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REBIRTH ADVENT Chapter 1 I sat at the bar, alone, just enjoying the dim lighting, the cool air, and, most of all the quiet. It should be quiet; it was only 1o'clock in the afternoon, after all. I have always enjoyed this place because it was just a bar; in a world of specialty drinking houses, sports bars, strip bars, pick-up bars, you name it, it was pleasant and relaxing to find a place without pretention, without ambition, that just is what it is and is content with that. The fact that it was only a couple of blocks from my apartment also had a lot to do with my affection, I think. I am not a real drinker. When I go out, I can nurse a single beer for hours and have a great time. Whether I am watching the game (in whatever season it happens to be), shooting pool, playing darts, or just hanging out with the other patrons; I don't often feel the need to be lit to do any of it. So what am I doing in a bar at one in the afternoon, you ask? Simple, I am playing hooky. My name is Donald McCloud, Don to just about everyone who knows me. A good strong Scottish name, don't you think? Well, I look just the tiniest bit more Scottish than a French Poodle. At the age of 29, standing at 5'9, with a medium but well muscled build, glasses that I have had to wear since I was in grade school, and a thick mane of coal black hair that seems to always need cutting (at least according to my mother) as I wear it to the bottom of my collar; one would think that Dolf Lungren looks more Scottish than I do. Actually, James McCloud is mom's second husband (she left my father when I was about two). She met James (my dad) and eventually married him some years later (I think I was 7or 8 at the time) and he adopted me as part of the wedding ceremony; which I really thought was cool at the time. Now, years later, it doesn't really matter. He has always been Dad to me; he has been there to teach me how to throw a football, picked me up after a catastrophic wipeout on my first skateboard, stood up for and with me, and, come down on me, when needed; sometimes as a result of the same incident. All in all, a great guy and an incredible dad; and I think there should be a million more like him. Oh! Sorry, I was talking about playing hooky. Normally at this time of day, I am running around a lumber yard on a high lift. I work for a local company that makes pre-formed roof trusses and wall segments for the residential construction industry. I am one of two guys whose job it is to pull lumber and place it on the conveyors which take it to the saws; the first step in the manufacture process. Anyway, like I said, I would be at work at this time of day instead of watching the lunch crowd head back to whatever grind they do. Today, though, I had to take my mom in for some medical tests and they told her that she should make arrangements for someone to drive her home; as she probably wouldn't be up to doing it herself. What we thought was going to take most of the day to accomplish only took about three hours. So I have been done since 11 and decided that I really wasn't interested in going into work now. So instead, I came here to watch whatever was on the sports channel. I had originally come in with the idea of grabbing one of Sammy's world famous burgers then head out to run some errands and see if I could accomplish something useful. Being as I had the time, the more I could do today meant the less time I had to waste over the weekend. So, I figured that I could at least get groceries and maybe be able to pay a couple of bills today. The best laid plans, etc. I sat with my second, and last, beer; the remains of my Sammy burger lying on a plate pushed off to one side. I had gotten into a surprisingly good baseball game as part of the collegiate World Series. I had no idea who was playing but, like I said, it was a very good game. My enjoyment was interrupted by the siren call of my smoking addiction. So, breaking away from the action on the big screen behind the bar, I climbed off my seat to head out to the patio for a cigarette. As I stood to put on my jacket, I was somewhat surprised to see a tall, distinguished looking man sitting a couple of stools away from me. As I stood he turned with a slight smile, "Answering the call of nature, huh?" he asked as a friendly joke, indicating my half empty beer with a jerk of his chin. "No," I replied in kind. "She called earlier, but apparently the Marlboro Man has me on speed dial." I know it's old but I did think it was a pretty good comeback. So did he, apparently, as I got a kind of groaning chuckle in response. "Did you actually have to say it out loud?" he asked in a mock whine. "I have been trying to ignore him for the past half hour. Mind if I join you?" This made me actually laugh out loud. "Sure, be my guest. Call it my good deed for the day." I couldn't resist keeping it going. "If you don't answer the s.o.b., he sicks Joe Camel on you and your day really goes to hell." We went out the patio door and had a quick smoke as it was a rather brisk fall day. As we came back in to finish our drinks, Russ (he had introduced himself outside as Russell "Russ" Sebastian) suggested that we finish watching the game at a table because the backless barstools were irritating his back. So, we grabbed our drinks on the fly and made for a table. I was struck by the fact that the bar was empty but for us. True, I don't usually spend any time in here during the day but ole Sammy is like a garrulous uncle; always friendly and willing to talk about just about any subject. He is also very attentive to his customers and claims the way to keep a good business is treat your customers like they were your family, so his being absent seemed kind of odd. I finished off my beer before I made it to the table and turned around to see if I could see Sammy for a refill. Like magic, he came out from the back of the bar and grabbed another on his way over. He called to Russ to see if he would like a refill while he was there. Receiving a nod, he made Russ another round and asked me to deliver it. He also asked me to give a shout if anyone came in as he was in the process of straightening the stockroom. As we sat and got back into the game, we began to chat. We talked about work (mainly mine) and how I had managed to play hooky today. About our lives, and why I was living alone. I talked about my mom and dad; how close we are and how much I worry about them. While he talked about how he was supposed to have met a potential business associate here for lunch (it was halfway between their two offices) and how the person never showed. We had been going on for several minutes when out of the blue, and in the same conversational tone, Russ looked me straight in the eye and asked, "Don, have you ever sucked a man's dick?" I froze, completely stunned, my jaw hanging open. I quickly looked around like a guilty schoolboy. "Don't worry about the barkeep," he said easily. "He will remain completely oblivious until and unless you call his name. I have already seen to that." I had no idea what he was talking about but that seemed to be the least of my concerns. "No," I said meekly, suddenly ashamed of my lack. Wait just a danged second! I have spent an entire lifetime being comfortably, willingly, eagerly and, most importantly, definitively straight. Why was I all of the sudden ashamed for never having done something that I never wanted to do in the first place. I looked at Russ, intending to ask him just who the hell he was, when he spoke again. "Would you like to?" he went on smoothly, completely overlooking the dumbfounded, deer in the headlights look on my face. "Yes," I said quietly; feeling utterly helpless as I looked into his eyes. I fidgeted as I felt my dick harden, feeling uncomfortably confined in my jeans. "Good," he said, standing and directing me with his waved hand toward the back of the bar. "Let's go in the back. That way we won't be disturbed, nor will we be the subject