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Changed in Space by Lorna Samuels & Lisa Funke © 1986 Disclaimer: The following work was originally published in the mid-1980's by Empathy Press (Seattle) in the book/pamphlet "Skirted Men" #32, which had the only full color cover issued for that series. This work is the exclusive property of the authors and Empathy Press, by whose permission it has been electronically reproduced for dissemination to certain Internet web masters for presentation on their sites. Any reproduction or redistribution without express written (or e-mailed) consent is strictly prohibited. All Rights Reserved. Sue and I had done rather well with our confidence routine, taking credits from old folks for almost twelve years. Digital banking made theft of any real value difficult, but we had worked out a way. One of us would sleep with the 'mark' while the other programmed a transfer. The sucker would only find out about it when they banked the next time. Meanwhile, we would shuffle the credits through dummy accounts several times to hide our trail and confound anyone trying to trace the transactions. Generally, we rationalized that The System's pervasive law enforcement was too busy to bother with non-violent miscreants like us. And, even if they did bother to track us down, the penalty would probably be little more than a short enforced visit to one of several penal planets. So we were careful to keep a low profile by not doing any physical injury to our 'clients' or bystanders. By keeping 'under the legal radar' and colony hopping, we hoped to manage a substantial livelihood, albeit a mobile one by necessity, for a long time. As I said, we managed to sustain a comfortable living for several years. But despite our best efforts, our luck ran out far sooner than we expected, and it was our own dumb fault. They tracked us down through our supposedly perfect transfer system. We had always known that we could not keep it up forever, so when the end came we tried to take our medicine gracefully, despite the shock. It helped somewhat to learn that we would not be forced to endure a cramped jail cell of concrete and bars, but internment on a new frontier planet at the edge of The System, out of the way. It could have been worse, so we accepted our fate with dignity. Besides, it wasn't as if we had a choice. We were given one-way passage to Zeta IV, one of The System's penal planet/colony for non-violent criminals and malcontents. The means of ?shipment? was a huge cargo vessel converted for prisoner transport. When new, more than eighty years ago earlier, it had been a fast second-class cargo hauler with a Tak rating of 6. Now she was slow compared to most other commercial ships being used. The 129 Light Year distance to Zeta IV took an Interminable 114.6 Terra Standard Days. There were seventeen of us, thirteen men and four women, ranging in age from fourteen to forty-eight. The crew of five avoided us, preferring their own securely sealed area. However, our section of the ship had been modified so the crew had complete control over us. Cameras and microphones monitored our entire section, even the latrines. There wasn't a private unexposed niche to be found anywhere. The rules were simple. We could have privacy from our fellow 'passengers' in our cabins or mingle in the lounge, but we could not fight or fuck. I mean, Sue and I had been enjoying each other for years, but now, for over three months, we were forbidden that pleasure. Without computer access or vid-flicks the journey was boring in the extreme. The old-fashioned book library aboard that was available to us was archaic. Time passed slowly since few in our little group were very sociable and we were inside a very efficient prison. Finally, Zeta IV appeared in the view port. While we maneuvered into a standard stationary orbit, I got a good look at our new home, our jail. It was beautiful, similar to Old Terra but with far more water. Several large landmasses were visible through the cloud cover, strung like giant green and brown splotches along the equator. We landed near the center of the largest 'continent,' hardly more than a very large island, but somewhat larger than the old Terran area once called Australia. We were transferred to a shuttle, sensors insuring that only the lightweight jumpsuits and our bodies were allowed onto the craft. The ride down was very uncomfortable since we were crammed into an area intended for ten occupants, not seventeen, and we were banged around by the auto-control (no human pilot) that had been set for a 3G descent and a 2G landing. When the shuttle door finally popped open we were at the entrance to a reception center, bruised and disoriented. Three women waited to escort us into a large conference room with seating for about 50. When we took our seats I realized that Sue's sweaty trembling hand had been gripping mine since we left the transport. My hand was numb from her fierce grasp. A huge vid screen was unveiled behind the stage and rostrum and we were introduced to the man whose image appeared there. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began. "We all know why you are here and your dossiers have preceded you so we also know who you are. Zeta IV's first settlers established our laws and customs over 120 years ago and an orderly community has resulted. Although we are technically one of The System's penal colonies, we are self-governed and almost completely self- supporting. "You must always remember that our social system works, even though you may be in for some major shocks as our methods are explained to you. We expect Terra and The System to continue sending us several thousand exiles a year for the next 30 to 50 years. So, I warn you now for the first and last time. We will have very little patience with those of you who would continue your lawless ways here. "Zeta IV presently boasts a population exceeding two million. But, our goal is to be at five million by year 170. This growth will allow early recognition in the community of worlds, The System, and make Zeta IV a full-fledged member of The System, no longer a penal colony. The System has used this method several times in the past to populate similar worlds on the fringes of explored space but none has yet achieved a System Charter because they have not reached the required population level. Zeta IV will be the first! This is our objective! Our society and government are totally dedicated to its achievement. However, the influx of 'colonists' like you will never be enough to achieve our ends. The growth we require can only be reached by a continued high birth rate. Therefore, since we expect all Zetans to reproduce as rapidly as possible, any associations formed by any of you women will be enthusiastically encouraged. In addition, other women will be joining your group during your stay here at the Center until more permanent arrangements are made. "In our system everyone contributes. Therefore, over the next few days you will be required to undergo a variety of testing and evaluations that will assist us in determining where you will best fit into our society. You must forget whatever your 'talents' were before you set foot on Zeta. Our evaluation procedures are thorough and efficient and we will determine your future, regardless of your wishes. Besides, since you know nothing of the unique order into which you have been 'dumped' by The System, you are in no position to decide what is best for yourself or us. The next days will be busy and exhausting, but I think we will all benefit. "You are here to stay so you had better make the most of it. Just remember that many of the people you see here were once in the same position. Thank you for your kind attention." The vid went blank and a woman stepped forward and asked each of our women with whom she wanted to live. Sue immediately answered that she would go with me, of course, much to my relief and satisfaction. We were all