Doc's Complex 04 - Fun With Changing Machines free porn video

Doc's Complex 04 - Fun With Changing Machines by Lee Most Copyright 2012 by Lee Most -------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 4 - Fun With Changing Machines In the auditorium, a beautiful woman raised her hand and spoke up. Doc admired her voluptuous figure as he listened to her protest. She wore the standard scientist's white coat as it had been redesigned to his specifications. That meant that it required no underwear underneath it, unless she was wearing panties. The built-in bra cups lifted and shaped her enormous boobs into almost perfect hemispheres, and the neckline was wide and low enough to show off just a bit more of those impressive half globes than she probably preferred. He did that a lot, to keep them on their toes. Below those magnificent protuberances, the tough but soft material, reinforced with sturdy spring-steel boning would act as a corset to reduce her waist as much as possible, and the skirt flaring out around her hips was short enough to show off her long, shapely legs, yet soft enough to drape around every curve below her waist. It did not bother Doc in the least that it constantly got caught between the cheeks of her prominent butt. Hugging her calves and knees she wore white leather boots with heels so high that her toes were pointed straight down, and she had needed both a Changing Machine's modifications and to Learn a special training mindtape before she was able to stand and walk in them. She had done it, though, because only Doc's most favored Girls were allowed to wear heels that high. To understand the footwear Doc liked his chosen Girls to wear (and yes, "Girls" was always capitalized in his mind,) and indeed many other things about Doc's preferences, you should know that when Doc was a small boy, the only person in his life who was nice to him, indeed the only person who was not mean to him, was the stunningly beautiful, voluptuously shapely mistress of his father, who he had hired under the nose of his wife ostensibly to take care of their misshapen dwarf of a child. An extremely intelligent young woman, she knew what life was like for someone who was only treated according to her appearance, and that woman, as far above the average in appearance as the ugly boy was below that line, formed a bond stronger than that of a loving mother and child. He worshipped her and she treated him kindly, and instilled in him a love of learning, science, and the wonders of the world that she knew she could never reveal to her employers. For a family to be seen as a proper one in that long ago time and in that dignified class of old money but "modern" values, Image was everything. The mother and the father were supposed to be the only visible models for the good behavior of their children. A child was to be seen and not heard, the saying went, but no one mentioned that the nanny was not even to be seen. And she definitely could not be seen to be smarter than the father or more attractive and desirable than the mother. No body is perfect, and her body had a significant flaw that a podiatrist today could have solved in a short time, but which had caused her no end of suffering. The arches of her feet were so abnormally high that she could not place her feet flat on the floor without suffering extreme pain. The only solution she could find that enabled her to stand or walk at all was to wear shoes and boots with extremely high heels. She was as uncomfortable wearing shoes with three-inch heels for an extended time as any other woman was, but for exactly the opposite reason. While other women could not wait to put their feet into comfortable shoes with flat heels after wearing heels that high, she could not wait to get out of those low heels so she could slip her feet into comfortable shoes with heels five or six inches high! The boy who would one day become the man known only as Doc loved his nanny. He idolized her and everything about her from her lovely face, the waist-length hair she would only let down when relaxing in his presence, her hourglass figure, and the way her long legs looked when she was relaxing in her specially-crafted boots with heels as high as, well, as the scientist who had just raised her hand and stood up to speak. The podiatrist of today who would have fixed that poor nanny's feet would have explained the long-term damage such high heels would do to tendons and muscles in her calves, her thighs, and even as far up her body as the curvature of her spine. That woman may have experienced such damage and possibly been crippled by her choice of footwear, but no one alive now will ever know. After years of her guidance and instruction and servicing of his father's sexual needs, the boy's mother finally discovered man and mistress together. The young lady was packed off to Europe and never seen again, although Doc spent much of the next fifty years searching for her. Past puberty by then, the mold of Doc's sexual preferences had been set. No one else ever saw past his misshapen face or his malformed body to love the boy they hid. After enough of such treatment, it would not have mattered if they had. The boy grew into a man who hated the rest of humanity with such a passion that he vowed he would rid it of all men and all women as beautiful as his idol, his goddess, his Pretty Girl! Sparks of the morality she instilled in the boy remained, though. Even as she was saying goodbye to him, she made her banishment into a lesson. "Please learn from this, my dear. It is the lesson I want you to learn above all the others, that as bad as you may think this is, they are not imprisoning me or killing me. They are merely making