Pioneers part 10 of 15
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Pioneers, Part 9 Of 15 free porn video
=== Trust Machines: Pioneers ===
part 9 of 15
by Trismegistus Shandy
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This story is set in dkfenger's Trust Machines universe. It's a prequel to
his stories, however, and I've written it to stand alone for readers who
haven't read them.
https://www.deviantart.com/trust-machines/
Thanks to dkfenger, clancy688, MrSimple, Karantela, Icaria, and JAK for
feedback on earlier drafts.
This story is released under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-
Share Alike 3.0 United States License.
-----
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When I walked into homeroom Monday morning, Ms. Buckley said, "Meredith,
Ms. Novacek wants to talk to you before first period. You're not
in trouble," she added hastily. "I think she wanted to ask if you'd
volunteer for something."
"Okay, sure," I said, and a few minutes later I was sitting down in
Ms. Novacek's office.
"I suppose you might have heard something about the school board's
discussion of the new policy on the transformation booths?" she asked.
"No, not really. What are they leaning toward?" I felt apprehensive,
wondering if they might punish me, Andrew, and a lot of other kids for
coming to school in the "wrong" bodies.
"They're leaning toward some pretty strong restrictions," she said,
"but they're willing to consider reasonable exceptions. They meet on
Thursday nights, and this Thursday they'll be taking public comment
on the policy before finalizing it. I thought you and certain other
students who've benefited from them a lot would like to know about it
so you can tell the school board about your experiences."
"I'd like to," I said, "but I don't know if Mom and Dad will let me go."
"If they'll let you go, but aren't willing or able to give you a ride,
I can put you in touch with some people who are carpooling to the meeting.
Do you know Ms. Hodge?"
"I've heard of her -- my brother Caleb had her for Geometry."
"Well, she's going to the meeting -- she and her husband used the
transformation booth to make each other younger and cure her diabetes
and his lower back pain. And she's offered transportation for students
or other staff that might need rides -- I know of at least one other
student who's taken her up on it, whose mother works evening shift."
"Thanks. Should I go talk to her in person, then? Where's her
classroom?"
"Room 187 -- and here's her phone number and email address, as I expect
your parents will want to talk to her, as well."
"Thanks."
I went by room 187 later in the morning; it was conveniently on the way
from Biology to American Literature. There was a woman who looked like
she was in her mid-twenties sitting at the desk, working on a laptop;
she glanced up as I entered.
"Hi, are you Ms. Hodge?"
"Yes. Are you a new student, or...?"
"No. I'm Meredith Ramsey -- Ms. Novacek said to talk to you about a
ride to the school board meeting. I don't know yet if Mom and Dad will
let me go, or if they'll be willing to drive me there themselves, yet,
but I'll talk to them this afternoon and let you know tomorrow if I'll
be riding with you."
"Okay. Did Ms. Novacek give you my phone number and so forth?"
"Yeah, I've got it."
"All right. Have your parents call me if they've got any questions.
May I ask what you used the Venn machine for?"
"I'm transgender."
"Ah, I see. Congratulations on your new body. I'm pretty happy about
mine, but I'm sure you must be absolutely ecstatic."
"Yeah, it's pretty awesome," I said, breaking out into a grin. "Well,
I need to get to my next class. Thanks."
Just after American Literature, I went to the office and waited for Mom
to pick me up, which she did about fifteen minutes later. On the way
to the counselor's office, I told Mom what Ms. Novacek and Ms. Hodge
had said about the school board meeting and the new Venn machine policy.
She was quiet for a few moments, and then said: "I'm glad you're getting
engaged politically, even if I may not agree with the political views
you're planning to express to the school board. I... your dad and I
haven't been as politically active since Caleb was born as we used to be,
and I've worried sometimes that we're not setting a good example for you."
"You're still more aware of what's going on than most people," I pointed
out. I remembered them taking us with them to the polls when we were
little, and explaining democracy and elections to us on a child's level
before we learned anything about it in school. "And you've made sure
we are, too. So... can I go to the meeting?"
"I'll talk with your dad, but I think so."
"Thanks."
It wasn't much later that we got to the counselor's office, which wasn't
far from the library or our house, in an area where some older houses
had been turned into professional offices. We parked in front of one
of these houses and went in. Mom signed in with the receptionist,
and we sat down to wait; I'd brought _Howl's Moving Castle_ with me,
but on a whim, I picked up a women's magazine from one of the tables in
the waiting room. Mom and Sophia didn't subscribe to anything like that.
I only got halfway through an article on makeup tips before a door opened
and a woman with reddish-blonde hair a little older than Mom stepped out.