of embarrassing talk." He said in the same conversational tones as he walked toward the back hallway; never bothering to check if I were following him or not. Suddenly, I am kneeling on the floor of the men's room (Gawd! How clich? can we get here?), looking up at a tall, professional looking gentleman, with thick well kempt salt and pepper hair, fashionable wire framed glasses, and a well cut and fitted business suit. Oh yeah, he also has a rock hard 11 inch cock sticking straight out from his fly. It was incredible; it must have been every bit of 2 inches across. It was by far the biggest dick I had ever personally seen. It was made even more massive by close proximity. I felt like a puppy waiting for a treat. As he stepped near me, my hand reached out of its own volition and grasped the warm velvety steel of his erection. Helplessly, I leaned forward to take his hard dick into my mouth. "I am sorry for this," Russ said softly, his voice sounding with sincere remorse. Huh, what does that mean? I thought vaguely, as I reached out to flick my tongue against the tip of his magnificent dickhead. I was rewarded by a light gasp of surprised pleasure from Russ as his huge cock twitched in my hand. I did that a couple more times and got more rewarding twitches before I bathed his entire glans with the flat of my wet tongue. My own dick was beginning to feel like it was being cut in half by the inseam of my jeans. So, with my free hand, I quickly reached down and undid my zipper, freeing my hungry, aching, and rock hard cock. Once it was free, I was able to ignore it, and instead concentrate my attention on the masterful creature before me. My hand came up to cup and fondles his large, full balls while I tried to insert my stiffened tongue into his dick. Out of nowhere, I was gripped by an irresistible impatience. I stopped licking and teasing his cock, opened my mouth as wide as I could, and drove my head down onto the hard smooth shaft of his dick. I choked lightly as the head of his dick hit the back of my throat but a slight adjustment, and a quick swallow, enabled that wonderful torpedo to continue its merry way down my throat. Russ rumbled a low growl deep in his throat as he reached out with both hands to roughly grab my hair. I felt the heavy pain in my scalp at the same instant I felt his large ballsac thud against my chin and his dark curly pubic hair tickle my nostrils. He held me there for a couple of seconds, my face well and truly impaled on his cock. I couldn't breathe! I tried to use my tongue on the underside of his shaft but my tongue was pinned down. I tried to growl deep in my throat but his massive cock had my larynx so distended it couldn't vibrate. Just as I was starting to panic, I felt him slowly, painfully slowly, begin to pull his dick out of my throat. He slid himself out only far enough for me to be able to draw a breath through my nose before slamming the length of his cock back down my throat. Again and again, he pulled back; only to slam his way deep into my tortured throat once more. For the next several minutes my world consisted only of his driving member and my desire to have more. And then, suddenly, time and my world stopped. I was taken by surprise by the first jet of thick, viscous, hot, and tangy cum as it erupted out of Russ's cock. I quickly swallowed the salty and absolutely delicious fluid just as the second jet erupted. I exploded; my thoughts, my dreams and aspirations, my concerns and every cell in my body turned to liquid and exploded out through the end of my dick. I have never in my life felt an orgasm of that intensity; it came, and took over, from my whole body at once. As Russ came to the end of his own orgasm, he slowly and gently eased his softening dick out of my stretched and tortured throat and mouth. I was completely limp as he slowly lowered me to the floor; where I continued to quiver and twitch in the aftermath of my orgasm. He turned away toward the sink to clean himself off with a wetted handkerchief before returning to do the same for me. As he wiped my face, I wanted to protest; I had been unable to swallow all of his cum and it had spilled over on my cheeks and chin. He was wiping it off and I did not want to let any get away from me. That done, he then turned his attention to cleaning up the mess I had made of myself with my dick. After a couple of minutes, I started to mumble and sit up. "Shhh, easy Don, give yourself a couple of minutes to get yourself together." Russ said kindly as he gently held me down. Several minutes later we were back in the main barroom. Sammy was behind the bar waiting on a couple of guys in the local phone company uniforms. "What'll it be gents, another round?" He said in his usual outgoing friendly manner; giving absolutely no sign that anything was amiss. I on the other hand was absolutely positive that the entire world could see exactly what we had just been up to all over my face. My chin and the area between my mouth and nose felt raw from Russ's pubic hair. My lips and throat were acutely sore from the extensive stretching and pounding they just endured. It took me several tries to get a response to Sammy's inquiry out. And I could still smell the enticing aroma of his manhood and taste the rich creaminess of his sperm. I sat there nursing my beer for a few minutes (after what I had done to my throat, it hurt to swallow) until the two phone guys decided to go in the back room and shoot pool. Then I turned to Russ who returned my gaze serenely. "I...um... I mean, what...I have never done anything like that before and all of the sudden I'm an expert... what the hell was all of that, anyway... and why, after convincing me to do it in the first place, were you apologizing to me...how did I become such an instant expert...and why the hell am I sitting here so calmly?.." I burst out, a thousand different questions and comments trying to escape all at once. Russ just sat there and let me wind down. He knew that I had a lot of questions that I couldn't possibly have answers for. "There, are you okay now?" he asked me gently as I began to wind down. When I nodded in the affirmative he continued. "Look, Don, I know you probably have a whole bunch of questions and I am more than willing to answer all that I can. But I can't answer them if you are asking them all at once. And I want you to think about this, are you sure you want to get into the type of conversation this is going to lead to here in this bar?" Chapter 2 I was about to say that I didn't care where we hashed this out when the little bell over the front door chimed as three more patrons entered. The after work crowd was beginning to arrive. Discretion got the better part of me and I quickly agreed that we should find a quieter place for this discussion. After getting into his car (a damn nice Audi from what I could tell) and driving for a few minutes, we ended up sipping fountain drinks from a convenience store on a park bench. I had spent the intervening time trying to force my thoughts to go all in the same direction. "Okay, I know what happened back at the bar," I said after a few seconds on the bench. "I have to say that it was probably the single most incredible experience I have ever had. Having said that, I have one, no, make that two questions, first off." He looked at me and waited politely. "Question one; I have always believed myself to be absolutely straight. Yet, when you asked me if I had ever done that to a guy before (I couldn't bring myself to say 'sucked him off'), I felt ashamed to admit that I hadn't. The question is; why is that? Question two," I went on without pausing for the first answer. "Why the hell am I so calm about this whole thing? I mean, I had thought that anybody who had propositioned me like that would have gotten my boot up his ass (I was wearing my tennis shoes but you get the point), and I, not only, went with you willingly but I am able to calmly sit here after the fact and discuss the whole thing. I think I should