given a thick folder of papers with our names stenciled across them in big block letters. It contained a meal schedule, a map of the facilities, and a long itinerary of preliminary testing times and locations. When Sue and I compared our packets, we found that we were to be tested separately. Quarters were then assigned to each man and we were given directions. The women were gathered together and taken away while we men were released to find our new residences and settle in. My room was very nice. In fact it turned out to be a spacious well- furnished apartment. The front door opened into a living room that included a first-rate entertainment center and a wet bar, while a short hall led to a den and two bedrooms, each with its own private facilities. The larger room had a king-sized bed, and the closet contained a small selection of modern male clothing, all in my size, mostly casual cut, but there were two suits and even workout gear. The smaller bedroom had only a single bed but included a makeup alcove and a sitting area. Sue arrived about an hour later to find me lounging in the living room with a large drink half consumed. I watched her quickly and professionally survey the apartment before she sat beside me and accepted my offer of a drink as we talked. "Well," I said, "what do you think of our little prison. Not bad, huh?" She accepted her drink and sipped at it. "It's really nice Ray, almost posh. We'll be quite comfortable here, even if it is a jail. Of course, it's not much of a lockup, is it? What's the rest of this place look like?" She giggled and there was a lively sparkle in her eye. As I showed her around, I was struck by the fact that the separate bedrooms did not surprise her. She never did say what happened to her and the other women after we were separated. But she was so bubbly and even coy, I knew for certain we would be sharing my large bed soon after dinner. The next day our evaluations started. At the Testing Center, I was met by a middle-aged. "Good morning, Ray. I'm Nancy, and I'll be in charge of your program, which will probably last about three months." "Testing for three months?" I exclaimed. "Incredible!" But I soon learned why. I was to be more thoroughly examined than I could ever have imagined, even in our techno-modernized world. There were, of course, the obligatory medical and psychological examinations, but the bulk of the time would involve a physical conditioning program that was specifically tailored to my particular needs as dictated by the results of my examinations throughout the testing. The first day was taken up by a full physical examination. Several things about it seemed strange. I could not understand why they had to scrape the inside of my mouth for cell samples. The hemorrhoid check seemed unusually lengthy. And I'd swear that Doctor left something in there! There were also several injections that did not seem called for. Then I was taken to a 'conditioning session' for a physical workout that lasted two hours, and left me totally exhausted. Back at our apartment, Sue was putting a large bundle of clothes away in the smaller bedroom. She was wearing an attractive, sexy outfit and was in a very catty mood. She was all sex as she showed me some of the apparel she had acquired. It was not very long before she was teasing to get me hot, which did not take much effort, despite my recent physical exertion. When I was ready, Sue was racing me for the bed where it was better and she was hotter than ever before. Next morning Nancy met me back at the Test Center. We started with a series of standard psychological tests and the morning passed quickly. They were all business, very thorough and professional, with only one break before lunch. Finally, Nancy and I went to eat together in a large cafeteria. As we got our food and sat down, I looked around. The only men I saw among the throng were guys from my transport group. "Where are all the Zetan men?" I asked Nancy. "Most work in the upper government, on the farms, or are assigned to the frontier," she explained. "Some are involved in the heavy labor of construction or manufacturing. There are very few in this center, mostly just medical staffers and doctors." "I thought you were looking for high birth rates? Who do these women get friendly with?" I asked. Nancy smiled. "There are some places for us to socialize with the men in the city. We do get visitors from outside also. Of course, we have you new arrivals too," she added with a knowing grin. I did not have to figure out what that meant. "That sounds almost like a proposition," I observed. "Well, Ray, if you find someone interesting and she is interested as well, then why not be, uh, friendly? In a few days we'll show you a section where the girls are available for your selection whenever you wish. All you have to do is select someone you like and ask her." "That sounds like a man's sexual fantasy," I observed while trying to hide my own anticipation. "But don't the girls get jealous?" Nancy smiled again. "That's part of the education process here. You will both be trained not to be jealous if the other finds a 'friend'. Eventually, you might even enjoy watching each other's activities, especially if Sue's choice was a girl, eh?" I considered her comment. "That could be enjoyable, an aperitif to stimulate my desires. But, I would not like her going to another man." "Most likely she will, eventually," she stated evenly, "and you will have to accept it. But that all comes later. Let's finish our meal. We still have much to do." A routine developed quickly. My schedule was split between analysis, educational training, and physical conditioning. The analysis included a long list of mental studies and mind probes that would supposedly contribute toward getting us each plugged into our own individualized niches in the Zetan social and bureaucratic system. The few educational sessions were only simplified briefings on the history and workings of Zeta IV, but were actually just very well 'engineered' propaganda versions that lacked anything remotely resembling really useful information. There was also some discussion on the selection and care or treatment of women by men. The emphasis was on mutual enjoyment with the desired results being pregnancy. The seemingly unending evaluations and 'training' sessions filled about half of my days with the exercise and conditioning taking another two or three hours. The rest of the day, what little remained, was free for relaxation, entertainment, and friends. About ten days after our arrival, Nancy announced we were going to do something different, and promptly hauled my out for a long walk across the 'campus' to one of the larger buildings. Inside there were scantily clad women everywhere. And I was the only man there! It was a few moments before I even noticed that this was some sort of huge fitness center. There were several exercise areas with mirrored walls, like they use for dance and aerobic instruction, but these were on slightly elevated platforms, and the 'observation' side was a wall of glass. It reminded me of the power-ball arenas back home, with the glass wall there so the audience could watch safely. There was also a large open area that looked like the biggest and best-equipped conditioning center I'd ever seen. "This facility serves several purposes," Nancy explained. "For men, it's a 'browsing' area. For the women it is an exercise and display area, whether they need it or not. You see, the only women who don't use this type of facility already have something going with a man, or are pregnant, or have recently given birth and are nursing mothers. Those who really want to be selected usually use the stages and, as you can see, are somewhat more erotic and suggestive in their workout routines. Those who resist participation have their resistance eliminated." I was shocked but somehow not surprised by this blatant use of women as baby machines against their will. But, having