all, the whole thing, even still feel my junk after it was cut off, right up until the nerves were severed." "And then watching it do Tom. My God, if I'd still had my cock at that point, my erection would have swelled up so big it probably would have popped like a water balloon. Ahem, pardon my french, ladies. But it was just incredibly hot." "I KNOW," said Robin in her new feminine voice. She giggled. "It's strange to say it, but I think the greatest sexual thrill of my life as a man was getting my penis cut off." *** The next day Jackie rode up to Margaret's level of the tower to have her new vagina installed. Gwendoline went with her, and wound up handling most of the operation as Margaret was busy with other parts of projects. Of course, there was more than just a vagina in the fluid filled tank that the autoclav suspended over Jackie as it began the operation. She watch curiously as the machine opened up her abdomen and lowered in an odd branching tube shaped organ, like a large letter Y with the ends curled over. There was a bulge at the end of each of the two arms which she knew must be her new ovaries. It took the autoclav about ten minutes to finish hooking up the nerves and blood vessels and close Jackie up. Gwendoline had numbed her groin and lower abdomen, as she said the initial sensations during the process could be a little too intense. When it was over Gwendoline helped her to sit up and swing her legs off the edge of the table. "How do you feel?" Jackie looked down at her groin, marveling at the sight of her labia, the folds of flesh slightly parted with her spread legs to reveal the entrance to her new pussy. At the top, the tiny nub of her clitoris poked out. "Pretty good. I think I'm getting some feeling back." She reached down and nudged her clit with her forefinger, quickly jerked her hand back at the unfamiliar touch. "Yes, I definitely have feeling." "Well, take it easy," said Gwendoline. She handed Jackie a pair of panties. "When you feel ready, put these on and try walking around a bit. Jack reached down and slid the panties up her smooth legs. As she pulled them up over her hips, the material between her legs formed into the classic outline of the feminine cleft. It was a sight she had seen on many other women, but never herself. "Good. Now see if you can walk okay." Jackie stood up and slowly walked across the room. After two weeks with no genitals, it was amazingly different to finally be female down there. Each time she took a step, she could feel her labia lips rub together in the void between her legs, gently stimulating her clitoris. She could also feel dampness forming in her crotch as she walked back over to Gwendoline, and a swelling, softening sensation up inside her abdomen which must be her vagina dilating. She realized that her breathing had become short and fast, and that she was hot all over, flushed. She looked at Gwendoline, and felt a strange weakness growing in her knees. There were tears in Gwendoline's eyes, and suddenly she threw her arms around Jackie and kissed her, hard, making a thrill of electric excitement radiate out from Jackie's groin. "My beautiful, beautiful girl," Gwendoline said, when she broke the kiss. "I love your new body so much." "This is so - My God, how do you stand it?" gasped Jackie. "If this is what it feels like to be a woman, how do you ever do anything besides have sex?" "You get used to it after a while, although what you're feeling never goes away totally. It's always there, just under the surface, ready to explode into passion when you see someone really attractive. Like you." And she kissed Jackie again. "I want you," said Jackie. "I want to feel you in me, your tongue and your fingers, I want to be part of you. I'm so hot for you." She ground her panty covered crotch against Gwendoline's, reveling in the sensations it sent through her body. "Me too," said Gwendoline. "But there's a man scheduled to use this autoclav in a few minutes, and we probably shouldn't be in here having wild lesbian sex while the 'doc cuts off his cock. After all, we wouldn't want to get the poor fellow TOO excited."