"Erin and Tyler Ramsey?" she asked, looking around. There were only a
couple of other people in the waiting room.
Mom said, "That's us."
"I'll see Tyler first, then you," the woman said. "Then both of you
together. Was your husband not able to make it?"
"He'll be here soon."
"Okay."
So I followed her apprehensively back down a short corridor and into
her office. There were an assortment of more or less comfortable pieces
of furniture, but nothing like a stereotypical psychoanalyst's couch --
not that I'd expected one, since Mom had described her as a counselor,
not a psychologist or psychiatrist.
"Have a seat," she said. "I'm Cheryl Hewitt. Your mother told me a
little about you on the phone, but why don't you tell me about yourself?"
"First, I'm going by Meredith. Mom and Dad are the only people who
still call me Tyler. Second -- are you required to keep everything I
say private, like a doctor or lawyer?"
"In general, but there are some exceptions because you're a minor.
If I hear something that makes me think you're a danger to yourself
or others, or that you are *in* danger from someone else, I may be
required to inform someone. But barring that, I won't share anything
you tell me with your parents or anyone else without your permission.
At the end of our session, I might ask permission to share some specific
things when we meet with your parents later on."
"Okay," I said. I still wasn't sure if I trusted her; she wasn't working
directly for me, since Mom and Dad were paying her fees. But I decided
I'd trust her a little and see what happened. "Well, the reason I'm here
is that I'm transgender. My sister and I used the Venn machine at the
library -- you've heard about it, right? -- to change me from my old body
to this. Mom and Dad grounded us both, and they haven't been letting me
borrow my sister's clothes, or spend my savings on girl clothes of my own.
After several days, Mom broke down and agreed to buy me a week's worth
of girl underwear, but I still don't have any other girl clothes except
for this outfit the Venn machine made for me when it transformed me.
I've been washing it a lot and wearing it every two or three days."
"When was it that you transformed?"
"Wednesday, the eleventh."
"So why did you feel like you wanted to be a girl?"
"Um... you do know what 'transgender' means, right?" I'd been afraid that
with the kind of friends Mom and Dad would be asking for recommendations
for counselors from, I'd get someone who didn't think gender dysphoria
was a real thing or thought it would go away if you treated the person's
other problems like depression. It was starting to look like I was right.
"I know some of the things it means," she said, "and I'm sure you know
some of its meanings, but until you tell me what you want in your own
words, without using labels or jargon, I won't know for sure if we're
using it the same way." Okay, that increased my respect for her a bit.
"Okay. Well, ever since I was little I've liked girly things. I learned
pretty early on that I'd get in trouble, or make Mom and Dad upset, if
I showed it too much, though. Like the times when I got in trouble for
playing dolls with Sophia -- that's my younger sister, she's fourteen
now, and I guess she was eight or nine the last time that happened.
I didn't realize I wanted to be a girl until a couple of years ago.
I just knew I was upset about what puberty was doing to my body, making
my voice change and hair grow all over and stuff, and I didn't know why
at first. And I envied girls sometimes for the things they got to do
and boys didn't, like wearing dresses or having babies."
I thought briefly about telling her how I'd tried researching those
weird, ambiguous feelings on the Internet and eventually stumbled on
information about gender dysphoria and then the support groups for trans
teens that I'd been active on until I was grounded. I decided against
it; I still didn't fully trust her not to tell Mom and Dad things,
and I figured I shouldn't tell her about visiting websites that should
have been blocked by the nanny software that I'd circumvented years ago.
Or maybe anything that I wouldn't tell Mom or Dad to their faces.
"So I gradually put things together, and by the time the first Venn
machine popped up at the library, I was pretty sure I wanted to be a girl.
After a few days, when there was more information available about the
machines and how the changes wore off after a certain amount of time and
could be reversed easily, I decided I should try it and see if it really
was what I wanted, because I could change back easily if I was wrong.
And it was so *wonderful* when Sophia changed me, everything felt so
right for the first time!" I'd let excitement slip into my voice,
and tried to regain some self-control so I wouldn't accidentally say
something that I wouldn't want Ms. Hewitt telling Mom and Dad.
"And there've been some frustrations since then, like not having very many
girl clothes, but I haven't regretted it for a moment. When my period
started, I was happy because it means I can have babies. I'd hoped so,
because the machines have done some pretty amazing things, but I wasn't
sure until I saw the spots of blood on the pad... I'm sure after a few
more periods, the novelty will wear off and I'll grumble about it like
other women, but not now."
"When did you start your period?"
"Thursday -- the cramps started early in the morning, and the bleeding
started a few hours later, at school."