seen the Center's medical facilities close up, I had no doubt they could mind probe and mentally re-program anyone. I knew that Zeta IV was a prison, but it now seemed even more so for the women here. The men seemed to have it made. Here was a world-size harem from which any man could pick and choose his pleasure. I liked it, but then, I was male. "Raymond, dear, why don't you browse about," Nancy suggested. "Huh?" I replied, dumbfounded. The glint in her eye made me realize she was serious. "It?s the way here, and we'd best adapt to it, my dear. Take your time, then go off and have some fun, and come to me when you're done." While Sue and I had a long and intimate relationship, we had never been exclusive. However, being given permission (even encouraged) to have my way with my choice of dozens of appealing women was almost intimidating, even though I?d been a 'player' until Sue and I 'teamed'. Now that pressure was gone, and I was totally relieved. In fact, I'd already been considering some 'diversion', since I'd noticed after our arrival that I seemed to be more capable of prolonged sexual activity. Sue had already commented on how satisfying our lovemaking had been recently, sometimes lasting half the night. And I found myself capable of at least twice a day for a long romp and a quickie once or twice more. Now, suddenly, Nancy was suggesting that I expand my conquest list. So I picked a woman off the dance stage and we were directed to a private room. She was very eager to please me and we were not in a hurry. Well, I decided, if these Zetans wanted me to be fit and healthy, what better way to augment my exercise program. This place became a regular part of my 'routine' as well. I liked to call it the 'Sexercise' facility. We still occasionally saw, and could keep track of our flight group, sort of. One of the women, Barbara, had not been interested in men on the flight, or in rooming with someone. Instead, she had seemed more interested in Sue, but Sue never gave her any encouragement. The few times I saw her during the next three weeks, Barb was very quiet and sullen. She was having nothing to do with men sexually, that was obvious, and she definitely did not want babies. Then she was absent for several days, and when she reappeared one day in the cafeteria, the spectacular changes in her attitude and appearance as she strutted (that's the right word) among the tables was astonishing. Her skin-tight jumpsuit outlined her crotch and almost covered her large breasts (had then been that big before?). She wore makeup when she never had before, and was moving through the tables like liquid fire. As Barb approached I looked around quickly and realized I was the only man in the room. "May I join you?' she purred. She looked me square in the eyes as she licked her ruby lips, then managed to swivel everything while sitting beside me. Every move showed desire, even need, and not just availability. When I suggested a visit to my room she pushed the rest of my lunch aside and grabbed my arm. For someone who had never been remotely interested, it was a wonderful romp. The next day I saw her with one of the other guys and asked Nancy about the obvious change in Barbara's conduct. "The key to high birth rate," she responded, "is having all women who are capable of child bearing wanting sex and children. Barbara probably got a mind plant, along with some critical hormonal and other chemical treatments to?uh, improve her attitude and help her reach her full potential. She will be pregnant soon, if she can be. That's what is done to the standoff types and the lesbians. For them it's forced right away. You can ignore her if you want." "But that seems so cruel," I complained, despite having not ignored her, as Nancy suggested. "She had her chance to choose her boyfriends. She failed to accept anyone, even after the social priorities of our world were thoroughly explained to her. All arriving women are immediately conditioned to eliminate objections to sharing their men, but that did not work on her. Now she has been treated so she'll be in constant heat until she conceives. And after that child, she better be more cooperative or she'll be treated again." I was truly surprised at the lengths to which these people would go to increase their birth rate of Zeta IV. But that was only a minor introduction to what came later. Within a few days my routine was well established: training, evaluations, exercise, and sex, with much emphasis on the latter. I asked myself how long this could last and how long I could keep up the pace, but it was hardly worth worrying about. I was young and male in a fantasy world of pleasure, despite the tests and regimen. After about two months in the Center, we began learning about the various types of work available on Zeta IV. The farming and construction segments were much larger than I had expected. These were needed to support the rapidly expanding population. I'm not very good with statistics, but the birth rate was phenomenal, which was to be expected under the circumstances. While government was fairly extensive, the arts and communications were limited. One day, Sue returned from one of our many routine physicals, greeted me with one of her patented self-satisfied smiles, and promptly announced, "I'm pregnant." My jaw dropped a foot, but I managed to sputter, "?uh, wow, congratulations!" "Thanks ever so much, Ray, my love," she gushed, then declared, ?and it?s ours." I was flabbergasted, and too numb to respond further. ME, a father! The prospect was overwhelming, as she held my hand to her smooth belly. "This is so wonderful, isn't it?" With a mute nod, I realized that I had ignored the obvious: Sue had been conditioned along with all the other women. Before, she had always insisted that she would never be 'enslaved' by her plumbing, and had even taken treatments to suppress ovulation. She hadn't had menses in all the time we'd been together. Now, suddenly, she's gushing about motherhood! This wasn't the Sue I'd known. And it got better (or worse, depending on the interpretation). That same afternoon at the 'Sexercise' center, Alice, one of my regular 'consorts,' also proclaimed herself with child! Over the next few days other men from my 'flight' were showing up with big smiles to announce the pregnancy of their girl friends. We were rapidly becoming a very prolifically potent group. Even some of the women from the nearby exercise areas who had 'seen' several of us were pregnant. Before long, the thirteen men from our group were averaging better than one 'announcement' per day. As our second month ended our routine of frequent sex was changed only with regard to the ladies we were seeing. As each pregnancy was verified the prospective women would cease their routines at the facilities, but the numbers there never seemed to diminish. Those expectant mothers, who didn't have a permanent arrangement with one of the men, were moved into a special wing of our 'dorm' where we could still easily stay in touch, including Nancy, yet another on MY 'tally' sheet. When our 125th day on Zeta IV arrived, every man was nervous. It was the last entry on our Indoctrination schedules, circled in bold red bands and marked SPECIAL EVENT. We were expecting to receive our permanent residence and career assignments along with work location information, etc. Despite the advantages of our stay so far, we were generally anxious to receive residency status and take our places in Zetan society. Sue was gone before I rose, so for the first time since our arrival, I went to breakfast alone. Oddly, there were no women there, only us thirteen men. We ate mostly in nervous silence, but the situation was too unusual to ignore. Suddenly the doors burst open and a large group of very familiar females rushed us. We were separated and each of us was escorted to a different area of the complex. Sue and Nancy flanked me, each firmly grasping my arms, as we rushed through empty corridors. I