Wild WoodsChapter 3 Children
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Apollo's Children free porn video
After the release of the virus and the offensive against the enemy in the
Jovian System, the nation and the world struggled to adjust to what happened
and what was still happening. It became apparent that the transformations
were slowing down. Dr. Lukas Forrester at Project Rampart theorized that the
atmospheric nanites were either going dormant or they needed time to
reproduce themselves.
There were still hundreds of thousands of men and boys with RH negative blood
that were untransformed, and when their blood was tested, it was found they
were free of the nanites. In some cases the nanites were there, but simply
had not acted. Those men would ask with some trepidation, "Doc. What does
this mean am I going to turn into a woman tomorrow, next week, next month,
next year?"
"Mr. Halloran we just don't know. It's almost as if the agents in your
bloodstream are waiting for something."
The consensus among Dr. Forrester and his peers in the medical and scientific
community was that some men with the required blood factor would change and
some would not, and that the time and place of the change was completely
unpredictable.
What WAS very apparent was that the nanites were NOT transferrable from one
person to another. The transformation phenomenon was NOT a communicable
disease as such. Despite that some transformees were STILL murdered in
various nasty ways out of fear of 'contagion'
In some cases, the true contagion in those regions proved to be fear, hate,
and unreasoning suspicion.
Captain Michelle Strelnikova was eight months pregnant when she learned of
the promotion to Rear admiral lower half. Her reaction was surprisingly
subdued, "It figures the black-shoe bastards wait till I'm the size of a
CARRIER to promote me to Admiral!"
Colonel Strelnikov was gently supportive and tried to convince Michelle that
he still loved her. Michelle was acerbic in her response, "Of course you do,
Flyboy, now I'm big enough to see from ORBIT! Therefore, I am an easy target.
Flyboys love those."
This was said as Michelle levered herself into the passenger side of the 1976
Plymouth Vista Cruiser on the morning of a big briefing for the President on
the current status of the war, the transformees and the general state of
affairs.
"The worst part is, I can't even get laid anymore! I haven't been dicked in
two months TWO MONTHS!"
As the two star warriors drove to Hanger Alpha 01 Michelle got a pleasant
smile on her face and Schtopaugh asked, "Penny for your thoughts?"
"Oh, I was just thinking of how much fun it would be to bludgeon you to death
in your sleep."
"Ah, well nothing too alarming, then." Schtopaugh was used to such grim
threats and knew, or at least hoped they were in jest. It had been six
months since the battle of Jupiter and there had been no sign of activity
from the enemy In the stars. In that time the Three nations of the Triad pact
were not idle. A belt of drone mines mounted with nuclear charges now
protected the Earth-Moon system of space. The drones were controlled from the
enlarged and expanded Lunar Station Diana. Moon Base Artemis served as a
ground control. Absent enemy activity, a landing on Mars in 1978 was now on
the table.
Joanne Bradford was now in her second semester at college and seemed to spend
an awful lot of time with the Transformees support group on campus, or as
Michelle called them, "The New Mexico Ladies' literature, and lesbian
terrorist society."
The most obvious thing affecting society was that the future was happening.
The future that everyone thought would happen was HAPPENING! Moon bases, Mars
Missions, space stations, space battles against alien invaders, and
technology in all fields was zooming ahead on an exponential curve.
Admiral Strelnikova and Colonel Strelnikov made their way inside and through
the various security checks. Various female personnel were on the verge of
doting on Admiral Strelnikova as she made her way to her office. And marveled
at the level of paperwork required to run any large military endeavor.
The timing of the Pentagon's promoting her to Rear Admiral, lower half was
obvious. She was giving birth in thirty days, and they were nailing her to
the planet's surface with two pretty golden shoulder boards.
Michelle realized that she didn't have a huge problem with that. After all,
it wasn't as if she had NOT done her fair share of time in the shit. Two
tours in the skies over North Vietnam and four days on the ground escaping
and evading from Victor Charles and Nathanial Victor were more than enough,
not to mention she was now one of only a few hundred humans to serve in
combat against real live space aliens.
Schtopaugh was now a full Colonel in the Red Air Force. Two blue lines and
three gold stars. He was good naturedly kidding about his wife continuing to
outrank him. He liked to tell his friends, "You idiots know how marriage
works, the wife outranks the husband anyway, and this just makes it
official."
The U.S. Russia, Great Britain, China and the other Allies were putting their
heads together trying to develop real space superiority fighters, and the
space carriers to host these wings of attack areospacecraft. Three Orion
ships with a handful of suicide ships were fine once, but the combined old
boys' clubs of four nation's militaries wanted more. Everyone knew how lucky
the Earth was that they were able to meet their enemy in space and the harsh
critics of space spending In the Congress such as Senator William Proxmire
had been effectively silenced by the attack and mankind's response to it. The
old boys were especially gung ho given that it wasn't just Earth under
threat, but the very idea of American Manhood that was in danger.