me start a new life somewhere else. They are not evil people, and as badly as she thinks of my behavior, she is only protecting herself by making it impossible for me to hurt her again. As much as I love you, we both know that this was not a good life for me, hiding from the world and having sexual relations with a man who could never love me. Now, I will go to Europe and live a new life, a different life, do you see? Think how wonderful the world would become if everyone who did something wrong, or who was living the wrong life could start afresh in a new place, could become the person they really should be, and create a new life that was so much better than the old one!" Those events happened a long time ago, though, and only memories of those memories still remained for Doc. He knew each Pretty Girl in his Complex personally, her name, her dreams, and her history. If she had come from the Real World, he knew who she had been, and how horrible her (or his) old life had been, and how wonderful her new life was here. This Girl was one of the original colonists who had helped found his Complex more than fifty years ago after living in his community of converts in upstate New York for a dozen years, yet she had the appearance and health of a woman only twenty-two years old. A former accountant named Marvin, May had discovered a love for the workings of the human mind that had made her one of the top one hundred experts on the subject in the world, a world that would never know, because the other ninety nine also lived and worked only in his Complex. "She's cute," Doc thought as he listened to what she had to say. "Fellow scientists, as entertaining as it is to watch an orgy among the young, I do not intend to spend the next fourteen days being a voyeur. I would far rather participate in one!" The audience cheered so much that she had to pause until they quieted down. "I propose that since Level 8 is cleared of everyone except the subjects we are watching, that we accelerate time on that level as needed so we can get home and have dinner by the time their fourteen days are over." Doc added to himself, "Impatient, though." Aloud, he said, "That is an excellent suggestion, May, because it dovetails with a request I have for volunteers. I'm going to compress their time even more than you suggest, because I want the whole experiment over in two hours! You see, our subjects will need to interact with other inhabitants of the Complex in order to have an accurate picture of how we live our lives, and you will all be pretending to be those inhabitants. Since this will be considered work, I can assure you that your time playing a casual stroller in the park or dancing and drinking at parties will not exceed today's allotted two hours of work time, although it will subjectively seem like more due to the time compression. Somme of you will have to interact with our subjects, but most will be there in the background. Who wants to pretend to be someone who lives in the Complex who interacts with our subjects?" Several hands went up, but there was also a lot of whispering and murmured comments. Calendar, a short, very round blond woman, stood and said, "I don't understand, Doc. You said you need us to pretend to be someone who lives in the Complex, but we all do live in the Complex. What are we supposed to do that's different?" He laughed. "Well, you can't be psychological scientists for the next two hours, so you'll all start when you go there by Changing yourself to look like one of Level 8's usual inhabitants, and those of you who will interact with them will also have to Learn that inhabitant's personality. There are only three hundred of you here, and you need to take the place of a Level that had over 12,000 Girls and several hundred men who thought they were hiding from me. You will each have to be several people, and many will even need to change genders a few times. Oh, this is going to be fun!" While Doc was surrounded by eager volunteers, Marielle sidled up to May and quietly asked, "He's not doing this for the reasons he stated, is he?" May put her arms around Marielle's shoulder and laughed, "Does he ever? Come on. I happen to know a couple who were planning an all-night orgy tonight on Level 8. Let's go be them!" ----------------------------------------------- Al backed away from Keela, his eyes wide. "What do you mean, 'How big do you want your breasts to be?' What are you talking about?" Several heads popped up from the group on the floor. "Well, you can't just walk around the Complex looking like men! The robots will get you for sure!" "Robots? What robots?" Exasperated by his ignorance, she took a deep breath and slowed down, talking as if to a small child. "You are trespassers here in Doc's Complex, where everyone is a beautiful, sexy, intelligent woman. There are no men allowed here. We are populated by women only, and the robots make sure that we are safe. If they find a man, they take him to an automated Changing Room like this one, put him on a table, and change him into a beautiful, sexy, intelligent woman. The Changing Machines will also erase his mind and install a new personality, making her think she has always lived here. Is that what you want to happen to you?" Al looked around the room, trying to absorb that new information. The tables with the strange devices all around them, the computer screens, the extra computers all around the walls. He looked closer at the things hanging from the ceiling. Those shapes would fit over the feet of someone lying on the table, and those others would fit over the hands. He bent and peered up inside to see all sorts of curved clamps and little lights that would wrap around and shine