was thoroughly lost when we entered a small chamber that contained only an overstuffed chair, and a vid screen above a large mirror on the wall facing the chair. The floor was thinly carpeted and appeared well used. Nancy sat me in the big chair, which turned out to be quite comfortable. Then she reached behind the chair and there was a clank of servos as a silver mesh hood-like contraption extended from behind a panel in the wall, trailing a massive bundle of cables behind it. With increasing nervousness, I watched the silvery helmet move into position above my head. She did something else and there was a low whirring sound as the chair stretched out, bringing my feet up. Meanwhile, Sue was clamping my wrists to the armrests with wide leather straps, then both ankles. As I calmly watched her shackle me, it seemed strange that I was not agitated enough to complain. But I just couldn't seem to get worried or concerned, as she pulled the helmet down onto my head and secured the chinstrap. Nancy reached behind me and produced a small cutter. (Now that got me worried!) Turning to me with a slight smile, she systematically deprived me of my clothes. In seconds a pile of mangled rags that had been my favorite blue jumpsuit had been deposited on the floor. When I was completely naked I finally got nervous enough to begin straining at my bonds, with no effect, of course. I could still raise my hips, but didn't dare move too much while that cutter was so close. "Relax, my love," Sue insisted, firmly holding me back into the chair while Nancy secured yet another wide strap across my waist. Now I really couldn't move. "We love you," they proclaimed almost together, and proved it with long sweet lingering kisses. Then they abruptly turned and left, the door sealing between us. "Greetings, Gentlemen!" I jumped at the unexpected sound of a distinctively male voice that sounded vaguely familiar. The vidscreen above the mirror had flared to life, revealing that same man-image that had originally greeted us. "I'm sure that you have enjoyed these past weeks with us. We have been particularly gratified by your enthusiastic support of our unique social system. In fact, your exceptional successes have insured substantial advances toward our population goals. Our congratulations and gratitude go out to each of you. "Now it is time for you to make an even greater contribution to the advancement of Zeta IV. When you leave this chamber today you will assume a more meaningful role in Zetan society, one of greater honor and fulfillment than you could ever have hoped for elsewhere. From this day forward you will join the rest of us in contributing to the society that we all serve." 'Good,' I thought. 'Now I'll finally get into the system. OK, fella, what will I be? Farmer? Mechanic? Bureaucrat? WHAT?' The mystery man continued. "Gentlemen, our need to rapidly expand our population is seriously hampered by the two most common means of growth; reproduction and immigration, both of which are untenably slow and hard to control. "Of course, reproduction is limited by the slow workings of nature, since a woman can reproduce only about once per year. This makes pregnancy and weaning a lengthy process, which we have been unable to successfully accelerate. Conversely, a potent man can impregnate many women in that same year's time. Given these undeniable facts, our society has been structured to maximize the results. The ideal male-to-female ratio for achieving our population goal has been established, and each male citizen is allowed to support and breed with as many women as is economically feasible, until he achieves that ratio within his household. "Immigration is restricted to the undesirables and non-violent criminals whom The System sees fit to provide. While the numbers are significant, the gender ratio is absolutely the reverse of our needs, as was your group, Gentlemen." "Consequently, each newly arrived male is given a limited indoctrination, along with a reasonable amount of time for conditioning, and extensive opportunities to sire children, which you each have done with admirable results. However, Zeta IV still has a respectable number of established males who are still building their households. "This brings us to your current circumstance. Despite the restrictions of nature that we've discussed already, medical science is constantly making phenomenal advances. And since penal institutions have traditionally been venues for human studies, Zeta IV has become perfect laboratory. Thus, we are the beneficiaries of some spectacular processes, and their results. "You have demonstrated your willingness to participate in our system. Now, you will join Zetan society in the only situation available to immigrants of either gender. You are being given the further opportunity to become a MOTHER. That's right, Gentlemen, you will rest soon, and when you awake you will be FEMALE!" I felt myself rapidly going into psychic shock. Even though my mind saw the logic of his words, my maleness was desperately seeking escape. I screamed uncontrollably, savagely jerking my arms and legs, straining at my bonds. My ankles and wrists were soon torn and bleeding. The image remained silent for several minutes, obviously allowing us to react to his announcement. "Your reactions are typical, Gentlemen, but entirely futile. Besides, you have no choice. You are neither the first, nor will you be the last subjects of this process. You will soon be a female. You are convicted felons, so consider this your punishment, if you must. In time, however, you will know otherwise. "During your indoctrination period our expert medical technicians developed a genetic profile of the woman you would have become had you been born female. Using a means that will never be revealed to you, your body will be reconstructed to match your own individualized female genetic profile. "To repeat what you were told when you arrived, you will merge smoothly into Zetan society, no matter what. If you adapt voluntarily, and have sufficient talent and desire, the rewards are great. Eventually, you could even petition for restoration of your maleness, but only after a minimum of five years and bearing at least three healthy children. So there is a chance, though, only about one in twenty ever bother. "You will leave this facility with the status of Zetan citizen, with a clean slate. But be warned -- any violation of our laws and customs by either sex earns the perpetrator a lifetime of pregnancies and wet- nursing. They are forever prisoners of their ultra-feminine bodies, hormones, and female plumbing, while always completely aware of who they were, what they are, and what they will always be. So, gentlemen, law- abiding behavior is in your own best interest, wouldn't you agree?" My increasing state of shock at this presentation was enough to leave me frozen in my shackles, unmoving and silent, my brain spinning until I was numb. "What you might do now, gentlemen, is take one last look at yourself. When next you observe similar anatomy, its owner will probably be as eager to use it on you as you have used yours since your arrival." The vid image smiled broadly. "Good luck, ladies! Enjoy the new you!" The screen blanked out. The sudden change of pronouns was calculated to get a response and I reacted despite myself. I involuntarily stared down and watched my pecker stiffen. 