The population percentage of changed men to women was in the solid five to
ten percent. It seemed some men didn't change, even with the Nanites in their
blood. This was a minority within a minority however.
The changed men came from all walks of life, business, law enforcement the
Military, the various churches, and even the professional sports. This was
changing American society to the extent that many transformed men joined the
nascent women's liberation movement when their former fellows in gender tried
to force them to adopt traditional passive female gender roles.
Some disabled veterans of the Vietnam Conflict would awake to find themselves
become young, healthy able bodied women. In all cases, the transformations
were witnessed and corroborated by V.A. officials and medical doctors.
The B.G.A.L. was now a reality and in the first stages of helping the victims
of this with psychological counseling occupational therapy and employment
relocation. There was also a thriving suicide hotline. The U.S. Government
very much Did NOT want the enemy getting credit for yet more casualties on
Earth via former men self terminating due to not adjusting to their new
bodies. Michelle shook her head at the enemy or rather, her mental image of
the enemy. How could they possibly think this was O,K,? What could possibly
be in their hermaphrodite dick-skinning pervert heads to make them think an
essential act of mass rape was anywhere close to acceptable?
President Gerald ford was campaigning for re-election against Former Georgia
governor James Carter. It was going to be a tight race. President Ford held
the nation together after the attack, and did his best to look after it's
victims, but many republicans unaffected by the virus objected most strongly
to Ford's expansion of the Federal Government and his tax increases on the
wealthiest ten percent of Americans. The wealthiest one percent of Americans
paid 90 percent of their income to the Federal Government in taxes. They
bellowed like branded calves, but Ford pointed to the frightful but clearly
justified expense of paying for the space war and taking care of the Virus
victims.
At the President's briefing later that morning, the man himself wondered at
Admiral Strelnikova's advanced pregnancy, and the fact that she was enduring
it and even looking forward to motherhood. The good Admiral was wearing a
tailored uniform cut and fitted as the U.S. Navy's first maternity uniform.
She was about to rise on her feet to give her piece of the strategic and
tactical breakdown when the President told her, "Oh, no, Admiral you needn't
get up, I'm sure Master Chief Chandler can push your chair to the head of the
table."
"Mr. President, I appreciate it, but I'm just pregnant, not paralyzed."
Admiral Strelnikova rose to her feet with only a little difficulty and
maneuvered her belly around to the front of the room. Once there, she
signaled for the lights to be dimmed as she activated the various slides for
her presentation.
"O.K., well from what we've gathered from questioning our Raianna prisoners
of war, the Raianna do NOT LIKE a fair fight and have only once In a blue
moon ever had one. Usually a fleet of the size we wiped out at Jupiter would
have been enough to either cow the natives or if not that, at least scour
them from the surface of their home planet.
The Raianna will take anywhere from six months to a year just to realize
something bad has happened. Once they do, they'll debate and dither and
fritter away their time trying to decide what to do about us. A defeat of a
Raianna fleet by a normally planet bound race is unprecedented, they won't
have any idea what to do and so they will, according to our prisoners, do
nothing. This won't last forever, but could give us until perhaps 1978 to
1980.
President Ford chimed in, "So, we have two to four years to build and
prepare."
"Yes, sir, that seems to be the case, and that time will pass faster than we
think so we had better enjoy our bicentennial year and get our butts in gear.
Now, we have crash research and development teams reverse engineering their
ships, their weapons, and their technology. With some of it, we were already
on the verge of discovering these principles ourselves, with other parts, we
would have gotten there in maybe a generation, but the underpinnings of the
sciences in question are already in various heads."
"Admiral, this is incredible, to think we were headed there, and in such a
short time, How is that possible?"
"Mr. President, Technological and scientific development is exponential. The
more it grows, the more it grows. It's like the penny equation. Take a penny.
Then double it. Then double that, and then double that. DO that once an hour
EVERY hour and in two weeks you have a million dollars and the I.R.S. all
OVER your case, sir."
"And that's something the Raianna don't grasp, I take it?" Admiral
Strelnikova nodded and answered, just so, Sir, We've tried to explain it to
them, but apparently after their nuclear war a thousand years ago, their
technological development was strictly and harshly regulated and regimented
by their reconstruction government, and that became their current government
which they simply call, "The Central Committee."