be on the verge of coming unglued in disgust and feeling very ashamed of myself right about now; but I am not feeling any of those things." I let myself taper off, sipped my drink and fished out a cigarette while I waited for his answers. "The answer to both of your questions is me," he replied in a polite matter of fact tone; almost like a school teacher. "A long time ago, I realized that my body gives off pheromones that seem to have a deep hypnotic effect on other people. It didn't take long for me to learn to add simple sub vocalization to that to create the effects I desired." He stopped to fish for a cigarette of his own, lit it, and took a drag before continuing. "I was able to make the suggestions even stronger, beforehand, when I heard the bartender mention your name. With that, I was able to tailor my sub vocal commands directly to your subconscious." He paused as if actively considering something. Finally, he seemed to make up his mind. "Don, I want you to understand that what happened this afternoon is more than it seems." He spoke in conversational tones but his voice seemed to hold an underlying urgency; that definitely caught my attention. "Despite what you may believe, there was more to this afternoon than some perverted old gay seducing a straight guy for the first time. No, I really was there to meet a client originally. That client was a cross dresser who couldn't pass and couldn't afford the costs of transitioning. Therefore, he had agreed to let me feed on him in exchange for being transformed. For which price he was willing to commit him/herself to five years of servitude." "Wait! You mean to say that you are some kind of Succu', no wait that's the female, I mean Incubus or something? Like the mythological demon who comes at night to feed on people's life-force? How the hell am I supposed to believe that one?" I couldn't help breaking in incredulously. He had just stepped over my ability to suspend disbelief. "Yes! Exactly, an Incubus" he beamed like a school teacher receiving a correct answer from a favored student. "Relax, Don, there is nothing in any way demonic about all of this, contrary to popular myth. In my case, it was a simple virus; a very, very old virus, to say the least, but a virus nonetheless. I am still human, sort of at least. Anyway, this is something I am able to do, and have done in the past, but I don't do very often; primarily because it takes a lot of energy and preparation from me. Part of that preparation is what would be an equivalent to fasting. You see, in order to affect the requested transformation, I would be required to consume every last bit of my 'victim's' masculine energy. Therefore, I have to fast myself near to the point of starvation to make sure I can draw in and contain every last measure of that energy. Normally I would feed every 14 days, on the night of the new moon and then again on the night of the full moon. When I am preparing for a transformation, I arrange it so that I don't feed for thirty days beforehand. The problem is, one of the side effects of that virus I mentioned is that if its host does not supply it with adequate energy, it starts to feed on the host himself. Had I not found another food source, my body would have started to feed on itself and I would have been in a very bad way; it could have led to my death. I will gladly get more into the nuts and bolts of all of this later when we have more time; but, for now, we are a little pressed so I need to finish. Do you remember the orgasm you had in the men's room?" my eyes glazed and a delicious shiver ran up the length of my spine as the depth, intensity, and mind numbing ecstasy of that orgasm replayed itself in my mind. I could feel my face redden as Russ was watching me. Damn! It has been over two hours and the experience can still do that to me! "I see you do," Russ chuckled wickedly. "For your information, the best we can figure is the experience you had is as close an approximation to the female orgasm as the male body is able to achieve. That orgasm was only possible because the instant you ejaculated, I was able to touch and draw on your masculine energies; all of them, every last little bit of your masculine energies are now depleted, never to return. Also, when I came in your mouth, I infected you with the virus I mentioned earlier. This is why we don..." "WAIT JUST A SECOND!" I exploded, loudly. Let Me Get This Straight, You Not Only Stole My Masculinity BUT You Gave Me Some Disease In The Process! IS THAT WHAT YOU ARE TELLING ME?" I spoke in a menacing growl through gritted teeth; jumping to my feet to face the man who just a couple of hours before was my first male 'lover' and had just told me that single act may have killed me. The final sentence coming in a screeching crescendo that probably tripped car alarms for two blocks in every direction, and scared small children and little old ladies for another two blocks. Suddenly, wave after wave of calm and serenity began to wash over me. Damn this man and that hypno-whatever he does! I threw myself back down on the bench in a huff but I was only able to hold out for a couple of minutes before relaxing and turning back toward Russ, waiting for him to go on. "As I was saying, this is why we don't have a lot of time," he continued calmly as if I had not just come completely unglued. "You have been infected, quite unintentionally I assure you. It will take about four hours after initial infection for the virus to permeate your body and systems; give or take an hour, to account for variations in metabolism. Within eight hours, again allowing for metabolic differences, you will become symptomatic. Within twenty-four, you will enter into coma, which should last about three days, and when you awaken, you will be female. There is obviously more to it but, for now, those are the basics. Please understand that, due to the failure of my client to meet me, you were the only one available when the need to feed became something I could no longer safely ignore; my taking you was completely unplanned. Had this been something that had been planned, we would have been prepared for it; you would have been told all of this before agreeing to go along with it, we would have arrangements in place to provide for identification and to deal with your personal effects, etc. and, you would obviously have had not only a say in the proceedings but would have had the time to ask intelligent questions and make informed decisions. For that lack and oversight, I am truly sorry." "It just goes to show my life sucks, apparently in more ways than one," I said quietly, my sense of the ridiculous getting the better of me. "I should have stayed in bed this morning." I added grinning at Russ. "What do you mean," Russ asked quietly, his voice tinged with concern. "Let's see, while playing hooky from work, I stop in my favorite bar to grab a bite to eat," I started ticking points off on my fingers as I glibly summed up my day. "I have a really good baseball game interrupted by some superhuman, semi-demonic character who brainwashes me into allowing him to face fuck me into submissive oblivion with an incredible super-sized cock and causes me to have an earth-shattering female orgasm, which is a really neat trick for a guy I might add. And then, to top it all off, this very same character calmly informs me that in less than a week, I will be in a position to have a lot more dicks thrust in my face." I finished in staccato tones as I fought to control my laughter until I had finished talking. Russ looked at me startled before he also started to laugh out loud. We continued this way for several minutes before I was able to finally get control of myself. "So...so, so what happens now?" I asked lightly, stuttering as I fought to haul in the reins of my laughter. Russ held up one hand, forestalling a response, as he also struggled to regain his composure. "We can get to that in a minute," he finally said, having won the battle. "The first thing that