on each finger of a hand inside it. He then looked at the cone shapes that would fit right over the chest of anyone lying there, and he turned to stare at Keela's chest and then at the even larger breasts of some of the other women, who, with everyone else, were now sitting up and watching him and Keela. Eight men had been gone when they awoke in the mine, and there were eight women here in this room. No, it couldn't be! "Are you girls our buddies?" It was Cal, the genius of their party, who said what Al was thinking. "Are you the eight men who disappeared from the mine last night?" Al held Keela's shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "You were on that table when we came in. Were you a man who was caught by a robot and changed into a woman?" "Of course not," she angrily turned and brushed his hands from her shoulders. "How could you say that? I've always been a woman. I grew up here. These machines can be used manually, you know. It's not only the robots that use them, but if you go out there looking like a man, a robot will find you and will change you into a woman with no other option." Uncomfortably, Al held his hand up and held up two fingers. Pointing at each, he said, "So, you're saying that I have two options. One, I use these machines voluntarily to change myself into a woman, or two, I don't, and a robot does the same thing to me whether I want it or not." "That's it!" shouted a man I haven't mentioned before named Tom, "You girls are great and all, but I'm not hanging around to be changed into a girl. I'm going to make a break for it and go back to that mine. We can chop through that rock in another day or two, and we'll be able to go back home, safe, and sound, and male! Is anyone with me?" Al looked at Keela, thinking of that kiss. "Not me," he said, reaching out for her hand and drawing her to his side. "I think I have what I really want right here." There were private little discussions all over the room as the others stood up and talked in twos and threes, but everyone heard the answers. "Are the robots fast?" "No one's ever escaped them." "Can I keep my cock?" "As long as no one can see it through your clothes." "Breasts? I could have breasts? How big?" "I think C-cup is the smallest you can get away with." "No, I mean, if I'm going to have tits, I want the biggest ones ever, so how big, really big, can they be?" The discussions were so intense that Al was only vaguely aware when Tom said, "You're all really going to do it! You're crazy! I'm getting out of here," and he took off running out the door. With only eight men left and eight women, it seemed natural for them to pair up. Keela and Al went to the table she had lain on, and at her direction, took off his clothes and lay down on it. She did something to something and the screen above his head lit up. A feminine shape appeared, then one of the arms on the right side of the bed moved, shone a beam of red light on his head and then swept it down the length of his body. It was very bright, and when the afterimage of the glare faded from his eyes, he saw the image on the screen had changed from a feminine silhouette to an image of his head and body. "That's very good," he said. "I didn't know computers could show pictures." "Maybe they can't in the Real World, but this is Doc's Complex. We're all scientists and engineers, artists and mechanics." "Yeah, I remember: beautiful, sexy - very sexy in your case - intelligent women. What kind of scientist are you?" She smiled and shook her head, "I don't know what you would call it. I make things that work." "An inventor?" "Yes, no, I don't know: I take things apart and make them work better. Maybe you could call me an improver, if you have to put a label on me. Now let me improve your image here." As he watched his image, the waist became narrow, then his arms and legs and neck. It turned and he saw his ass grow and become rounder, "You have a terrible posture," she murmured, and he saw the small of his back curve in more. "There. Now we go back to my original question: How big do you want your breasts to be?" Al was going to say "the same as yours," but now he thought of an even better answer: "You're the one who's going to look at them and play with them. How big do you want them to be?" The image on the screen did not change although he stared at it intently. Then, suddenly Keela's face leaned over from the side of the table. "That," she said, "was the right answer!" and she gave him the second of the most incredible kisses in the world. ----------------------------------------------- After a million more tiny adjustments, Keela said, "Here y'go, Alice!" Al thought , "I wonder if I'll ever get used to being called 'Alice.' For that matter, I wonder if I'll ever get used to the way she never says 'you' without contracting it." Without last names, in most cases, Doc insisted that each individual in his Complex should have a uniquely spelled name, and everyone had to have a feminine or gender-neutral name. After all this time, most of the common spellings of girls' names had already been used, so Keela had thought he would need to choose a variation on the spelling of "Alice" when she programmed it into the Changing Machine. Apparently everyone else who had chosen a variation on Alice had also thought the same thing because the original spelling was still available. The table vibrated as machinery inside it started up, and then a million things seemed to happen at once. The chest, hand, and foot covers lowered, a helmet slipped onto his head, and all the mechanical arms began moving at once, most of them at speeds that only machinery could achieve. At first, Al had thought they looked like the drills