'Jeez,' I thought, 'what a time for that to happen! I can't lose that now! It's been too much fun lately.' But I could barely manage to struggle while the lights were dimming. No! I was fading out. A low motorized humming sound filled my ears and a mild vibration ran the length of the chair beneath my body. Despite the decreasing awareness, my senses were still strong enough to feel my anatomy moving, shifting. My scalp itched and something was tugging on my hair under that silver hood. A pressure was squeezing my waist and sides. The chair arms seemed to slide beneath my arms, as did the back against my shoulders. There was a sharp twinge up my spine and neck, then across my skull. Pressure gripped my midsection, an expanding feeling bloated my hips, buttocks and thighs, followed by a sharp twing in my manhood and crotch that became a definite pressure up between my legs. A needle-like sharpness centered in my nipples as they were pushed outward atop fleshy weights that pulled on my chest. There were deep spasms in my fingers, hands, elbows, knees, and feet. Then, for a while, everything seemed to float. Full consciousness slowly returned. As I came slowly awake, a raspy breathing (my own) filled my ears. The straps still secured my wrists, ankles, and waist, but the helmet was gone and I was positioned differently. The chair had been raised to a semi-reclining position. I was facing a nude woman, held in her seat by similar bindings, legs slightly apart. Thick brunette tresses flowed profusely over her shoulders, halfway to her waist. Her smooth curvaceous hourglass figure was perfect, with large firm breasts, narrow waist, wide hips and long straight legs. She was beautiful! She gazed glassily at me as I stared at her slightly exposed womanhood. Oh, My God! The hair tickled my shoulders and I knew with a dreadful erotic horror that she was my mirrored reflection. The face was mostly my own with a smooth creamy complexion, higher cheekbones, pencil-thin brows, fuller lips, and trimmed nose. The weight of those dense auburn curls pulled firmly at my scalp. A quick headshake tossed the long waves across my shoulders and brushed the sensitive new tips of the mountainous flesh that now adorned my chest. Errant strands caught in my lashes and mouth. From my angle, those quivering twin masses of sensitive doughy flesh blow my chin were massive, and definitely heavy. The nipples were thimble- sized nubs in the center of large dark areola. At that angle the fleshy masses pressed heavily on my ribs while also pulling at my chest muscles. With my wrists still secured, my arms were firmly secured to my sides, which pushed those twin towers into a cavernous cleavage that was hard to see past. Relating the image's exposed posture to my own, however unfamiliar, I tried to close my legs, but with little effect. Then, I thought, ?Who would see?? Curious, I spread my knees to get a better look. My movements jostled my breasts a bit, but it wasn't particularly uncomfortable, maybe even almost erotic. I was just beginning to make a genuine effort at dealing with the indisputable fact that I was that woman when I heard a click indicating that someone was at the door. To my dismay, Nancy and Sue had returned, and resumed their previous positions at either side of me. I was appalled and incredibly embarrassed as their gazes raked over my new contours. I envied them their clothing, while I lay/sat there with all that smooth bulbous flesh exposed. "Good afternoon, dear," they said in unison. Then each of them leaned forward and kissed me deeply. They seemed no less passionate than before, but it certainly felt different. Then I realized that the fleshiness of my new lips was the reason. "No screams or curses?" Nancy asked. I shook my head mutely. "That's good. You'll be living with that gorgeous new body, so it?s best that you accept it." She kissed me again. I suppose I could have spoken, but nothing I had to say would have made any difference. I just did not want to talk just then for fear I would have just screamed hysterically and made a genuine ass of myself. Since I knew that would do little or no good, I just kept quiet, waiting, in mild shock I'm sure. "Time to find out how this all feels," Sue smiled while firmly grasping the nearest of my corpulent breasts. I looked down in amazement at the sense of touch so distant from my chest, yet incredibly acute and real. I glanced at the mirror to see what was happening, then just closed my eyes and felt! She kneaded gently at the soft sensitive flesh, while Nancy did the same to the other orb. I might have asked them to stop, but I'd barely separated my lips when Sue leaned over and cut off my protest by stuffing my mouth with her tongue. As the kiss and manipulations continued, I could feel my nipples stiffen into twin spokes of throbbing excitement. Tingly warmth radiated through both breasts then down through my lower belly until it hit my groin with a blast. I pushed toward them. I couldn't help myself. A feathery touch on my lower belly made me to buck spasmodically. The caress moved lower, down the inside of my thigh, then back and down the other side. "Oh God, girls, what are you trying to do to me?" I gasped when Nancy broke the kiss. The high alto softness that my throat produced was yet another shocking proof of what I'd become. They had changed that too, of course. I could feel my hips moving but I had no control. As the hand brushed up my thigh, my hips pushed up to make contact. "We want you to know what you have," Sue whispered. "Want something?" she asked as my hips came up again. "Stop teasing me," my feminized voice pleaded. "Please, this is cruel." Sue grinned. "I can remember you making me beg on more than one occasion, dear." She pinched a turgid nipple, making me shudder with excitement. "Oh, God," I squirmed. "Do you want me to beg?" Instead of answering, Sue kissed me, sliding her hand up, finally making full contact with my new womanhood. Two fingers probed gently then slipped inside while the thumb slid along the gash to my new clit. A little massage was all I needed to finally achieve the orgasm of my dreams, total and all consuming. When I came back down, the mirror told the story. Oh, woman! You have no control! The girls gave me a few moments to rest, but I still felt like an over- used rag when they finally released the straps. Helping me up onto shaky legs, they wrapped me in a filmy pink robe that didn't really cover much. My bare feet were thrust into a pair of pink high-heeled open-toed slippers that seemed even smaller than the feet they housed. Whatever had generated these unbelievably radical changes in my body had been very thorough. I was dumbfounded, limp and weak, unable to move on my own, my strength drained away. Exhausted, unable to resist, Sue and Nancy held my arms and gently but firmly guided me toward the door on my wobbly unstable legs. "We'll take you to your new quarters," Sue said. Nancy added, "Tomorrow you will start the formal education that will help you assimilate into your new life as a Zetan woman. You'll soon get a job assignment, and opportunities to meet some men. You have much to learn, you know." 'No kidding,' I thought. 'That's the understatement of the century!' While repulsed by the prospects of dealing with men in my new incarnation, the sudden flash of my future made me tingle again. How unsettling! Meanwhile, my feet were trying to tip sideways atop those high-heeled slippers. Without the stability of my escorts' secure grips, I would have sprained or even broken both ankles when I stepped wrong and a needle- pointed heel slipped. Even more unnerving was the constant jostling of my unfettered breasts with every step as we made our way yet again through long passageways. Then there was the distraction of the robes flimsy material rubbing against my bouncing nipples. I tried to ignore those awkward but erogenous sensations by focusing on remaining upright without help while navigating in those damnable heels. It took concentration at first, but despite the bounding distractions below my chin, walking became easier when I realized that my new anatomy required wholesale changes in my posture and gait. Most obvious was the lowered center of gravity, with bulbous hips that swayed so much it felt like there was a pivot point just below my navel. The vacancy between my legs and my thickened thighs added yet another dimension to the design of my walk. This new configuration forced me to maintain balance by placing each foot almost directly in front