Colonel Strelnikov chuckled at that, then guffawed and had to visibly get
control of himself. Admiral Strelnikova told him, "Keep it together
Sweetheart". The Colonel took a hold of himself and put the kibosh on his
laughing fit.
"As I was saying, the Central Committee has been monitoring and in many cases
retarding their race's tech growth for a thousand years. The idea seems to be
they wait that analyze the crap out of any new innovation to make sure it's
not subjectively dangerous or uncontrollable according to their rather skewed
definition. In short sir, what took them a thousand years to develop, we
could probably swing in less than a century."
Dr. Lukas Forrester confirmed that as he gave a more detailed breakdown to
the nation's chief executive. Our technology as a species was showing great
promise in the Greek and Roman periods of dominance. It plateau during the
Imperium period and dropped like a stone in the west during the Dark Ages.
The Asian and Arabians continued to advance and when the renaissance occurred
that gave us the jump-start we needed. Gunpowder, literacy, art, science, and
then we were off.
Right now we are at top speed and accelerating, if we keep it up we'll
surpass the Raianna in perhaps fifty years." President Ford blinked and shook
his head. He told Dr. Forrester, "Dr. I had no idea, I just thought that
since the Raianna were more advanced that we really had no chance against
them." Dr. Forrester nodded and answered, "Well, Mr. President, that is the
common cultural conceit fostered by an endless parade of cultural self
loathing fueled by the past ten years of backlash from the Vietnam war. I
estimate that if we really get serious about it we can deploy space fighters
and space carriers as well as other types of support vessels by 1990 at the
very latest. In any case we should be more than able to keep the war in space
where it belongs."
Dr. Felicia Gaines stood up at the Admiral's signal and told the President,
"Their weapons and secondary tech is so close to us that I am amazed we
haven't developed some of it already, micro-communicators, superfast open
architecture computer systems, man-portable energy weapons, the list goes on
and on. The point is this close developmental proximity is enabling us to
reverse engineer this technology very quickly. Perhaps we may have taken
thirty of forty years to get some of this, but now, we have it. That means we
can stand on the Raianna's shoulders and exceed them."
General Mason Ballard asked, "You all said back last year that you thought
their tech was biological, what about that?"
"Well, General some of it, is, but much of it turned out not to be. Their
medical tech for instance is light years ahead of us, but their weapons and
secondary support tech is mechanical, like ours. It turns out that biomachine
tech is actually much harder to manage than we or they first thought."
"And what about the virus, these Nanites?"
Dr. Forrester's shoulder's slumped. "Mr. President, those are,...frankly,
beyond us. We're lucky to have even figured out they exist at all. We know
they're there, but we have no idea how they work, or why they work, or how to
turn them off. For now, and for the foreseeable future, we just have to live
with it, and with the prospect of men on Earth transforming into women. Some
as adult, some as teens, some as children, it's completely unpredictable.
President Ford nodded sadly and told his present advisors. "I believe its
very important for us to nip any problems in the bud and take steps now. BGAL
is a step In the right direction, but there HAS to be more we can do."
Admiral Strelnikova told President Ford, "Sir, I think the best thing we can
do here is to make it plain that the gender of an American has no bearing on
the opportunities available to that American. We need to eliminate as many
gender and sexual biases as we can. If an American boy find himself
transformed into an American girl we NEDD to be able to tell her that she can
STILL become anything she wants, or at least darned near."
After another long day at Project Rampart, Michelle and Schtopaugh returned
home and Schtopaugh told Michelle, "You know, we never go anywhere, or do
anything. One of these weekends I would like to be able to take my wife out
to dinner and a film or something, like other couples do."
After undressing cleaning up and changing into a set of navy workout sweats
with the top stretched and exposing her distended tummy, Michelle told him,
"That's because I don't have any civvies that fit me anymore."
"And why can't you buy some civilian clothes that would fit you, Misha?"
"Because maternity clothes would make me look and feel completely asinine!"
Her husband shrugged and answered blandly, "I don't think they'de look so
bad."
Michelle bit back, "That's because YOU don't have to WEAR them, do you? Those
damned things are specifically designed to draw as much attention as possible
to the fat lady waddling around in their midst. I may not be a man anymore, I
may be the size of a damned Escort Carrier, but God Dammit, I am STILL an
officer In the United States navy and not a model for brightly colored circus
tents!"
Schtopaugh touched Michelle's arm gently and told her in a soft, kind voice,
"You are also a woman, and the mother-to-be of my children. I don't think you
would look at all foolish and neither will anyone else."
Michelle felt a burst of love and affection for her husband and decided that
if she could survive war, danger in space, and all the other travails in her
life, she could stand to wear striped and pattered Maternity dresses and
blouses. It wasn't as if she would have to wear them forever.