you need to consider is the practicalities. Like, for example, where are you going to be living in a week? Is your landlord going to have issues with you disappearing and a woman suddenly living there? Said woman will have no job, no identification, and, most importantly, no ideas of how to behave and interact like a woman. We can work out everything else after we figu..." "OH FUCK!!" I exclaimed, smacking my forehead and causing Russ to start. "My parents! What do I say to them?" "Okay, settle down," Russ replied, laying a friendly hand on my shoulder. At the touch of his hand, I settled back onto the bench, turned to him and waited expectantly. "The first thing you have to do is NOT jump up and hit the ground running in forty different directions at once. Getting excited is not going to help here. Why don't I take you home with me; you would be perfectly safe. Then we can see about dealing with some of those practical issues. I can arrange for you to meet with a lawyer friend of mine and at least get you some I.D. and such. Does that sound okay to you, Don?" As I saw it, there was not a lot of choice here. If I turned down his offer, I would be out on the street by the beginning of next week, with no I.D., no job and no clue. I was worried about how my folks were going to take this. And, most importantly, I still had several dozen questions looking for answers. I nodded almost eagerly, my face carrying the dazed look of shock from the turn this conversation had taken. I was beginning to feel frightened as I had visions of this park bench becoming my home. With a single nod of agreement, Russ stood and began to lead me to his car. As we walked across the thick grass, Russ stopped and pulled out his cell phone. When he hit a button and held it to his ear, I continued walking for a few more steps; giving the man a little privacy to make his call. "Hi Barbie, listen I have a bit of a problem, dear. Could you meet me at...?" That was all I heard before distance reduced his voice to incoherent mumbling. I was just meandering, I couldn't stand still, as, for the first time, I began to ruminate over what was to be my impending fate. Russ had said that I would be female before the week is out. That was what was getting to me so badly. 'How? How is that even possible? It sounds so fantastic; like something one would find in a late night b-rated horror flick. Shit like that just doesn't happen in the real world. Okay, granted, he somehow got me to give him head, and, in the process, somehow, I became an instant expert in the art of the blow job. And let's not forget that truly awe inspiring orgasm, which Russ tells me, was very close to what females experience.' I could feel the smile trying to form on my lips at the memory of that orgasm. 'But how was I to be changed? And, for that matter, what will I look like when the change is complete?' That thought stopped me cold and caused me to shiver like I had an icicle sliding down my spine. It caused me to realize that, for all my questions, all my fears and concerns, I had already accepted this impending transformation as a foregone conclusion. It was like I not only knew it was going to happen, but, I felt it as well. I have never thought of myself as a woman, never been interested in, or curious about, feminine things, nor have I ever wanted to wear women's clothes (okay, except for that one time in my freshman year in high school; when evil companions convinced me that it would be a great home-coming prank to get cheerleader outfits and really gaudy wigs and makeup and join the cheerleaders at the home-coming game. We looked ridiculous, had no idea how to do the routines, and were about as graceful as a cow on ice, BUT, we were a hit). So how come I am so willing to accept this 'magical' mystery transformation so readily? "There, that should take care the more mundane matters," Russ suddenly said cheerily while laying a companionable hand on my shoulder. I had been so deep in thought I never heard him approach. I had my arms crossed in front of my chest, my head down, and my mouth pursed as I had been nibbling on the inside of my cheek. As Russ noticed my stance, his humor quickly changed to concern, "Are you alright, Don?" He asked gently. "You look like you are in pain." "Not really, Russ, I'm fine." I wanted to reassure him. "I just got to thinking about all that has happened, however unbelievable it is, and discovered to my surprise that I willingly accept the whole thing." I then went on to explain the directions of my thoughts and the conclusions I had come too. We continued toward the car as I spoke. As I approached Russ's car, I knew I needed to know more about this virus; the explanation Russ gave me earlier was just a bit vague. Chapter 3 I waited until we were headed out of the park to ask him to explain. I told him that I wanted to know everything, where it came from, how he caught it, and most importantly what it did. He didn't even hesitate; he just told me what I wanted to know. Why not? After all, everything he said would be confirmed within the next few days anyway. Russ started out by telling me that he had seen the bug for the first time in 1939. He had been, at the time, a Forensic Biologist at a university in Maryland; and was working on a study of the Black Plague commissioned by the War Department. He went off on a bit of a tangent to explain that this was just prior to Hitler's invasion of Poland. Nobody really knew that the war was coming; nor how really bad it would get. True, the politicians were concerned about the way things were shaping up in Europe, but there was no urgency. Well, no urgency with the possible exception of the War Department. The work he was doing at their request was by the way of options and contingency planning. The questions he was commissioned to answer were: could this plague be used as a weapon, and how effective would such a weapon be; could any outbreak resulting the use of this weapon be contained and managed using modern medicine and medical procedures; and finally, if the answers to the previous two questions were positive, could such a weapon be manufactured? At this time, he had spent close to two years doing research into the outbreaks of the Middle Ages; studying its origins, how it spread, its effects on the body, treatment procedures, fatality and survivability rates, and the like. I was flabbergasted. I couldn't believe he was telling me that the United States would have willingly considered something so monstrous as to drop the Plague on somebody. I know, from history, that the Nazis' were very bad news but... Holy Shit! Russ told me to relax and breathe before explaining that this kind of thing is pretty common, in just about every country. The people, who are responsible for fighting our wars, really don't want to get into a war in the first place. They know what war means in terms of human and economic costs. So, they constantly look for ways and means to lower those costs; to win a war, any war, as cheaply as possible. "The thing you have to remember, Don," Russ said, sounding like a college professor. "Is a war planner always has two ideals in mind when planning a campaign. The first is: to win a war as quickly as possible for their side, with the lowest cost in lives and materials as they can achieve. And the second is: to do so in such a way as to eliminate the enemy's drive and/or ability to try again." I turned away to look out the car window while I digested what he had just told me. I saw that we were driving down the freeway, passing one of the industrial districts that lay on the outer edges of the city. I found myself a bit startled by this as I had been so involved with our discussion I never even noticed when we go on the freeway. After a couple of seconds, I turned back to Russ. "Okay, I think I can see the reasoning here but..." I started to say when I was brought up short by a disturbing thought. "Wait! You did say 1939 didn't you? But its 2011; that's like seventy some