that a dentist used, but looking at a slow-moving arm he saw that the silver cables that ran to each joint were there to pull in different directions like the ones on an airplane that moved the flaps up and down, and the rudder back and forth. At the end of each arm a lens emitted a beam of colored light. Different colors seemed to do different things. The yellow beam made the fat in his belly ripple and seem to melt into a sort of bubble or lump under his skin, and when the bubble was a couple of inches across, the arm moved and the bubble stayed in the center of the yellow spot of light on his skin. It was somewhat troubling to see the lump of fat moving under his skin to the edge of the cone and then get sucked under the edge like a kid slurping a piece of ravioli off a spoon. It was even more disturbing to see that a team of six robot arms began causing steady parallel parades of such bubbles to march to the edges of the two cones, each arm moving back over his belly as soon as it reached a cone, each bubble taking only a second or so to complete its journey. Red beams were repeatedly played along the lengths of his arms and legs, and each time he looked at the mirrors above him, he seemed to have smaller muscles where the red light had touched. Very dim, white beams seemed under-powered at first, but when one was aimed at his shin bone, his leg glowed from within. He looked at Keela, "What's the white one doing down there?" She glanced at it and said, "Bone repair. If we were making y'taller or shorter, it would also add or subtract calcium to make the bone longer or shorter. Yer getting a full body repair while all this is going on. No more scars or blemishes, and it checks every organ and repairs it if anything is found wrong. I hope y'don't mind, but yell look a few years younger when this is over. Charlettia over there is sixty years old, and she looks just as young as me." Al could not turn his head, or indeed move any part of his body other than his eyes, but he saw Keela look across to the next table and grin sheepishly, "Sorry, Charlettia!" The blue beams were split into dozens of tiny dots that quickly flashed on and off as the robot heads that projected them crisscrossed all over, aiming the dots at any part of his body where no other lights were shining at the time. Al watched them for almost a minute before he determined that his masculine body hair had disappeared wherever they had been. Some beams were hot, and some drained heat away from whatever they were doing. Others created sensations like tingles, tickles, or itching, made more annoying by his not being able to rub or scratch the affected areas. Before he'd lain down he saw the table's surface was not solid, but perforated by thousands of tiny holes, and by the heat, cold, tingles, tickles, and itching he felt, he knew that his dorsal side was bombarded by as many colored beams as his anterior. He thought he had identified what each color did, but when Keela explained that the fuchsia beams worked on his lymph nodes, the salmon beams worked on lactic ducts, and the coral beams specialized in glands, he gave up trying. They all looked pink to him! Dazzled by the light show playing over his body in the mirrors at first, he relaxed his gaze and looked past the thousands of colored circles and dots and constantly moving metal arms to see what was happening to his body; what was changing. After only two or three minutes, he had almost no masculine body hair left, and what little was left would soon be targeted and zapped, as he thought of them, by the tiny blue phaser beams. The muscles in his arms and legs, and what he could see of his chest around the metallic cones was melting away even as he watched. His legs and his waist already looked very feminine, but as he watched they steadily shrank even more. He was not sure if his hips were bigger than they were, or if his thighs and waistline had become so much smaller that his hips only seemed much larger by comparison. They looked huge in the mirrors. Looking at his face, he noticed first that his neck and chin were much smaller, more delicate, with more graceful curves. The yellow beams had moved bubbles of fat from all over his face and neck, his arms and sides, and they all had been absorbed by the tall, thick cones. No, now there were dozens of arms shooting yellow rays, and yellow-lit bubbles of fat were being distributed everywhere, arms, legs, shoulders, neck, even a couple of large ones were brought back up to his face, where they seemed to melt and spread under his skin to cover and soften every remaining sharp angle. Even after that, though, his face and what he could see of his body looked so much thinner than his comfortable, slightly pudgy self. He was reminded of what he had looked like after an extreme diet at the end of his high school year, when he?d lost fifty pounds and for the first (and last) time in his life he had actually been underweight. His body had not looked like this, though. Then, he had been scrawny, but now he looked like a mostly slender, healthy girl. His hips were definitely bigger than before he?s gotten onto the table, but he had to admit that Keela knew what she was doing. He looked like he had a woman?s hips now. The helmet slid off, its work done, and hair spilled out of it, flowing all around his head where it rested, and spilled off the table. ?Hair! So much hair,? he blurted out, ?and it?s brown! I have brown hair!? ?No, it?s chestnut,? Keela corrected. ?I like women with long, chestnut hair and green eyes.? ?Green eyes? I didn?t ask for green eyes, aah!? He screamed because two robot arms suddenly came into view, huge because they were so close. Then he screamed again