"You mentioned feeling upset about the changes you went through at
puberty. That's normal, even for boys who don't have any interest in
being girls. Can you tell me more about how you felt then?"
I tried to remember what I'd felt years ago before I heard of the idea
of being transgender, and considered how much I wanted to tell her. "At
first, it felt like I wasn't me anymore? And then, as I thought about
it some more, I realized I'd never quite been me to begin with. I mean
I'd never had body that felt right, even though it wasn't so bad before
puberty and I could live with it.
"Then I had some dreams that helped me figure some of it out. There was
this dream where my -- boy bits fell off. And I was so happy they were
gone, and then when I woke up and realized it was a dream, I was super
conflicted about it, because my first reaction was to be sad that it
was all a dream, and then I wondered what that said about me, and I felt
guilty and hated myself for yet another reason for a while there, until
I found out that being transgender was a thing, and that I was probably
transgender. And there were some other dreams where I was just a girl,
doing normal stuff like going to school or hanging out with my sister,
and I always felt sad when I woke up and realized they were just dreams."
I might have been fudging the timeline; I honestly couldn't remember when
the dreams had happened relative to when I started feeling uncomfortable
about puberty and when I'd found information about gender dysphoria
online.
"I see." She shifted in her chair and didn't say anything for a few
moments, but before I could think of anything else to add, she went on:
"So you've felt better about your body after using the machine to change
into a girl?"
"Yes, exactly. A lot better."
"Do you get aroused when you see your new body in the mirror? Or while
showering, for instance?"
"No! I'm not --" I cut myself off. I'd planned to not tell Mom and
Dad I wasn't attracted to girls until and unless they accepted that I
was really a girl, and that meant I shouldn't tell Ms. Hewitt, either.
"I'm not like that." I'd read stories where some guy gets unexpectedly
turned into a girl, and the first thing he does (he still seems to
think like a guy at this point in most of those stories) is to find some
privacy so he can masturbate for hours, generally in front of a mirror.
That sort of narcissism disgusted me, and I didn't want to be like that.
"Let's go back to how you felt before you changed. Did you have other
bad feelings that didn't relate to your body?"
"I'm not sure. Looking back, I think most of them *were* related
to feeling my body was wrong. The persistent ones, I mean. I'd get
upset for a little while about doing badly on a test or losing a game
or a show I liked being canceled, but that would pass pretty quickly,
but I'd still feel bad about my body changing further and further from
what I wanted it to be."
"Did you sometimes feel like it was hard to get going? Hard to motivate
yourself to get ready for school or do homework or even do something
you enjoy?"
"Yeah," I said. "Not all the time, but fairly often. There were times
when it took all weekend to do homework that should have taken two
or three hours, tops. Or when I couldn't get myself to do it at all.
Times when I didn't really enjoy playing games, but I'd do it because
it would make Andrew or Sophia happy." There were several stories I'd
started writing and then abandoned when one of those spells of lethargy
came on, sometimes writing a little more of them later, but more often
starting something new when I finally started feeling more energetic.
I didn't mention them, though, because I was sure Ms. Hewitt would want
to know what the stories were about.
"I don't think you've mentioned Andrew before."
"He's my best friend; I've known him since we were kids. He used to live
in my neighborhood, but his family moved to a bigger house a few miles
outside of town when we were in middle school, so he wound up going to
a different school for eighth grade, but we're going to the same high
school, and while we were going to different schools we'd still hang
out together on the weekends."
"All right. About how often did those lethargic feelings last? And how
often did you feel that way?"
"I'm not sure. I never kept a diary consistently for very long. I think
they usually didn't last longer than a few days, and they'd probably
come on once or twice a month? But sometimes they'd last longer or
happen more often."
"Have you felt that way at any time since you transformed?"
"No. I've been frustrated several times, like about people calling me
'Tyler,' and embarrassed a few times, mostly about having to go to school
or church in baggy boy clothes, but usually just for a little while --
probably a couple of hours, tops. Never sad and lethargic like I used
to feel for days sometimes."
"How do you think changing your body like this has affected your
relationships? With your parents, your siblings, people at school?"
"Well, Mom and Dad are having a hard time with it. Dad more so than Mom.
Mom was really supportive when she found out I was having my period, even
though she was skeptical when I first started having cramps and thought
it was probably a stomach bug and the machine couldn't give someone who
was born with boy bits a real female reproductive system. In the last
couple of days, Mom's even used female pronouns for me sometimes.