So it was that on the Friday afternoon after taking an early day from the
project, Michelle intercepted Joanne as she was coming in the door and told
her, "If you've got plans, cancel them you and me are going shopping. I need
maternity clothes and YOU need a wardrobe that doesn't look like you're
plotting a Military Junta at the Mayberry ladies auxiliary."
Joanne Bradford looked down at her boots, fatigue pants woman power T-shirt
and field blouse and asked, "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
"Oh, nothing, if you're plotting the overthrow of the nearest sewing circle,
but if you want to look like a grown woman in the year 1976, you look like
shit, Jo'." Joanne dropped her book bag on the couch and headed for the
kitchen, pulling an RC cola out of the fridge and opening it with a church
key. "So, what we're going to go shopping and act like a couple of giggling
morons on a girl's day?"
Michelle's voice was deadpan as she answered, "Not quite, smartass, we're
going to go and get some new clothes which we BOTH need and get our asses
organized so we can pass for normal in this country. There are a lot of guys
dealing with this and frankly we BOTH need to set an example."
Joanne thought about that. There WERE a lot more guys dealing with womanhood
nowadays. Some better than others. There HAD been suicides, and some guys
here and there did 'opt out', but it wasn't as bad as anyone feared. That
said, when the two of them reached the mall, they could easily see a small
cluster of sloppily dressed short-haired women that seemed all at sea in the
world of women's fashions.
For the most part, Michelle and Joanne acted as if they were doing a
necessary chore, or accomplishing a mission. Go to where the clothing in
question was stocked, look for the right sizes, and choose colors that were
not too silly or outlandish looking. Michelle had a slightly greater
advantage having been on previous feminine shopping trips, but Joanne was all
business. The other 'women' in the store, what there were of them were even
worse off. Choosing pants suits and jeans and masculine seeming blouses and
finding the plainest whitest sets of underthings they could get away with.
The natural born women watched with varying degrees of amusement as the three
or four 'fellows-turned ladies' floundered around picking and choosing
clothes that most reminded them of menswear. It did not take long before most
women took pity on the four (wo)men and took the time and effort to help them
pick clothes that would look nice, wear well and flatter them while still
looking fairily butch. Joanne took note of that, Natural born women had a
much higher grade of empathy and their attitude seemed to be one of, "Hell,
it's not like you boys asked for it and at the end of the day we're all girls
together."
Michelle caught herself leafing through the racks of maternity blouses and
dresses and realized she was quickly and expeditiously checking size tags,
examining them cor color and style and either discarding them as unsuitable,
or putting them on a stack to buy. She knew her sizes and whether or not they
would fit her and so did not even consider trying anything on. All the
(wo)men were doing that especially Joanne.
'Come in, get what you came for, buy it, and leave. Get it done and move on
to the next task.' It was simply how men shopped and worked or did anything.
It was why Michelle and Joanne left the one store they shopped after getting
everything they decided they needed in one shot. They bought the most
inexpensive clothes, that looked like they would wear the longest and be in
style the longest.
It was why the two first transformees finished in under two hours and headed
back home rather than spending the day at the mall.
Joanne bought pants and blouses and shoes and underthings that were close
enough to male styles as to be painfully obvious. She still cut her hair
short and took enourmous pains to look and dress as if she were stil la man.
She only wore dresses and hose and jewelry when compelled to do so. Michelle
wondered about her seeming adamant refusal to be a woman. It was as if
something was there, lurking, something dark and dangerous. And the worst
part, Joanne was busting her ass to pretend it wasn't there.
Whatever it was, it could get very, very bad.
Several more weeks passed in seeming busy normalcy for Admiral Strelnikova,
her husband, Joanne, the project, the Nation and the human race in general.
Michelle was sitting I nthe Lay-z-boy recliner Schtopaugh bought her three
months ago when she started getting big watching television. It was a
situation comedy that took place in the 1950's called "Happy days."
Michelle and Schtopaugh were sitting together with Joanne upstairs studying
when during a commercial for Alka seltzer, Michelle felt a twinge in her
public region , no not quite there, further up near her cervix and birth
canal. She was just about to blow it off when twenty minutes later it
happened again.
By the time of "Laverne and Shirley", they were ten minutes apart and regular
as clockwork. Michelle told Schtopaugh somewhat breathlessly, "Schtopaugh,
tell Jo' to get my shit and get the car ready."
In a vague sense of unreality, Schtopaugh blearily answered, "Are you sure?"
"STUFF, CAR, NOW!"