of the other. A much shorter step was also needed, even though that mirror had shown my legs to be incredibly long and shapely. Complicating the process were my feet being forced into a toe-pointing arch by the tall heels that made it feel like my ankles were about to snap. It was a long, painful, and unbalanced stroll while I learned that the toe had to touch first, which was totally opposite to my old male stride, and forced my diminutive feet into significant arches, a bit like a ballerina. The ankle was also had to be held straight so the tiny spiked heel would come down squarely. Sue and Nancy were gradually removing their support as I got all this figured out, and could finally walk without too much wobbling. But my satisfaction was scuttled by mortification when we rounded a corner and I noticed my undeniable reflection in a polished metal door. I was the only one in heels, and was prancing along in a short mincing motion that was making my anatomy swivel and bounce all too sensuously. I was also regaining some of my energy, though it was all too obvious that most of my physical strength had been sacrificed to the process that produced my new form. That's when I realized that the alterations engineered upon my person were far more thorough than I had ever imagined, though the clues had been there. I was looking slightly up into Nancy's eyes, when before at 5'6" she had barely reached the shoulders of my 6'4". And I was generally smaller than her though slightly taller and more filled out than diminutive Sue's 5'2". These observations were made even more significant when I observed that I was trying to balance on high-heels when both of my companions were wearing simple flat strappy sandals. After making some quick comparisons, it appeared I been divested of over 9 inches, along with a whopping 50 pounds. Wearing nothing but the robe, it was impossible to ignore the undulations of my altered anatomy. Each footfall caused my massive breasts to bounce like thick gelatin, tugging against my chest and swaying provocatively. The sensation was uncomfortably alien yet vaguely erotic. With ponderous mammaries pulling at my chest and my legs unimpeded by genitals, I was continually reminded that I was undeniably female. All those strange sensations were forcing me to deal with the fact that the Zetans had transexed my handsome and virile manhood into a substantially endowed and (per their claim) fully functional female with childbearing potential! Sue interrupted my drowning thoughts. "What name do you like, dear? Ray doesn't seem very appropriate for you now with that body." "Uh?," I stammered. "I don't know. A different name never occurred to me. I thought I'd always have my male body. God! Now, along with all this I have to decide on a girl's name." The soft lilting tone of my own voice was another stark reminder of my new reality. "Well, we won't rush you," Nancy said, "but if you haven't decided by tomorrow morning, we'll pick a name for you. You will need it before you start learning how to care for that beautiful new body of yours. It requires special and very careful maintenance if you're to attract a mate and to maintain the good breeding condition that's expected of all us Zetan woman." She pointedly stroked her still trim belly. By then we had exited that huge building, and entered an adjacent residential area. Surprisingly, there was no one about, but I was still highly embarrassed by my attire, or lack thereof. Thankfully, we were soon approaching a small cottage, where Sue opened the door and gestured that I go inside. "This is your new residence, dear," Nancy declared. It was tastefully decorated with lace curtains, flowery wallpaper, and comfortable furnishings. There was a tiny sitting room, and a large full- services bathroom. The huge bedroom contained a large bed, a full-length mirror on one wall, a mirrored vanity, a wide 6-drawer dresser, and a walk-in wardrobe. The latter two were filled with feminine finery, and the whole screamed that a very feminine woman lived there. The biggest shock was the small room off to one side that by its contents was to be a nursery! "There is no cooking in the ladies' residences," Nancy declared. "You will eat in the main dining room with the other women, along with the various men who join us on occasion, as you well know. "Right now, Sue and I will help you get dressed." "Now? What will I wear? There?s no way I?m wearing any of those women's clothes, regardless of what they?ve done to my body!? I exclaimed in a bravely futile fit of defiance that got little help the high squeaky voice emanating from my own throat. ?Besides, everything is different and I don't know how to put them on." Sue chuckled. "You were always pretty good at taking them off of us," she teased. "But first you have to start with a bath. Come on, I'll help you while Nancy gets things ready here." She grabbed my hand and I was led toward the bathroom. While the large tub filled with steaming water, she added liberal doses of scented bath oil. Within moments the translucent robe and slippers were discarded, and my nakedness was goaded into the frothy aromatic tub. I was always a dedicated shower guy, with a healthy belief in the old adage, ?in a tub the toe dirt goes to the head, in a shower the head dirt goes down the drain?. Besides, as a lifetime male I don?t recall ever even considering taking a bubble bath. Yet, by the time I'd settled into that warm fragrant water I was hooked. It felt wonderful, despite the ultra-feminine odor that was permeating my skin. With a thick covering of suds, and the water buoying up my rather hefty breastworks, it almost made me feel like my old self. Except that water was flowing between my legs all too freely, and my long hair was getting soaking wet. However, even with a huge sponge and perfumed soap nearby, I cringed at the prospect of washing myself. It would have been tantamount to acknowledging my femaleness. Besides, I was terrified that it would feel even better than just lying there. Meanwhile Sue had reached into the medicine cabinet and produced an epi- razor. "What's that for?" I moaned. "I don't have to shave anymore!" "Silly," she giggled. "Your face is smooth now, but you have other places that need to be cleaned up occasionally so you will look nice. Now, lift your arms. Those lovely legs are next." "But, I..." was my nervous response. What was next? It was apparent that Sue and Nancy had planned all this for me. Their preparations were too smooth, too calm. Nancy certainly had known all along what my fate would be, and Sue must have known almost from our arrival. 'Was that why she had been so quiet after the women had been taken off alone on that first day?' I wondered, then cringed when that highly efficient instrument hummed to life, knowing it was impossible to avoid. Anyway, here I was now, sticking my arms and legs in the air to get them depilated smooth by a process that was guaranteed to last at least a month. (Sue had used it often enough when we were together that I knew the capability of that little device.) After she'd done my feet and legs up passed the knees, I had to stand for a moment while, to my utter embarrassing, she proceeded to strip away all but a tiny patch above my crotch. The device slid gently across my skin, and its passing was barely noticeable even in the most sensitive areas of my newly flattened crotch, but the results were nothing short of incredible. Even the thickest bush (pits and crotch) simply vanished without a trace. I'd used a similar version of the apparatus for my beard, but never with these results. Only smooth unblemished skin was left in its wake, with not a sign of anything remotely resembling hair or even the slightest hint of stubble. Nancy arrived when the shaving was almost complete, and together they helped me out of the warm bubbly tub, wrapping me in a large fluffy towel that they tucked together high above my breasts. It felt odd, and all too