"Sophia was really great right from the start. She was the first one
I told about being trans. Caleb was kind of weirded out at first, but
after he had time to think it over, I guess, he's been kind of quietly
supportive, standing up for me a couple of times. Andrew and my other
friends at school have been great about it," (at least if I didn't count
Wyatt as a friend but as a friend of a friend); "some of the other kids
not so much, but so far it's just been gossip about me behind my back,
not in-your-face bullying. The teachers have all been at least okay,
and a couple of them are pretty supportive. Coach Wilcox gave the
girls in my gym class a stern talking-to about not giving me a hard time
for changing and showering with them, or calling me by my old name or
anything, for instance.
"Some of the adults at church have been pretty judgmental, but not all
of them, and the kids around my age are pretty okay, the ones I've talked
to so far anyway. Some of them might have been avoiding me, though."
"Have you tried thinking about this from your mother or father's
perspective?"
"Kind of? Maybe not as much as I should."
"Try it. Imagine yourself in your father's place, back when he first
found out that you'd changed into a girl, and that you'd been wanting
to do so for some time before the machine appeared."
I was a little wary, as I suspected she was trying to guilt-trip me
with how much I'd upset Mom and Dad by being transgender, but I tried
it anyway. I remembered Dad's reactions that night, and tried to
imagine myself inside his skin, saying and doing those things. It was
pretty hard to set aside everything I knew about gender issues and my
own motivations and put myself in Dad's place, knowing nothing about
transgender issues except what Fox News commentators had said during the
bathroom law controversy a few years ago, and not understanding why his
"son" would want to be a girl... but I tried, and maybe by the time
Ms. Hewitt spoke again, I understood him slightly better.
"Now try imagining yourself in your mother's place when she first
found out."
I did. I thought about the differences between Dad "losing" a son and
Mom "gaining" a daughter, and how that might be affecting the way they'd
reacted to my coming out, and to the things that had happened since then.
But I also knew Mom was generally more even-tempered than Dad, and just
because she didn't splutter and shout incoherent questions didn't mean she
wasn't just as upset as Dad in her own way. I thought about the weirdly
misleading information about gender dysphoria she'd apparently found
shortly after I came out, wondering what sources she'd looked to, what
search terms she'd used, or how Google's search algorithm might have taken
her previous search history into account to steer her toward the most
conservative takes on gender issues, and how that had led her to wonder
if my dysphoria was just a weird symptom of depression or dissociation.
"Do you think you've learned anything that will help you communicate
better with them?" Ms. Hewitt asked after I'd been silently thinking
for a while.
"Yeah, maybe so. Thanks," I added grudgingly.
"I'd like you to do a couple of things between now and when I see
you again. One is to start keeping a diary, like you mentioned you've
done before sporadically. You don't have to write much, just two or
three sentences a day at least. Something about how you're feeling
and anything interesting that might have happened. And if you have
any... emotionally intense interaction with your parents -- or anyone
else -- try to write about that. And above all, don't feel guilty if
you feel too lethargic to write in it. If those depressive moods have
generally happened about once or twice a month, it won't be surprising
if you have another one that keeps you from writing in the next few weeks.
"I won't ask to read your diary, but I'll ask you if you feel like
sharing some things from it, and whether you've had a lethargic spell
that kept you from writing in it. That will help us measure how long
these spells last and get an idea of what we're dealing with."
"Okay," I said. "I have to point out that back when I last tried to
keep a diary, sometimes I'd miss some days because I was feeling too
depressed to write, but sometimes it was because I was too busy doing
fun things to write."
"You can tell me about that at our next meeting. For now, I'm going to
have a chat with your mother -- and your father, if he's here by now --
and then we'll talk again, all four of us. Do you mind if I share some
of what you said about your depressed feelings with your parents?"
I thought about it for a moment. I'd already told Mom and Dad about how
I used to feel depressed sometimes, though I hadn't gone into as much
detail with them as I had with Ms. Hewitt. "Yeah, that's okay," I said.
"Nothing else, though. Not about my dreams or anything."
It wouldn't be the end of the world if she *did* tell them about my
dreams, but that would be a small, safe test to see if she would really
respect my wishes about what she could and couldn't share with them.
"I won't," she promised. "While you're in the waiting room, think about
what you might like to say to your parents that you haven't already said."
She stood up and I followed her to the waiting room. Dad was sitting
there with Mom.
"Justin and Erin?" Ms. Hewitt said. "Come on back."
I sat down as Mom and Dad got up, and did some school reading while
I waited. I'd finished that and had just read a paragraph or two of
_Howl's Moving Castle_ when the receptionist opened the door and said,
"Tyler, come on back; Ms. Hewitt is ready to see you with your parents."