when they glowed with a dim orange light. It was the dim ones, he had learned, that went deep. He stared at them for an hour or two, and after a few seconds they went away to aim some other colored beam at something else. When the arms had nothing left to do, they pulled away and retracted under the table. After less than five minutes, they were all gone. The table stopped vibrating, and Keela said, ?I?m going to lift the modifiers now. I hope y?like the results, Alice.? He hoped so, too. She had shown him all the other changes in advance, but had turned off the overhead screen before she had set up what his breasts would look like. ?Or my hair and eyes, apparently,? Alice thought to himself, glancing again at the mass of ?chestnut? hair that covered the whole end of the table. The foot and arm covers retracted up to the ceiling, and he saw that like almost everything except his hips they had become smaller and more delicate, and that all his nails were red, especially the inch-long talons on his fingers. ?Before I raise the cones, y?want to guess what I chose? Small, medium, large, or huge?? ?Uh,? he could turn his head now. ?Which of those do you consider yourself?? Before he had come here, he would have said her breasts were the largest he had ever seen, including all the Playboy centerfolds he had collected for the past six years. ?Medium, of course. I only wear an F cup bra when I wear one.? Alice gulped and said what he hoped she had chosen. He really did not want any breasts at all. He was a man, for Heaven?s sake!. ?Then I guess a small. You wouldn?t want your boyfriend to compete with you, would you?? She gave him a strange look, then smiled. ?Yer so funny, Alice! I grew up here in Doc?s Complex. We?re all women. Whatever made y?think I?d want a BOYfriend?? He felt the cones begin to rise, and as they did, he saw they were filled from edge to edge with flesh. The huge cones kept going up, and more and more of the mass of mammary tissue inside them revealed itself, not sliding out but clinging to the insides of the cones as they were pulled away. An inch, then two inches, then three, and Alice stared, horrified that the column of breasts on his chest refused to taper off. Six, seven, eight, nine inches, and then suddenly the mass let go and dropped onto his chest, bouncing and quivering like a couple of huge globes with nipples on top. They jiggled and perched on his chest like gigantic dollops of whipped cream made of ? ?Well,? he thought and he looked again in the mirror at his tiny waist and slender, feminine arms and legs, ?I have no fat almost anywhere else. It?s all gone up here and down to my hips and thighs. Would she have been able to make them this big if I hadn?t been so damn fat?? He looked around the room at the other men, all of whom had been athletic, and all of whom had much smaller boobs than he did. He guessed that all of them had chosen the smallest breasts they could get away with. It looked like only women occupied the room now; not a single one of the men still had his own face, and they all had very shapely female bodies, at least from the hips up and the thighs down. There were some very shapely female hips and thighs in this room with some not-so-female genitalia dangling down, or in a few cases sticking out. He wondered who had been which of his friends. It looked like he was the last to finish, as the others were all sitting or standing, and many crowded around in the corner where Keela had gotten her clothes, so Alice began trying to lift himself to a sitting position. His first attempt failed. ?Damn! These things are heavy,? he blurted out, and propped himself up on an elbow only to discover that his long hair was caught on something off the edge of the table. He swept his arm along the table?s edge, found the trapped locks, moved them back and forth to free them, and then pulled all of his long hair over to the side of the table to his left. That was when he discovered that the added weight of his breasts was not all that he would need to consider when moving around. His hair also weighed a ton! Well, not a ton, but his head weighed far more than he was used to, that was for sure! Making a second attempt to sit up, he turned onto his side. His massive mountains shifted and then slid around, the left boob resting on the table, his right one sticking almost straight out above it. For all their size and weight, they did not sag at all. Then, he used his arms to push himself up as he slid his legs off the edge so he could sit on the edge of the table. He stared down at his new breasts. They floated in front of his chest, as if they were as light as balloons, but they sure did not feel that way! ?Holy booby, Batman!? someone shouted. ?You?re the winner in the tit department!? ?Good grief, they?re enormous,? said a (Alice glanced at the crotch) man with a perfect Playboy Playmate figure and curly, shoulder-length blond hair ?Who are you? I can?t tell who anyone is anymore!? ?Alice,? said Alice distractedly. ?My name is Alice.? Keela stood before him, practically bouncing in place because she was so proud of her accomplishment. ?See how big they are without sagging? I improved them,? she gushed. ?I had the machine add strength to y?pectoral and trapezius muscles, tightened y?tendons and added some titanium to their cell structure, and used a trick I learned last year to make y?skin able to support more of their weight without even drooping against your skin below them.? She slipped her hand underneath and stroked his torso. ?See? I can rub y?skin down here and y?can?t even feel my hand touching y?breasts, right?? It?s taking me forever to describe all his observations, but from the time he sat up