Schtopaugh answered quickly, "You're sure! As he hopped up, threw on his
jacket and shoes and led Michelle to the car in her sweats and shouted at Jo'
upstairs, "Iosef, get the old lady's shit, it's go time!"
Jo' bombed downstairs minutes later with Michelle's 'Preggo bag' in her mitts
and loaded it into the back of the station wagon. Then she got in the back as
Michelle and Schtopaugh climbed in and the Strelnikov show got on the road.
In the time it took the three people to throw on coats grab needed packages
and items and get in the car, Michelle's contractions were ten minutes apart.
By the time they reached the hospital the cervical contractions were five
minutes apart and Michelle was demanding, "I want drugs, lots and lots of
sweet, sweet, drugs, GIMMEE THE FUCKIN' DRUGS MAN! I got shot a couple of
times in Nam an' this is like WAY WORSE!""
The hospital staff asked if Michelle wanted Schtopaugh In the delivery room
and Michelle answered groaning in pain, "Hell no, fuck him let him smoke and
eat ptomaine sandwiches out the vending machine in the waiting room with the
other fuckin' dudes!"
When Joanne tried to go with him Michelle almost pleaded with her, No, no,
you stay, stay with me, you're one of the few people I know I actually don't
want to kill right now." Joanne was disturbed, but agreed and was gowned and
masked and gloved as the party moved into delivery room three in the
Obstetrics ward. By the time the doctor was there Michelle had been medicated
and was pushing at the doctor's direction to try to, essentially push an
object the size of a good sized pumpkin through an opening the size of a
lemon.
Despite the speed of the contractions, the birth took over seven hours.
As it turned out, said birth canal and vaginal opening was elastic and
pliable to allow, first, the head, and then the body of an infant human male
through and out. The surprise was the infant human female that followed the
boy.
In the midst of the pain and effort and hormones, Michelle remembered Michael
Partenza's WSO from his F-4 squadron. He died when their ship was shot down
and Michael never forgave himself for letting that happen. Michelle looked at
the boy and called him by the name of Benjamin Willard Strelnikov. The girl
was named after Michelle's mother, Doreen Francis Strelnikova. By the time
Michelle's body ejected the placenta she was ready to pass out from the drugs
and the effort.
Schtopaugh Strelnikov was informed of the birth of his two children and the
health, and unconsciousness of his wife, and was properly jubilant. He was
also expressing wonder that he was now a father. He decided that the People's
Hero, Colonel Schtopaugh Dumovich Strelnikov had to get his shit straight and
take care of his wife, son, and daughter. Schtopaugh agreed with his wife on
the names of the children. Where this was concerned, he was willing to grant
her anything. Given the virus, he was relieved to remember that his son and
daughter's blood type would be like his, AB positive. Ben would never need
fear sudden transformation into a woman. He could leave the dolls and toy
cook stoves to Doreen and concern himself with toy soldiers, and little tin
cars and Little League Baseball like the other boys.
Schtopaugh did not realize it, but Michelle Strelnikova would have her own
very definite and strong opinions about imposing traditional gender roles on
their fraternal twin children. Joanne for her part was scarred for life after
seeing the blood and pain and effluvia of an actual human live birth. Joe
Bradley had never seen his children born and now, the very idea of going
through that frightened Joanne on a deep and mortal level.
Joanne Bradford resolved that she was going to be the gayest dykeiest most
carpet-munching woman on Earth after seeing that horror show.
When the twins were cleaned up and issued their blankets and knit caps
Michelle was allowed to hold them and look at them. Michelle Gabrielle
Strelnikova was gobsmacked by the reality that these two tiny humans came out
of her. They were weak and innocent and would need to be taught and fed and
clothed and given EVERYTHING so that they could survive. Michelle was told
that she was healthy enough to feed them herself if she wanted to, and it
took her a moment to realize what that meant. Then she bared her breasts and
let each child take a nipple into their mouths. Ben and Doreen began pulling
at the nipples and taking milk from Michelle's breasts and she realized that
it was actually very pleasant to do this. She was feeding her children from
her own body, and it was literally the most natural thing in the world.
Michelle realized that she loved these two infants more than she loved anyone
or anything. It was with a start that Michelle realized that, if she had
never suffered transformation on the Moon, she would never have known this
wonderful feeling and never even been aware of what as a male he would have
been missing.
That reminded Michelle of the war, and the enemy and their callous blas?'
desire to change humanity to suit the Raianna's narrow views. If the Raianna
came back here to start more shit, Admiral Michelle Gabrielle Strelnikova had
something for them, and that was for certain. They weren't going to lay a
damned hand on her two little babies or her Husband or Joanne or anyone else
on Earth.
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