Had Ms. Hewitt called her receptionist from her office and said "Call
Tyler back"? She may not have wanted to use the name "Meredith" when
Mom and Dad were listening and antagonize them. Or, most likely,
she discounted my gender and had no plans to use the name "Meredith"
at any time.
I followed the receptionist back to Ms. Hewitt's office, where Mom and
Dad were sitting together on the sofa. I sat in one of the easy chairs.
Ms. Hewitt said, "I'd like to see you all about once a week for a while.
You don't necessarily all have to come in at the same time every week,
but at least once a month I'd like to see all three of you together.
"Now, is there anything you would like to say to each other while I'm
here to mediate?"
Mom said, "We love you, Meredith. We're having a hard time understanding
what you're going through, but we're trying." I could see Dad wince when
Mom used my new name. "Your dad and Ms. Hewitt aren't as sure as I am
that you're a girl, but we all want what's best for you." She glanced
at Dad, who cleared his throat and said:
"We talked about the clothing issue, and we decided on a compromise.
Your mom is going to take you shopping later today for a few things,
and more on the weekend... starting with things that fit your new body
better than what you're wearing, but aren't too feminine. No skirts or
dresses until Cheryl is convinced you're not... well, that this whole
girl thing isn't just a symptom of some other problem." Ms. Hewitt
frowned slightly when he said that, like he'd either given away too
much or misrepresented what she'd said. "But she and your mother have
convinced me that making you wear the clothes that fit your old body is
pointless and cruel, and I'm sorry. I'll try to do better."
"Thanks," I said, tearing up a little. I thought briefly about asking
more questions about what clothes I would be allowed and what would be
considered "too feminine", but I figured I'd have better luck if I saved
it for when Mom and I went shopping. "I love you both so much. You're so
much better than a lot of other trans kids' parents. So many..." I was
about to say "so many of my online friends" and thought better of it.
"...so many of them get disowned or abused when they come out, and I
know you would never do something like that. Thank you."
We hugged, and Ms. Hewitt showed us out, telling us to make an
appointment next week with her receptionist. A few minutes later, we
drove in separate cars over to a nearby Italian restaurant for lunch.
Once we were seated and had placed our orders, Mom said, "I mentioned
the school board meeting to your dad and Cheryl."
"Is it okay if I go?" I asked Dad.
"Yes," he said. "I'm not sure if one of us will drive you or if you'll
get a ride with that teacher. She's Caleb's Geometry teacher from a
couple of years ago, right?"
"Yes, Ms. Hodge. I've got her phone number and email address in my
notebook."
"What did she use the machine for?"
"She and her husband fixed each other's medical problems. I think she
used to have diabetes, but I don't remember what he had. And they're
younger now."
Mom gave Dad a speculative look then, and I wondered if they'd been
talking privately about maybe using the machine to make each other
younger. That would be a little weird, seeing them like they looked
in old photos from when Caleb was a baby -- or even older ones from
before they got married? -- but I'd be happy for them if they did.
Maybe they'd loosen up and let Sophia do a science project using the
Venn machine after she wasn't grounded.
"Well, it's good to know she's offering to help, but I think one or
both of us will go with you. Maybe Caleb and Sophia, too. It's been
way too long since any of us went to a city council or county commission
meeting -- probably not since you and Sophia were too young to appreciate
what was going on -- and I don't know if we've *ever* been to a school
board meeting."
I smiled broadly. Today had gone *so* much better than I'd expected, and
it was only going to get better when I got to buy some things that fit me.
==========
The rough draft of the sequel to _Pioneers_ is now over 44,000 words long
(compared to 55,000 for _Pioneers_). Even if I finish it in the next few
weeks, I won't be posting it immediately after _Pioneers_; I'll get beta
reader feedback and put it through a couple more drafts first.
My new short fiction collection, "Unforgotten and Other Stories", is
available now from Smashwords in epub format and Amazon in Kindle format.
Smashwords pays its authors higher royalties.
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/954949
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07WYC2DN9
You can find my earlier ebook novels and short story collection at the URLs
below.
The Bailiff and the Mermaid
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/563926
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B012WO9EAI
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-bailiff-and-the-mermaid-trismegistus-shandy/1122419525?ean=2940152061574
Wine Can't be Pressed into Grapes
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/319765
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CUPYSFG
When Wasps Make Honey
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/319769
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CU584JM
A Notional Treason
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/401272
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00I15RG6C
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-notional-treason-trismegistus-shandy/1118399590?ean=2940045604819
The Weight of Silence and Other Stories
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/435313
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00K5CL1B0
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-weight-of-silence-and-other-stories-trismegistus-shandy/1119459843?ean=2940045924528
Stevie
- 23.03.2022
- 8
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