until the time he joined everyone else at the clothing dispenser was really only a minute or two, and Keela?s long explanation below occurred in between other comments and instructions while they were getting him dressed and made up. Alice nodded, and then held his hands up to look at how tiny they now were, and the sides of his arms slid against the sides of his breasts, sending ripples through them as if they were filled with a slow-moving liquid. His hands looked so small, especially compared to the huge breasts right next to them! The shiny red nails extending from his fingertips made his slender fingers look twice as long as his ?real? hands were, and as he examined them, he saw that there were no scars and the callous he?d had as long as he could remember from holding a pencil or pen against his index finger was now as smooth and soft as the rest of his skin. Hand, breasts, the next step was obvious. The result was not! The sound that emerged from Alice?s mouth made everyone?s head turn to look at him, and made Keela blush and put her hands on her ears. Some people across the room put their hands on their ears, too! I don?t think the sound he made can be described in words, but perhaps Keela?s remarks about what she had done to him may help to explain why he made it. ?Oh, I forgot to tell y?that I improved all y?nerve endings and added a bunch more to the skin of y?breasts. You see, I asked Doc what was the thing that men who got breasts complained about the most, and he said that they expected a woman?s breasts to be more sensitive than breasts really were, especially on and around the nipples. So I asked, ?What did they expect? I mean it?s the same part of the body as a man?s chest, so why should it feel any different? In fact, it?s bigger, so the nerve endings are spread out more, making the average square inch have less sensitivity, not more.? So he said that y?men din?t see breasts that way. Y?invest so much of yer energy in fantasies about our breasts that y?don?t check with a real woman to find out how we feel. In y?fantasies, he said, a woman?s breasts are sexual organs and y?imagine we have an orgasm whenever our breasts are stroked or rubbed, and y?assume that our nipples must be the most sensitive part because our nipples are so much bigger. It made no sense to me. If a baby was going to suck and bite a part of my body, I would want it to be less sensitive, not more so, but yer a man, not a woman, and y?won?t be having babies anyway, so I made y?breasts into sexual organs. I had nothing else to go on, so I modeled the density of nerve endings on y?penis, so the skin of y?breasts has about the same number of nerve endings as the skin of the shaft of y?penis, and the skin of yer areolas and nipples has the same nerve density as y?glans. Then I rem?bered a report on the differences between the sexes and it said a man?s glans has fewer nerve endings than a woman?s clitoris per square inch, so to make up for that, I improved the sensitivity of all the nerves throughout y?breasts and nipples so they?re about four times as efficient. Then I rem?bered how tender my nipples were when I first started to develop, and realized that with all those extra nerve endings and sensitivity, any pain or heat or cold would be much too intense, so I wangled things around a bit so it?s only the pleasurable sensations that are magnified. I can tell by y?reaction to y?first few squeezes that I did a good job. I?m glad yer a screamer, by the way, because I sort of hold everything in when I come, and it?s good when my lover makes some noise, but are y?going to squirt like that each time y?climax? That could mess up y?clothes!? Everyone concentrated on getting the males dressed first. There was a general feeling that a robot could come in at any time, and if they saw the men?s genitals, (cue echoing deep voice) Bad Things Would Happen. The society of Doc?s Complex had been hiding its males for so long that they had perfected the art of concealing male parts. In the Real World, a TV who does not pass might get beaten up or arrested. In the Complex a male who is detected will cease to exist. There is a lot more motivation for getting it right! In fact, the catalog had a separate section for such things that was almost as big as the section for shoes. It displayed screen after screen of a variety of artificial vaginas, gaffs, chastity belts, and merkins, as well as many things we don?t have names for at all in the Real World. One of the latter items was the quickest one to use. It was a sort of rubbery glob that fit in the crotch of a pair of bikini panties that simply made the male parts disappear when the panties were pulled up, and reappear when they were pulled down. (I love science fiction!) Charlettia had ordered eight of those globs, so the first thing Alice did when he got to the corner was to put on a pair of panties with one of those globs in it. He got to test its efficacy far sooner than he?d thought when in the crush of people around the clothing dispenser, his breasts were rubbed by so many arms, legs, backs, and breasts that he came again. His pleasure at anyone even lightly touching just about any part of his breasts gave him no end of satisfaction, so he did nothing to prevent such accidental strokes and brushes against other people, and in fact he may have stood a little closer than necessary. When he felt his second orgasm building, he leaned against a wall and used his hands to bring himself over the top. It only required three or four squeezes after all that stimulation, and this time he was prepared for it. He clamped his lips and eyes shut and clamped his hands on his breasts when he came, and let the pleasure just wash over