feminine. But I was also oddly surprised that they hadn't made me wash myself, not even my hair. I was escorted into the bedroom and seated at the vanity with my back to the mirror. Nancy proceeded to blow-dry my long flowing hair, then brushed out the tangles, and used a small pair of scissors to trim some damp frayed ends and the bangs. Sue's attention to my eyebrows was definitely the least pleasant of their activities though. The minor discomfort of getting my brows 'thinned' with common tweezers was more than enough to make my eyes water. "Close your eyes," Sue ordered as she lightly covered my face with a pale foundation makeup. Then the painting really began: two tones of blue eye shadows, liberal coats of mascara on my lashes, black eye-liner, and my plucked-thin brows were darkened. Then came a rich scarlet lipstick and rose pink blusher highlighted my very high cheekbones. Meanwhile, Nancy had finished messing with my hair, leaving the thick waves flowing smoothly over my shoulders and back. She asked me to stand and pulled the towel from me. I stood there self-consciously naked with them both staring at me. Was that admiration in their eyes? Nancy held up a lacy beige brassiere and slipped the straps up my slack arms, adjusted them, and clasped the back. She positioned the demi-cups, which contained less than half of their voluminous contents with half- moons of the areola exposed. The band was only snug and stretched with my movements and breathing, but the emotional sense of its constricting presence was almost overwhelming. Unfortunately, the contraption flexed comfortably when my stressed breathing got deep and shallow. I could actually feel my breasts pushing against the confinement of those large cups. Yet this same feeling was strangely pleasant too, as the sudden containment and control of those previously unencumbered masses of wobbling flab offered a sense of incredible relief. Not to mention the smooth cups against my large breasts and super-sensitive nipples was a new feeling, and equally pleasant. There was an additional realization that the bra was all too effectively performing its designated function by pushing those already substantial twin towers up and together into massive dual promontories of molded exposed flesh, creating a lavish cleavage. I stepped into the matching beige bikini briefs so that Sue could slide the sheer satiny material up my creamy smooth legs. The high-cut design gripped my flared hips below my narrowed waist much higher than I'd ever worn anything before. But the most profound effect was the full contact of that thin fabric against my flattened crotch as a vivid reminder of my altered form. Nancy produced a bundle of pink silk and looped it over my head, then stuck my slim arms through it. Sue secured the back closure seam and the fabric pulled snugly into almost a second skin from bust to waist, then flared slightly over my hips into a simple skirt that almost covered most of my thick thighs. Dear God, I was wearing a dress! Every movement caused the skirt to tickle my sensitive thighs when it brushed against my smooth bare skin, and the hem whispered well above my knees. Though the deeply scooped bodice made a valiant effort to actually cover the bra, its own snug fit tended to push even more flesh into view, resulting in even greater exposure of my breastworks to view. Sue slipped my feet into shiny black medium-heel pumps that felt high, but not as bad as those slippers. Nancy selected a large bottle and I was liberally doused with the pungency of a very feminine perfume. Finally, I was allowed to step in front of the full-length mirror. I gasped, dumbfounded at the image of 'the new me'. I was beautiful! The tight dress covered all the essential parts, but it was almost worse than being naked. Every voluptuous detail of my reconstructed form was sexily exposed. Beneath the bra and dress, 'her' fat brown nipples were outlined prominently. The makeup was perfect, highlighting high cheekbones and big blue eyes. Soft waves of red-brown hair flowed generously over her shoulders with strands brushing the copious bosom. I got horny while staring dumbstruck at that mirror. The sensations pouring in from my own body even added to the warm glow that was rapidly building in my libido, as soft wispy textures caressed my smooth curves. My breasts seemed enormous, and felt like they stuck out so far they' enter a room two minutes before my nose would. The nipples were suddenly hard knobs that were rapidly becoming two engorged points of growing tension pressing against the encasing material. My lower belly tingled and my crotch felt warm. Impossibly, it felt like I was getting a hardon, until I realized that it must be my clit. Added to that was a totally alien sense of dampness just below and between my legs. So that's what a woman feels when she's excited? Though there were differences, I certainly understand the emotions. But the physical sensations were infinitely more widespread and admittedly pretty fantastic! How ironic, I mused, to be getting this turned on just looking at my own reflection! My 'friends' allowed me a few moments before they proposed that we adjourn to the dining room for supper. "Uh, l..l..like this?" I stammered. "Of course, silly," Nancy retorted. "You're gorgeous. Besides, aren't you hungry? You haven't eaten since breakfast and its dinnertime already. Your 'modifications' have consumed a whole day, so how about consuming some healthy vittles with us!" I suddenly realized I was famished. So we went to supper together. After only a few minutes I found that I managing the heels a bit more easily, though the slightly lower heels helped my relearned manner of walking. You probably could have followed us simply by sniffing the cloud of fragrant mist I was probably leaving in our wake. The sliding whispery swish of the skirt against my smooth calves was almost a sexual experience in itself. Also, while there was still a jostling tug with every footfall, the bra cups provided a security and control that made walking much more comfortable. When we entered the cafeteria, I felt very self-conscious, expecting everyone to point and laugh at that crazy guy trying to look like a woman. While my discomfort would certainly have been worse if there had been any men present, the looks of those women were more calculating and assessing than I was used to. Once we had collected our meals and settled at a table, no one paid us any attention. Given all the women present, only an occasional whispered conversation or clink of silverware or dishes disturbed a peculiar silence that permeated the spacious hall with a melancholy gloom. Then with a wince I noticed something else. At each occupied table there were either two or three women and, without exception, one was obviously very nervous, quiet and fidgety. Most of the latter were not eating, and were generally acting like frightened rabbits. To help get over my own nervousness I revived my old predatory habit that I'd used when 'casing a mark' -- I watched some of those "nervous Nellies" more closely. At the table next to us sat a tiny buxom redhead, head bowed, hands in her lap, silently staring at her plate with occasional quick glances about her. Occasionally she would take any irritable swipe at the long lush curls that tended to fall in her face. The odd shade of her green eyes was so unique that I knew exactly instantly she was, or had been: Jason Dartol! ?JD?, as he insisted on being called, was a heavy muscled Irishman from Old Terra, sentenced for beating a prostitute and various other anti-female behaviors. The self-appointed stud of our group, Jason fancied his 'tool' to be God's gift to women, said so often, and generally made himself obnoxious by attempting to backup his blustering with action. Within days of our departure for Zeta IV, he tried, in rapid succession, to bed most of the gals in our group. It was rumored that, on several occasions, he had