Pioneers part 10 of 15
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Pioneers, Part 12 Of 15 free porn video
=== Trust Machines: Pioneers ===
part 12 of 15
by Trismegistus Shandy
-----
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.
-----
-----
Later that day, Mom and I went out and got some more girl clothes,
including a couple of pant suits for church, as well as a purse.
Sunday, we got to church at the usual time. We were less inundated
with questions than the previous Sunday, but still had a few people
asking about my new girl clothes. Sophia and I hung out with some of
Sophia's girl friends after the service while our parents were talking
with other people, and Joseph Wallace sort of orbited at the edge of the
group of girls; I tried to include him in the conversation some, thinking
about Sophia's speculation about him, but he was too shy to say much.
We went out to eat with the Eberhardts, another couple near Mom and Dad's
age whose kids were in college. They gave me some disapproving looks,
but didn't say much about me where I could hear them.
Monday at lunch, I was patiently listening to Andrew and Evan telling
us about their dates over the weekend when Hunter Gorman came over to
our table.
"Hi, Meredith," he said. "And, uh... Andrew, right? Am I interrupting
something?"
"Have a seat," Andrew said. "Guys, this is Hunter Gorman -- we met him
at the school board meeting."
Evan, Wyatt and Ian all said hi and introduced themselves. Hunter sat
down on the other side of me from Andrew.
"So," he said, "have any of you guys used the trust machine to change,
besides Andrew and Meredith?"
"Me and Andrew used it on each other," Evan said.
"Cool," Hunter said. "How long did you set the machine for?"
Andrew and Evan glanced at each other. "We don't know," Andrew admitted.
"You've gotta understand, this was maybe half an hour after the first
librarian who got to work discovered the machine. Nobody knew what
those buttons meant yet, and we've tried to remember which buttons we
pushed to get the booths to open, and we can't. But it was obviously
more than three days."
"Oh! So you were some of the first people to see it?" Hunter glanced
at me. "You too?"
"Not exactly. Andrew called me as soon as he saw it, and I got over
there as soon as I could finish my homework, but by the time I got there,
the deputies had already cordoned it off. I didn't get to change until
after the new machine popped up."
We talked about the Venn machines and the stranger changes people had
made for a while, and then started speculating about how things would
change as more machines kept popping up in more and more small towns.
"I figure if they keep appearing only in small towns and not in big
cities," Hunter said, "in another twenty years, it will be the big
cities that are considered backwards and conservative while the small
towns will be more accepting of people who are weird in some way."
"Yeah, that could happen, but I'm not holding my breath," I said.
"I think it'll take more than twenty years. And maybe the towns where
the machines have appeared will have a boom in population while the big
cities shrink a little?"
I thought about the implications of that; if the neighborhood around the
library became extremely desirable with a lot of new people moving in, the
value of our house would go up, along with our property taxes. I wasn't
sure if our mortgage would be affected. We might have to sell if they
went up too much, but we'd get more out of the house than we expected.
Of course, with the number of machines that have appeared since then,
with still more appearing all the time, the boost in property values
in the vicinity of Venn machines hasn't been as great as some people
expected early on. Mom and Dad still live in the same house even now.
-----
Tuesday after school, Mom picked me up and we went to Cheryl Hewitt's
office. She asked me how I'd been feeling, and what I'd written in my
diary about. I'd written in it every day for the past week, though most
days I didn't have a lot to talk about, so it was just a paragraph about
how I was feeling, except Thursday-Friday when I wrote a lot about the
school board meeting and Carmen. (I'd started that entry Thursday night
after we came home from the meeting, and had so much to say I didn't
finish it until Friday during free period.)
Telling Ms. Hewitt about Carmen might have been a mistake, because
she had a lot of questions about them and my conversations with them.
From the tone of her questions, I got the impression she thought Carmen
was a bad influence, though she didn't come out and say it.
I also told her about getting new girl clothes Monday and Saturday,
and about the OB/GYN appointment, and how validating all that had felt.
She nodded noncommittally and asked a few more questions about those
events.
Hunter started eating lunch with Andrew, Evan, and me as often as not.
I gathered that he hadn't had any close friends at school before his
transformation. He'd made some other new friends besides us, and ate
with them about half the time; toward the end of that week he introduced
me to some of them. They were mostly juniors who'd venned each other
into hotter bodies, some of them with unusual features. One of them
was Melanie Endicott's little sister Hanna, who had three breasts.
"How do you get bras to fit you?" I asked her as we bused our trays
after lunch. "For that matter, how did Melanie get all those tops with
four arm-holes? Did y'all sew them yourselves?"
"No," Hanna explained. "Once we got each other's bodies the way we
wanted them, we just kept changing clothes in the library restroom and
then going to the trust machine and changing each other's clothes so
they fit, without changing each other's bodies."