and through him, radiating from his marvelous mounds in waves that saturated his entire being. Trying to make as little noise as possible, only a tiny sound like a kitten?s mew escaped his lips this time, and there was no sign of an erection or any liquid at all from his nether region. Not only was there no hard-on, but he did not feel anything down there, either. ?That?s scary,? he thought when he had recovered, and he pulled down his panties to check. There it was, as limp and dry as when he had put on the panties in the first place. Just to be sure, he poked it with the long nail of his index finger, and he could definitely feel the sharp pressure where he touched himself. He pulled the panties back up, and as before, when he tested for any sensations by poking from the outside, all his finger felt was the rubbery goo through the thin fabric of the panties, and nothing at all from inside them. He could not see his own panties past his enormous breasts, but the shape of the goo inside the panties of the other men suggested that there was a vulva inside them instead of a cock and balls. It was a pretty good disguise. ?I saw that,? Keela whispered, coming to lean on the wall next to him. ?It gives me dozens of ideas for fun things we can do with your new body!? If you were to think that Alice had always lived a very modest lifestyle, with ?Activities shared with women? far down on the list of his most common activities, you would be correct. He had a sister who thought of him as a creep and a nerd and who avoided him like the plague. He was the guy the athletic men tolerated because he could get them things like the map to the mine and because he provided no competition at all when there were girls around. Now, the others were treating him differently than ever before. When he arrived at the corner where they all waited for their turn at choosing clothes, let him go straight to the front of the line to choose clothes, pressing him to go ahead of the ones who had been waiting there longer. In other, little ways that he did not notice at first, the other men treated him with more respect, or acted as if his opinion was the one that they should have, too. It seemed that in a world where men had breasts, the one with the biggest breasts was the leader. He, on the other hand, deferred to Keela. ?I?ve never worn a bra in my life,? he said, ?and I don?t even know where to start.? ?Well, you know your size, right? That?s the first thing you need to put in.? He was about to say that he did not know how big he was, when he realized that he did. ?H! I wear a 32-H bra and I have L9S-shaped breasts! How do I know that?? He typed the information into the different fields, and then began scrolling through the selections, each image not only showing the design of the bra, but how it would look on a torso with his shaped breasts. ?The Changing Machine gave you all the knowledge you need to live in your new body. It would be a fine thing if we spent all our time learning to live with each change we made to ourselves, wouldn?t it? We?d never get anything done. Oh, choose that one!? His fingers automatically entered the letters below the image and a few seconds later a little bell sounded and the bra was in the cabinet next to the panel. Next, Keela suggested he get a leopard-patterned catsuit with built-in boots. ?You?ll only need to order one item, and everyone else can get something, Al.? ?Al? My name is Alice!? Keela just grinned at him, and he looked back at her, wondering what she was up to. Then he heard what he had just said, and repeated it in amazement. ?My name is Alice! Oh dear! I have a girl?s name now!? He felt more shaken by his masculine name being changed to a feminine name than by his masculine body being changed to a feminine one, and he looked around at the others in the room. ?This is really happening! It really is! I?m here in a woman?s world, and I?m becoming a woman! Oh why is this happening to me?? Keela was right about his knowing how to live with his new body. He picked up the bra and was arranging his breasts in the cups when he realized he had fastened it without even thinking about it. Much the same thing happened with the catsuit. He gathered it up as he would a pair of panty hose, stepped into the built-in boots, slid it up his legs, and the next thing he knew, he was smoothing his hands up his legs to remove the wrinkles. ?I?ll bet those heels make y?feet feel rilly good,? Keela remarked, chewing her lower lip nervously. ?Oh, yes! I was walking around on my toes until I could step into them and,? Alice trailed off and looked down at his feet. The heels built into this catsuit were so tall that he now looked down at Keela. Suspiciously, he asked her, ?What did you do to my feet?? ?Nothing, Alice. I?m sorry, but I f?got the default setting on these automatic ones is always Doc?s favorite. I f?got to turn it off. We can change it back in my suite if y?want, but I?d rilly like to get out of here. You want to do hair first, or makeup first?? ?Hair, definitely!? Alice?s hair was a wild, tangled mess that curled all around his head, his shoulders, his breasts, his back, his waist, his hips, and had even tickled the backs of his knees before he?d put on the catsuit. ?Oh! I just rem?bered why I thought it?d be okay for y?to have that hair!? She dashed to the shelves with stacks of clothing and personal items and came back with a golden wire shaped into a half circle. ?This one has the controls in these jewels here, here, and here. Go ahead. Put it on.? Alice did not know what it even was at first, but as soon as he took it, he knew exactly what to do with it. Keeping his fingers on the first and second jewel, he slipped in onto