years! And you said you were a biologist, not a biology student; which means that, even if you were some kind of prodigy, you would have to be, at minimum, my age to be working in that field as a certified doctor." This is something I knew a little bit about; my dad is a Podiatrist at the Community Hospital. "That would make you, at very least, somewhere in your ninety's. And I had you pegged for something like your early fifties. How is that... Just how old are you?" I demanded, emphatically; my eyes widening in awe and, maybe, with the first twinges of fear. Russ just chuckled with genuine humor. "Very good, Don," He beamed, turning to return my gaze. I could see the pleased merriment in his eyes. "You caught that did you? Don't worry; I'm getting to that part. But you are almost right. In 1939, when I first saw the bug, I was a fully certified biologist, but I wasn't a prodigy; at the time I was forty-six." I collapsed back into my seat, my mind threatening to overload. Without conscious thought or effort, my brain started to do the math as Russ continued on with his story. My God! If Russ was telling the truth, then the tall, active, healthy, distinguished looking gentleman sitting next to me was One Hundred and Eighteen years old! My mind couldn't handle this; the whole thing was beginning to get just a little too weird for me. I felt like I should be expecting a Rod Sterling-like voice over any second now. Then, like someone had flicked a switch in my head, all of my fears and concerns vanished; not faded but just stopped. I turned my attention back to Russ and caught him in mid sentence. I had to ask him to repeat himself, which caused him to turn to look at me from behind the wheel. He gave no indication that anything was out of the ordinary as he rewound his narrative to start again. He was telling me that he had reached the conclusion that a Plague Weapon would be impractical, for any number of reasons, and possibly as dangerous for us as it would be on an enemy. It then took him over two weeks to write up his findings and conclusions. It was during that period that he received a summons from the Dean of the Medical Sciences School (technically Russ's supervisor) to a meeting in the Dean's office. When he got there, Russ was introduced to a man by the name of Dr. William Ashton. Dr. Ashton was a doctor of Archeology and had just returned from somewhere in the Middle East. He, in turn, explained that he had returned from what, so far, was proving to be a very successful dig of a Mesopotamian village; but it had also left him with a kind of a mystery. In one of the buildings they had uncovered, they found a bunch of Amber crystals. This, in and of itself, was not a real big deal; except that in ancient times, amber was considered to be quite valuable. So, for anyone to have as much as they had found, that person would either have to be a dealer of the stuff or quite wealthy. No, the mystery they had was the fact that one of the crystals seemed to contain a liquid of some type sealed in a hollow center. This was discovered only after the crystals had been returned to the lab, along with several other 'finds', for further study. Neither Dr. Ashton, nor any of his research staff, had any idea what the liquid was; or, for that matter, how it could have been sealed in the crystal in the first place. He and his staff wisely decided they needed help figuring this one out and turned to the Dean for that help. The Dean, after hearing Dr. Ashton out, asked Russ examine Dr. Ashton's discovery and find out just what it was that they had and why it was so important that someone had gone through the trouble to seal it in amber. "The thing to keep in mind, Don, is that Amber is actually fossilized tree sap." Russ had told me, "And it is not common, and, therefore, quite expensive in the Middle East; mainly there are very few sap trees in the region. This made whatever was in that crystal potentially very valuable or very dangerous. With this in mind, I won't bore you with the minute details; I decided to set up a full research project, as opposed to a quick and dirty examination of the liquid. I intended to take full precautions and include not only my lab people, but Dr. Ashton's research staff as well. We really didn't know what we were letting ourselves in for, in terms of research, but what we found was truly amazing, and frightening." He went on to explain how the village was completely destroyed, literally burned to the ground between 7000 and 9000 years ago. This was determined, first, by Archeological evidence of the original sight. Soon other experts were brought in and the research expanded, as more data and facts about the original village were uncovered. They had made tremendous progress in recreating the village and life but were no closer to figuring out the mysterious liquid. "Hell, it took us nearly six months to figure out a way to safely get the stuff out of its encasement." Russ said in disgust at the memory. Then, in the summer of 1942, about the time when the U.S. was invading the Japanese held island of Guadalcanal, they experienced their first breakthrough. It had been decided, in the complete absence of any progress with a purely laboratory study, to inject a small amount of the liquid into a laboratory rodent. The results were absolutely amazing: within twelve hours of being injected, the rodent had changed gender. Unfortunately, it was only a couple of hours after that the animal had turned completely vicious. It attacked and killed everything else in its cage and wouldn't let anyone near it. Within forty-eight hours it was dead. It didn't just drop dead, but it was more like the threads of life that held it together were becoming frayed and unraveled. Once it started, it was only a matter of a few minutes for the creature to go from a vicious, crazed lab rodent to a putrid, unidentifiable lump of bits and goo. The only good news to come out of the episode was they confirmed that the original liquid was, in fact, some kind of virus; and that virus, once injected into a host, not only replicated true but it would survive the demise of the host for some time. They finally had a way to replicate the liquid. Chapter 4 More years, more experiments, and suddenly its 1945; the war in Europe is over and the man on the radio is covering the surrender of Japan. There are people celebrating in the streets, in office buildings, and even in the labs. Although, there isn't much of that; as they are beginning to enter into a critical phase. Through the past few years and thousands of experiments, the research staff believes they have a virus that will successfully change a human male to female. They are not using the original viral sample because of the fact there is so little of it to begin with. Rather, they have used the replicated viruses from the numerous failed lab experiments. They believed that they had figured out how to cancel out the negative factors that had been responsible for the catastrophic cellular failures in the past. They were ready to start experiments on primates. The other major cause for celebration in the labs was, with the war over, a lot of technology and skill sets would be making its way into the public sector. This would make the staff's experiments easier and more efficient. This line of work was just one of the many spin-offs from the original research. There were those who began to see the chance to cure the world's medical woes as a result of this work and others stemming from it. But that was not to say that 1945 was the year of 'sweetness and light'. The Allies had saved the world from Fascism but, in so doing, they set the stage for a period of Ultra-Conservatism that, in many ways, seemed worse that the Fascists we just conquered. The new "enemy of the state" was Communism and the menace of the Red Tide. And everyone was a suspect until they could prove differently. Politicians and public figures were not the only ones who were prone to this conservatism; churches