"Huh. I didn't realize you could do that. Maybe I can turn all my old
boy clothes into girl clothes that way?"
"Yeah, it would probably work."
"If Mom and Dad let me near the machine again."
"Point out how much money they can save that way," she suggested.
"I will, thanks."
Friday morning during homeroom, there was an announcement over the
PA that the school board had decided on a new policy for the use of
transformation booths by students, faculty and staff, and people should
look at the school website for details. At lunch, Andrew and other people
with cellphones were looking up the new policy and reading bits of it
aloud to those without them. Apparently, you weren't allowed to come
to school with a short-term change, and for a long-term change, you had
to file a form ahead of time telling the school administration you were
going to change, and then get *another* form witnessed by a notary public
who watched you go in the booth and come out different, and took photos
and fingerprints before and after. (Somebody on the board had done their
research and found out that people's fingerprints would change even after
a fairly minor transformation that didn't obviously affect their hands.)
"That's a lot of hassle," Andrew said, frowning.
"It's worth it for people like me and Hunter," I said. "I guess it's
meant to discourage people from changing casually. I wonder if they're
going to require us to file those forms retroactively? Does it say
anything about that?"
"No... I don't see anything about that yet, but it's long and a lot of
it is kind of legal-jargony."
"I guess I should ask somebody."
After school, I told Mom and Dad about the new policy, and we looked it up
and read it. At last, buried near the end, we found something about how
changes people had already made were grandfathered in, but that we would
have to file a form within two weeks of the policy coming into effect.
Saturday, after Sophia and I had finished our homework and Mom and Dad
had gotten back from their yard-saling, I told them what Hanna had told
me about using the machine to transform old clothes to fit your new body.
"I think she was just adjusting her old bras and her sister's old tops
to fit, but I bet we could make bigger changes. Like jeans into a skirt
or a T-shirt into a blouse."
"No skirts until Ms. Hewitt says it's okay," Dad insisted.
"But... transforming your old clothes might make sense. At some point.
We'll do some research."
I let it drop for the moment, and neither Dad nor Mom brought it up
again until after our appointment with Ms. Hewitt the following week.
I talked to Carmen on the phone for a little while that evening, but
they didn't have a lot of time to talk; they were fixing to go meet
their friend Zoe to see a movie.
Sunday after the service, Joseph Wallace came over to me and Sophia and
said, "Um, hi, Meredith," glancing at his parents, who were talking with
the Eberhardts a few yards away, and then back at us. "Hi, Sophia."
"Hi, Joseph. How have you been doing this week?"
"Pretty okay, I guess. I, um, didn't get a chance to talk to you last
Sunday, you were kind of busy, but I wanted to say..." His face got red
and he stammered for a few moments before mumbling something inaudible
and hurrying away.
"He's definitely got a crush on you," Sophia whispered in my ear.
"I think you're probably right," I replied in a low voice. "Do you
think I should go talk to him?"
"Can't hurt."
Joseph had been heading toward the vestibule, so I went out there,
but didn't see him. I found Nathan talking with Caleb and Christopher,
another guy who went to the Everett Academy.
"Hey, have y'all seen Joseph?" I asked.
"I think he went to the restroom," Nathan said. So I camped out near
the restrooms for a few minutes until Joseph came out.
He looked startled, then guilty, then looked away from me. "S-sorry,"
he said, "I, um..."
"It's okay," I said, smiling. "It's just that I didn't hear what you
said earlier."
"Um, yeah..." His face got redder. "I just wanted to say that
Ireallylikeyouroutfit." He looked away again.
"Thanks," I said. "Mom took me shopping last week. I mean, Saturday
before last. We finally talked Dad into letting me get some girl
clothes."
"That's cool," he said, meeting my eyes again briefly. "What all, um,
kinds of things did you get?"
"Well, Dad said no skirts or dresses yet, and Mom said no sleeveless or
cold shoulder tops, but I got some casual pants and tops for school and
a couple of pant suits like this for church. I hope Dad will relent
on the dresses before next Sunday, but I'm not holding my breath --
he's already being more reasonable than I expected."
I wasn't sure how much detail Joseph really wanted. If Sophia was right
in her guess that Joseph was a trans girl, she'd probably want juicy
details about the specific cuts, fits and colors, but if he was just
expressing polite interest because he had a crush on me and was willing
to listen to me talk about anything at all, I might be boring him already.
"That's good to hear," he said. "I mean," he went on hastily, "that
they're being, uh, more reasonable than you expected. I guess it could
be a lot worse."
"Yeah, definitely."
We were both quiet for a few moments before Joseph glanced past me and
said, "I guess I'd better go."
I turned and saw that his parents had come out into the vestibule, and
his mom was giving me -- or Joseph, or both of us -- a scowl. "It was
nice to talk to you," I said hastily. "I'm sorry if I've gotten you
into trouble," and ducked into the ladies' room as if I'd been on my
way there and had just passed by Joseph for a moment on the way.