his head, got it into position, and released the controls. His hair instantly began to behave itself. He went to a mirror and watched as his hair formed itself into pretty curls around his face, while the rest flowed to his back and fluttered as if blown by an invisible wind so it stayed at a little more than a hand?s distance away from his back. The others were all getting dressed as well, and the outfits they had chosen made Alice think that besides the girls, these were another reminder that they were not in the Real World, a Keela kept calling the world outside the Complex. One had chosen to wear leather. White leather. Shiny white patent leather. She (He had lost track of who were the girls and who were the guys, and they all looked like women anyway, so why not call them all ?she? and ?her??) She wore a white vest with only a single button at the bottom, just above her belly button, so her neckline framed a very impressive cleavage, and a skin-tight pair of white hot pants, both studded with star-shaped rivets, and matching thigh-high white boots with heels as high as Alice?s. To complete the set, she had on white, kid- leather gloves that reached past her elbows. One of her neighbors had chosen only a pink bikini top that matched her bikini panties, and the open-toed sandals she slipped on. Alice noted that her heels, like Keela?s, were only three inches high. Another had no top on at all, but had decorated her upper torso with a dozen golden chains that barely covered her enormous nipples. Other women were dressed in everything from a skintight gleaming silver body suit, to a conservative blouse and skirt, to a fake fur bikini, to a transparent top and bell bottom pants whose bottoms flared out more than many dresses. One woman was ahead of them in line to use one of the two makeup devices. When she got up, Alice sat down wondering how to use it, and again, when he touched the control panel he found that he knew all about it, including the various shortcuts. He tapped three buttons, leaned forward and felt the familiar ?puff? that meant it had accomplished what he had asked it to do. ?Why was that so familiar? I?ve never used that thing before,? he whispered to Keela after she had used it. ?Y?learned how in the Changing Machine, right? Well that knowledge had to come from someone else who learned it the hard way, through experience. Doc had her record her knowledge and experience of the makeup machine, and you Learned it while you were in the Changing Machine. She had used it so much that she felt familiar with it, so when you Learned how to use it, you not only got her knowledge, but also some of her memories. You look very pretty, by the way.? Alice blushed at the compliment. ?Why am I blushing at being called ?pretty?? I?m a man under all this!? He felt so embarrassed at exhibiting such girly behavior that he blushed even redder than at the compliment itself. He wanted to bury his face in his hands, but stopped just in time. ?No,? he told himself, ?I don?t want to smear my makeup!? Then he stared at his hands as if they were the reason he could not touch his face, his oh-so-feminine, small, slender hands, with their beautifully long nails and ?Sultry Red? nail polish. ?Oh, why would a man care about smearing makeup! And what man not only wears nail polish or has long nails, but even knows what color ?Sultry Red? is? What is happening to me? Will I ever be a man again at all?? His self-pity was interrupted by a loud clanking sound approaching the doorway, and soon a mechanical man entered, carrying the limp body of Tom, the man who had tried to run back to the cave. It arranged Tom on his back on one of the metal tables, and the screen above that table immediately came to life. The robot aimed its camera eyes at each of the humans in the room in turn, and then stomped its way out of the door and off into the distance. ----------------------------------------------- To Be Continued! ----------------------------------------------- Author's note: I wrote about four times as much as I meant to for this chapter, but I got a lot of the stuff covered that I had meant to cover earlier. Part of the fun of writing a novel for NaNoWriMo is that I never know how the story will go once it gets started. When I sketched out an outline last month, Keela was not even mentioned, and now she and Alice seem to be headed for a romantic relationship. I'm writing this novel as part of the 2012 NaNoWriMo challenge, in which I intend to post a chapter a day during November. For more info about National Novel Writing Month, see www.NaNoWriMo.org. By the way, if you like to write and can't resist improving this story with extra characters or new adventures or situations for the existing characters, go ahead! I know other writers can describe that orgy in a much more exciting way than I did, for instance, and I can't describe more than a few of the 17 of the people in the room and what happens to each of them. You have my permission to post your version on FictionMania. To avoid confusion, add a letter to the chapter #, like "Doc's Complex 03a", and make up a new title. Who knows? If enough people do it, FictionMania may add a new category! Editing/Reposting: If you want to post this or an edited or amended version of this story anywhere other than FictionMania, send me a message so I'll know where it is. (I'm not against other people reading my stuff. I just want to know how far it can spread.) If you can figure out a way to make a profit from my writing and do, the share I claim is owed to me is modest: $0.01 per copy read on screen or printed or downloaded, or 1% of gross sales, or 10% of the profits, whichever of the three amounts is largest.