and civic groups also jumped on the bandwagon. Anyone and anything that was different from what they believed was decried as a threat; a threat to the American way of life, or to the community, or public morals, and yes, even to the teachings of God himself. Suddenly, Russ stopped his discourse and cleared his throat, painfully. "Don, there is obviously more to this story but this next part is rather painful for me. So, if you don't mind, I will just gloss over the big picture and save the detail for another time." He looked at me and I could see a tear in his eye. "Besides, we are almost to my place." Surprised, I turned to look out the window to see that we had left the freeway and were travelling down a winding country lane. I had not even noticed any of this; I had been too busy listening to Russ's narrative. Whatever else may happen to me this week, whatever I may become, whatever Russ is, one thing is for sure: the man is an incredible speaker and a fantastic story teller. I turned back to Russ and quickly nodded my agreement. He began to tell me how he wasn't directly involved with the spin-off research during this time. He was still focused on cracking the mystery of the original virus sample (as it had come to be known). He was sure that he was getting close to a real answer. Then, he jumped forward again, to September 1947; the day he became infected. There had been a lot of changes in the lab; new equipment, new security and containment facilities (mainly due to additional commissioned research projects), but most importantly, new faces. Some of his original staff was still there but others had graduated and moved on to other things; to be replaced by new student researchers. Unfortunately for him, one of the things that hadn't really changed was laboratory access. One night in September, he had been working late on the original sample and was getting ready to put things away and head home. He suddenly heard a commotion outside the lab and, surprisingly, a familiar voice... When his wife burst through the door with two men carrying guns, he had no idea what to do or even think. Her face had been so twisted with demented rage that he almost didn't recognize her; but he did recognize one of the men with her: he was a doctor at the hospital where she worked as a Registered Nurse. At the top of her lungs, she accused him of condoning, even aiding in, the senseless destruction of innocent women and attempting to disrupt God's works by hoarding the cure for these ailments and wasting it on mice. As she continued to rant, with occasional input from the doctor, he realized that she had fallen victim to Religious Conservatism. She and her cohorts had decided that would be rapists committed their atrocities out of jealousy and anger; they were angry that they weren't women, jealous of 'real' women, and, therefore, felt that 'real' women deserved and needed to be punished for being something they themselves couldn't ever aspire too. They also believed that all homosexuals were, in fact, misplaced women. Otherwise why else would they feel the need to have relations with men? Misplaced or not, their actions, and even their very existence were an abomination before God, and all mankind would face his wrath in light of that. The only way to regain the favor of God was to remove the abomination; yet, they couldn't kill the abominators. That too was a sin in the eyes of the almighty. The only thing left to do was to correct their abomination. Treatment and even torture had already tried and failed and they were ready to give up. Then her countenance and voice had changed to that of the loving and supportive wife he had known for the twenty-three years of their marriage. She then began to tell how the voice of God had spoken to her through Russ's mouth when he had come home a couple of years before and cheerfully told her how his research team had discovered and were taming a virus that would change a man into a woman. She had remained calm and played the role of supportive, submissive homemaker to draw him out and get more information out of him; all the while, she wanted to rip his face off for denying the path back to God's grace to the righteous. I could see tears flowing freely down his cheeks as he relived the emotional pain of this memory but he didn't stop talking. He continued by telling me how she had told him that it was the night she had become committed to taking what rightfully belong to the children of God. It had taken her and her cohorts all these months to make the necessary arrangements and put things in place. She had even told him about planting spies in his research team to give the righteous the necessary Intel and provide regular reports. Finally, after all was ready, they had come for what is rightfully, by the grace of God, theirs. They were here to take the serum so that they can correct the evil man has wrought on God's perfect plan. He had tried to reason with her, tried to tell her that it would be wrong to use the serum indiscriminately; he got viciously pistol whipped from the doctor who accompanied her for his trouble. It knocked him out of his chair but, even lying prone on the ground, he tried to change her mind. He told her that the serum was only in the early stages of testing on primates and that it hadn't ever been tested on a human yet. Her response had been to walk to his work station and pick up a vial. She then turned to him and congratulated him on being God's choice to lead the righteous back to grace. She had her two cohorts grab and secure him as she filled a syringe from the vial. She had no idea that the vial she was handling was the original sample and not the replicated serum. Chapter 5 I was caught off guard as the car suddenly slowed. We were out in the middle of nowhere, yet it seemed obvious that Russ was slowing in preparation of turning onto what looked like a long dirt road that led off a good distance into a tree line. "I'll tell you the rest of the story later, Don, but we are at my place and there are a number of mundane and trivial things we have to take care of right now," he said pleasantly as he wiped the tear tracks from his cheeks. The road seemed to be well maintained as we traveled between what appeared to be two arable fields, large arable fields. I had no idea what was being grown here as the fields looked to be recently plowed. Being late fall, I guessed that whatever it was had already been harvested. Russ told me that what I was seeing was actually owned by a neighboring farmer; the two fields together made up right at forty-six acres of crop-land. As we approached the tree line, he told me that the trees covered an additional ten acres. He had purchased this parcel from the current farmer's grandfather back in the late fifties. The farm family thinks that he is an academic writer who uses this place as kind of a get away so he can write in peace. From Russ's explanations, and descriptions, of the property, I don't know what I was expecting; but when we passed through the tree line, what I actually saw wasn't it. The front fa?ade of trees was only thick enough to ensure privacy, whatever the season. Inside the trees, the lane became engineered gravel as it passed between manicured lawns to a traffic circle in front of a large, beautiful, inviting residence. Off to one side of the circle there was a two story multiple car garage. As Russ stopped the car and began to climb out, he told me that once he had bought this place, he had to start thinking about what to build. Every time he tried to picture a dream house, as it were, he kept seeing an old lakeside bed and breakfast his parents used to take him to as a child; that, unfortunately, is no longer in business. He had many fond memories of that place so instructed the architects who designed this for him to use the B and B as a model. "Of course," Russ said simply, "there is no lake. But there is a large stream bordering the back of the property. I find it to be a great place