I'd avoided going to the restroom at church as long as possible, waiting
till we went out to eat afterward when I could hold it that long, but
now that I was there, though I could wait a few minutes till we got to
whatever restaurant we were eating at this Sunday, I figured I might
as well. Nobody was washing their hands or checking their makeup when
I entered, so I slipped into a stall and did my business.
By the time I came out to wash my hands, though, Mrs. Dirksen had flushed
and exited her stall, and she glared at me in the mirror as I approached
the sink.
"You shouldn't be here," she said. "It's not right."
"Do you want me to hurry out without washing my hands?" I asked, feigning
surprise. I'd been lucky enough not to get this kind of treatment at
school -- or not much -- but I'd figured it would happen sooner or later
at church, and I was right. "That wouldn't be sanitary."
"You know what I mean, young man."
That hurt worse than the "You shouldn't be here;" I'm not sure why.
I wavered between bursting into tears and bursting into a rant. I tried
to keep cool and said, as I turned on the hot faucet and started washing
my hands, "I have every right to be here. It would be indecent for
me to go to the men's room, and they don't have enough stalls there,
and I c-can't..." I was going to say "can't pee standing up," but I
burst into sobs that were only partly drowned out by the water faucets.
Mrs. Dirksen gave me a disapproving look and punched the big button
of the hand dryer, which drowned out my sobs entirely. I stayed there
as she left, and washed my face, too, then realized there weren't any
paper towels to dry it with. I went back into one of the stalls and
dried off with toilet paper, then stood in front of the mirror picking
bits of wet toilet paper off my face, hoping no one would come in and
see me in that ridiculous position.
Fortunately, nobody but Sophia saw me as I was picking off the last
couple of pieces. "What are you doing?" she asked as she came in and
saw me leaning close to the mirror.
"It's a long story."
"Mom and Dad are saying it's time to go."
"Just a second." I picked off the last bit of toilet paper, and was
about to go, but asked Sophia, "Do you see anything stuck to my face?"
She examined me. "No, you got it all. What was it?"
"...I'll tell you later."
Of course, who would we be going to lunch with but the Dirksens.
We went to a local steakhouse a couple of miles from the church; the
Dirksens had already arrived and gotten a table for us, and we joined
them. Mom sat down next to Mrs. Dirksen, and Dad next to Mr. Dirksen,
with Sophia and I next to the women and Caleb on the other side of the
table with the men.
So I was sitting right next to Mom when Mrs. Dirksen said to her, after
we'd given the waiter our drink orders, "Erin, I don't think you should
be letting Tyler use the ladies' room."
"Do you seriously think she should use the men's room?" Mom asked
incredulously. "The machine changed her completely into a girl."
Dad said: "It's not obvious what would be best, but there are certainly
potential problems with Tyler using the men's room, too."
"I'm still not sure why you're letting him stay like that," Mr. Dirksen
said.
"I've told you why we're not forcing the issue," Dad said. "That's not
open to debate."
I was furiously studying my menu, without understanding a word I was
reading. I wanted to jump into the conversation and defend myself,
but I had a feeling it would be a bad idea. If I forced Mom and Dad
to choose between me and their transphobic friends they'd known since
before I was born... well, I was pretty sure they'd side with me, but
they'd resent the necessity and maybe take it out on me unconsciously.
And it looked like the Dirksens were going to make them choose between
us without my help.
"All right," Mr. Dirksen said, holding up his hands. "All I'm saying is,
back when Tori wanted to wear something to school that hardly covered more
than a swimsuit, we didn't ground her until she agreed to wear something
decent, we just made her wear something else and threw out the outfit."
Tori was their daughter, a sophomore at UNC Chapel Hill.
"This is more complicated than that," Mom said. "Please, just pray for
us and trust that we're trying our best to figure it out."
Sophia reached over and squeezed my hand, and I realized I was gripping
my menu so hard my knuckles were white. I forced myself to relax and
take a couple of deep breaths.
"This doesn't affect just you," Mrs. Dirksen said. "It affects everyone
you and Tyler interact with, at church or at school or wherever.
By buying him those clothes and letting him use the ladies' room --"
"Stop," Mom said, leaning forward a little. "Please, Tamara, let's talk
about something else." After a brief pause, she continued: "What have
you heard from Tori lately?"
Mrs. Dirksen didn't say anything for a few moments, but she relented and
started telling us about Tori's volunteer work with a student organization
that visited people in the hospital. I sighed with relief and returned
to studying the menu.
==========
"Wings", the sequel to "Pioneers", is now over 83,000 words. I'm about two
and a half years into a story that's probably going to cover about five
years of internal chronology. (There are a lot of timeskips and montages;
it's not paced like "Pioneers".)
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
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- 26.08.2022
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