even resorted to force, though unsuccessfully. That's how we all learned the consequences for violating the rule forbidding sex of any kind while in-transit. We had begun calling him 'Greenie' just to antagonize him, knowing he couldn't retaliate. Eventually, he'd gotten so belligerent that the captain had to isolate him to keep someone from getting killed, not necessarily Jason, either. We'd never seen him again, not even after our arrival. Now, looking into those beautiful green eyes, I saw Jason's terrified soul looking out, or was it Jasonette now? Or Janette? I immediately began searching the other faces, and found several who I unmistakably identified as fellow 'inductees.' Their demeanors ran the gamut, from timid embarrassment like JD, to outright giddiness. I couldn?t decide who that latter gal had been, but she was certainly enjoying herself. I surmised that she had been one of those rare men who would rather have been women. At least that was the conclusion of my overactive imagination. Regardless, my observations were a welcome distraction that allowed me, for a short time at least, to avoid dealing with my own reincarnation, especially when I had to adjust my posture to avoid getting food all over my protruding breastworks. The meal was delicious, as usual, but I consumed far less than I was accustomed to eating, though probably more that most of my 'colleagues'. It was quite late when we returned to my new residence, and I was exhausted. With the ladies urging me along by suggestions and directions instead of hands-on assistance, I eventually freed myself from the dress, and kicked off the shoes. It felt odd to finally be walking flat-footed. Still wearing the bra and panties, I was instructed on the need to scrub off the makeup before bed. During my preparations they explained that I was scheduled to start a new series of courses the next day and they promised to be back early in the morning to help me prepare. The regimen was supposed to make me comfortable with dresses, hair care, makeup, and feminine hygiene. Nancy was showing me how to use an elastic bandeau to hold the hair out of my face, while Sue produced a long transparent blue nylon nightgown. "Lose the undies," she ordered. "This has built-in cups for support, and matching panties." I'd noticed, but it was almost transparent, like wearing a spider's web! After they left, I lay awake, trying to come to terms with my female body, stroking each breast and fat brown nipple, slowly exploring the plumbing between my legs. God, it felt good. For a long time I lay thinking, wondering. What will it be like as a woman? Would I enjoy being 'with a man'? Could I do IT? What would it feel like having one of those inside me? Could I stand it? Would I like it? I thought again about how my body looked in that mirror, how I felt, and the ways my body reacted. It was a shock to know that men would like what they saw and want it. I awoke the next morning to the click of the door. True to their promise, Sue and Nancy were back to help me get ready for 'school.' Still half asleep, I went to use the bathroom. The sheer negligee and nothing to aim woke me abruptly when I had to sit to pee. After washing my hands I splashed my face with cold water, trying to clear the sleep from my eyes and brain. The weight of my hair pulled at my scalp and fell about my face, breasts full and heavy, empty crotch, broad hips and pinched waist. God! It wasn't a dream! It really happened! I stared at the soft image of my face in the small mirror above the sink, my mind again swimming through all the turmoil of yesterday's events. The numbness of the initial shock back full force. Sue came in, saw my terror and confusion, and took me into her arms. "Oh, baby, you really are having a hard time dealing with your new self, aren't you?" "Good Lord, Sue!" I sobbed. "What did you expect? I come here to a prison that appears to be a man's erotic fantasy come true, and I've had it my own way since. Now, I'm part of the fantasy. Oh, dear God," I cried. "What do I do now?" "What you do is survive," Nancy said firmly from the door. "I did." I stared into her eyes in shock and disbelief, then to her slightly swollen belly where our child grew. "Damn, Nancy! Why didn't you tell me about this part of Zeta? Why did I have to learn about it THIS way?" "You know the answer as well as I do, Ray," she answered. "This is, after all, a prison colony. We have, so far, done a very good job of hiding the details and methods of our rapid population growth. Besides, what would you have done if you had known beforehand that a sentence to Zeta IV meant you would become as you are now?" I tried to answer but was stopped short by the look of anger showing in her face, and the beet-red flush of her cheeks. Sue slowly guided me unresisting to the bedroom where I sat at the dressing table while Nancy continued. "Most men, with only a few rare exceptions, would rather die than be female. I know, Ray. Remember too, that many native Zetan women were men once, myself included." I stared in amazement at her beautiful face, then again at the curve of her expanding stomach. She didn't seem to notice. "Like your group of prisoners, the vast majority of convicts sent here are men. Sue is one of the rare ones. So don't be feeling too sorry for yourself. Just keep reminding yourself that many of the women around you are just like you. OK?" I nodded sheepishly "Good. Now, let's get you ready." "Wait, please," I Insisted. "Will you at least answer a couple of questions for me while you're in such a talkative mood?" Nancy grinned, her anger suddenly gone. "Sure, if I can. There's nothing to hide now since you're through the toughest part." "Was that guy right? Can I get my male body back?" "Absolutely, everything he told you is true. But, you recall, he also said you must stay female for a minimum of five years and bear at least three healthy children to qualify for The Reversal process. And the more children a person has the more likely 'her' petition is granted. The entire society is geared to our population's rapid expansion and the more you contribute to that goal the greater is your reward. If the reward you wish is to regain your manhood then you must do everything within your power to achieve it. I'm not saying it would be easy but it is certainly possible. I've known a couple of men who have come full circle, but most either remain female or ..." She stopped, leaving the last unspoken. I understood instantly what happened to those men who were unable to cope with womanhood. But death or insanity would be a coward's way of dealing with a hopeless situation. I was no coward and I knew it. So I needed to adapt and endure. But it would mean dealing with my new womanhood. "How do they do it, this incredible transexing? Is it a machine, a drug, what?" "I honestly don't know, but it dates back to about the Year 40 or 41, Zetan years, of course. There was a high-tech medical research team working on mechanical means of mind control. They came up with what they called 'truth machines', but before long they found that they could not only probe and alter brain patterns with their apparatus, they could alter the genetic code itself. Consequently they developed the Change Machine which the political bosses quickly took control of when they saw its potential for controlling the masses and maintaining their version of the status quo. "The transformation is extremely rapid when you consider the weight loss or gain required. Not only do you change sex, but also size, structure, mass, and weight are all altered drastically, as well you know." She paused to catch a breath. "And did you notice how you relaxed once the hood was in place?" I nodded slowly. "Over the years they've perfected the process to a fine art. Anything else?" "I guess not, for now. So what's next?" I asked them both. "You've got to learn some of the basics as quickly as possible," Sue explained. For the next hour they gui