to get away and just sit and think." As we climbed the few steps to the wide covered veranda, a large, well built man in coveralls and a Stetson came around the corner at the end of the house. As he approached, I could see that he looked to be in his mid thirties, well formed features gave him a reasonably attractive appearance; and, though he only stood about six foot two, I would guess, he would probably tip the scales at close to three hundred pounds, all of it in his chest shoulders and arms. Up close, the man looked huge. "Afta'noon Russell, we weren't expectin' you up here today." The man called cheerfully as he approached, extending his large paw-like hand in greeting. "Hi Terry," Russ returned, gripping the man's hand. "This was kind of an unexpected trip but it looks like we will be here for a few days at least." He stopped and turned to me. "Terry, this is Don, he is a new friend of mine; Don, I would like you to meet Terry Buckner, he's an axe murderer that I found. His wife and I are trying to convince him that people would really rather he didn't do that any more." Russ continued, obviously teasing Terry. "Now I tol' you, Russ, I may have broken a few," the man, Terry, responded, obviously going along with the ribbing. "But I never intentionally killed no axe. So, it would be closer to involuntary axe slaughter, than murder. But it's nice to meet you Don. Have you known Russell long?" "Actually, we just met a few hours ago." Russ said in a matter of fact tone. "Is he one of yours, then?" Terry asked with a knowing look as he turned toward Russ. "Yeah, involuntary and unplanned," Russ said with quiet remorse. That simple statement caused a look of genuine surprise to cross Terry's face. "The subject I had arranged to meet never showed up; so I had to do something. Unfortunately, considering my condition, Don here has been infected. So that is something that is going to have to be taken into consideration." He continued by way of explanation. I had no idea what was going on but apparently Terry did and, to his credit, seemed to take it all in stride as he turned to look at me. He laid a large gentle hand lightly on my shoulder. "Well, no worries, me and the wife, we will look after ya and try to make ya as comfortable as possible," He reassured me. "Ole Russ here, he brings someone like you here maybe a couple of times a year. So, don't worry, we know what it is you need and how to go 'bout helpin' you get situated." He had leaned in close and spoke to me conspiratorially. Although, with Russ standing less that two feet away, and looking directly at us, I don't know how much good it did. I could see that Terry was simply trying to put me at ease; as Russ just smiled with tolerant affection at Terry's antics. "Where is Lil anyway, Terry," Russ asked in polite curiosity from behind us as Terry, his arm wrapped around my shoulders in fatherly consideration led me into the house. "She went into Dillon 'bout an hour ago, talking 'bout needin' to pick up a few things."Terry replied jovially before his voice took on more menace. "She got herself a new book and I think she's been experimentin' again. I could call her if you need anything." He went back to the jovial tone. I don't know much (read jack) about such things as interior design but as we entered the house, I came face to face with the great room. It was one big room that stretched from the front wall of the house straight back to the back wall. It had been divided into a general living space in the front half and an open but formal dining space in the rear. There was lots of natural and finished wood in the room, the space felt large and airy, with lots of color provided by pillows, upholstery, and rugs. There was even a huge fireplace about halfway down the length of the room. The only thing I thought as we walked down its length is this is a very comfortable and friendly place. As we walked through the great room, Terry made it a point to tell me a little about the house and its layout. He also informed me that his wife, Lil or Lillian, collected cookbooks and liked to experiment in the kitchen. He assured me that most of what she came up with was actually very good; if not exactly something he himself would have tried on his own. But sometimes, the results of her experiments ranged from less than appealing to down right bad. Luckily, she never foisted those dishes off to folks at the dinner table. She only served dishes at the dinner table that had been tested beforehand; usually on him. As we got past the dining area, we walked through an open set of glass French Doors into a large game room. It, too, was divided into discreet areas. There was a second living room conversation suit on one end of the room facing a giant screen flat TV, in the middle section, along the back wall was a large, hardwood bar big enough for twelve barstools; between the bar and the doorway we were standing in sat a full sized, professional quality pool table and those little round bar tables around the edges of the space. Off to the right, was a small but well appointed dance floor, complete with jukebox; there was also an assortment of comfortable looking couches, loveseats and chairs surrounding the dance floor. If my folks had had a set-up like this in the basement when I was in high school, I might have never left home. Terry led us to the bar and then walked around to play bartender. "Umm, Terry?" I began nervously after he had placed my beer in front of me. "You mentioned that Russ has brought people like me here before..." I waited until he looked up at me and, eventually, gave me a nod. "Can I ask you what you meant by that?" I was on unfamiliar ground and, therefore, wasn't too sure of myself. I guess he could see it in my face because with a quick nod, almost as if to himself, he put down his drink and settled himself with his elbows on the bar directly across from where I was sitting. "I know what you are trying to say, Don," He began gently. "But before I get into that, let me say, with the greatest possible emphasis, that you truly are among friends; so you can relax. I know, and so does Lil, what Russ is and what he can do. In fact, Lil is only with us today because of what Russ is capable of." He paused, as if he were trying to organize his thoughts. "I'll get to that in a minute, but so far as you are concerned; the conversation we had out on the porch may have sounded like you and he were gay lovers looking for a weekend hideaway. But, because I know him, it told me a whole lot more. Oh, maybe not the details, but it gave me the gist of the sequence of events. That is why I was surprised when he said you were an unplanned and involuntary infection. Russ just doesn't operate like that without good reason. When he mentioned that the planned meeting fell through, I understood the reasons for your infection. And because I was told you are infected, I know that you did have oral sex with him. He doesn't have sex with all of the people he transforms; that is not the only way to make the transformation happen. It just happens to be the fastest, easiest, and most complete means of doing it. But, because there are consequences, possibly dangerous ones, it is a road he only travels in direst emergencies. By now, the virus has probably permeated your system, and you should become symptomatic anytime in say the next two hours. There is very little doubt that you are going to eventually become female. Like I said outside, we know how to help you make the transformation and adjust to your new circumstances. You are not the first transformee we have cared for or had to collect..." "Wait a second," I said quickly, catching a key phrase in what Terry said. "You said 'very little doubt' in reference to my becoming female; does that mean that there is some doubt?" Quickly looking over to Russ and receiving what seemed to me like a nod of permission, Terry said, "It hasn't happened often enough for us to gather any kind of numbers on it but, and I emphasize the but, there is the tiniest possibility that you will wake up male. I just wouldn't hold my breath on that possibility. And to tell the truth, I personally hope that it doesn't." With that statement, he once again looked at Russ. Something seemed to pass between them and I could see, for just a second, real fear in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Don," he said heavily, looking down at the bar top. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I realize that, for you, going through this and remaining male would be considered a good thing; but, for me, it would, I should say 'could' be a very bad thing. At least it was the last time. I know you haven't met her yet, but let me tell you how Lil and I met, and how we came to be here. This all happened 18 years ago; I was working vice in Baltimore. So was Lil, only she was a guy by the name of Eddie Torres; he had been my partner for almost four years at this point. For about seven months leading up to this point, we had been working on a wave of transgendered murders with a real bizarre twist: the bodies were desiccated and almost looked mummified (sort of like those Egyptian mummies you see in the museums), but their clothing often seemed to be new, or nearly new, and untouched. All told, there were a total of nine bodies found. After the first three, we had brought in the feds to help out. This was way beyond what we were able to deal with alone..." "Wait! Nine bodies," I couldn't help interrupting. "Wouldn't something like that have made the national news or something?" "You would think so," Terry agreed easily. "But, unfortunately, one of the trannies who got herself smoked was the nephew of some bigwig downtown. They got the story covered up so that news wouldn't get out. Anyway, I was busy for those seven months; I was doing legwork and interviews; you know regular investigative work, just like you see on TV. Meanwhile, Eddie was up in New York. The feds had gotten him hooked up with a pretty famous..." Terry was interrupted by the voices and movement outside the door to the dining room. "Terry! Sugar is that you?" I heard a feminine voice with a slight Hispanic accent. "Yeah, Honey we're in Here!" He casually hollered back. A couple of seconds later, two very different women appeared in the doorway. The first was obviously of Hispanic descent, with the high cheeks, big dark eyes, and incredibly lustrous thick, long black hair Latino women have always been noted for. This had to be Terry's wife Lil. She stood, I would guess, about five foot six and had a figure just the pleasant side of voluptuous. Looking at her I guessed that she was probably fifteen pounds or so beyond babe sizes but that little bit of extra padding just accentuated her luscious curves, and made her seem 'comfortable'; yes, she was beautiful, but this was someone who you could feel at ease talking to. For someone like me, whose last several dates were set up by friends, that was very nice to know. The other couldn't be more diametrically opposite if she had been designed for contrast. She was a small, pixie like redhead who stood no more than five foot two. She wore her rich red hair short, in a very feminine style. Her features were small and delicate; yet, her big blue green eyes were her grabbing feature (primary weapon?). They cast a spell of innocence over her face; yet, one did not have to look deep to see her underlying intelligence and strong sense of mischievousness. Her body was petit and well proportioned, although her bust (I had her figured for a large B or small C cup) was just big enough to throw off mathematical precision and make her look just slightly top heavy. If she had a real flaw, it would have to be the armor of professional aloofness and reserve she wore. "Hi love," Lil said coming into the casually into the room followed by the small redhead. "Look who I found in the driveway." Then she scanned the room to see who was with Terry. "Russell!" She squealed happily, bounding across the room to throw herself at the tall man and locking him in a kiss that was about two degrees shy of a 'take me to bed' invitation. Terry just stood there smiling easily in casual acceptance. "Hello Lil, hello Barbie." Russ said casually, still holding the pretty Hispanic woman close. I had been looking at the redhead and could almost hear her size 4 foot stomp as her face hardened. So this is the lady lawyer Russ called from the park. I guess that explains the aloof attitude. "Did I hear you talking about Eddie, honey?" Lil said to Terry, gently disentangling herself from Russ. She walked around the bar and slid up close to the large man; who in turn, wrapped his free arm around her waist and gently rested his hand on the upper curve of her shapely ass. It really surprised me that there seemed to be no hint of possessiveness, just a sort of easy going sense of comfort about the whole thing. During this exchange, Barbara made her way to the bar, sitting closest to Russ. "He's the only man who she'll kiss like that, but then, he's special." Terry leaned over and whispered to me with a good natured smile. Lil just stuck her tongue out at him and took his drink from his hand. Taking a sip, she made a face and turned to make herself one, asking Barbara if she wanted one. "Yeah we were hon," Terry said as Lil made drinks for herself and Barbara. He went on to explain that it was Russ's suggestion (I never heard Russ say anything), then touched on the circumstances surrounding my presence as explanation for Russ making the suggestion. "With you here now, maybe I should start over so you can fill in the things that I overlook." He finished with a look of encouragement to his wife. "You three go ahead," Russ said beginning to stand. "I need to discuss a few things with Barb-ara." He extended one arm politely to the tiny redhead, while grabbing her unfinished drink off the bar with the other hand. Chapter 6 "DAMMIT RUSSELL!!! She exploded as soon as they were safely behind the closed, heavy oak door of Russ's ground floor home office. "What do I have to do to make you realize that I am Not ten years old in a training bra anymore? Look," She demanded, emphatically pointing to her full breasts with both hands. "I'm thirty-four years old and I'm even wearing big girl bras now." "Young woman, I, more than anybody, am well aware of your physical status." He said in crisp tones through clenched teeth as he handed her abandoned drink. She caught his tone, and remembered who, more importantly what, she was talking to and that caused the heat to rise in her face. She could feel herself blushing furiously but she didn't falter. "That's right, Russell; I want you to think of me as a woman. Not sexually, I'm not some bimbo who has become infatuated with her godfather and is continuously lusting after him; nor as a light snack for you to nibble on. But as an adult woman; one with her own career and her own mind and her own will. Do you know how annoying it constantly being called 'Barbie' at my age? I am not a doll." She finally wound down, her last words said through gritted teeth. She took a sip of her drink to calm herself. She then returned her glare to Russ, "Having you call me 'Barbie Doll' was cute, and it was fun, when I was a little girl. But Russ, I'm not a little girl anymore; I don't know if you've realized it or not, but I've grown up. Yet, you have started calling me by my childhood nickname since Daddy got sick and I came back to look after things in the office for him. What I can't figure out is why and it's really beginning to bother me." The tiny redhead concluded, sitting back in the chair, waiting expectantly. "I'm sorry, honey," Russ replied gently. "I guess I just started using it again as a reminder to myself of a promise I made to your Dad." He turned to look at his goddaughter and saw the question in her eyes. "When your Dad was first diagnosed with the cancer, I took him on a fishing trip to your Grandpa Gunner's place for a week; just the two