Bodysuit Planet free porn video

When it became impossible to tell whether or not someone was wearing a bodysuit - and almost everyone was, anyway - how could you know anyone's true age or gender? BODYSUIT PLANET by BobH (c) 2023 Robin Dukayne: "Yes, oooh yeeesss!!!" I cried as Grant's powerful, skillful ramming brought me to orgasm. Seconds later he came too, filling me with his seed. Afterwards, we lay together smiling and gazing into each others eyes, he caressing my breasts and me running my fingers through his luxuriant chest hair. "That... that was amazing!" I said. "You were pretty good, too," he said, grinning. As well as being the first man I'd ever had sex with, Grant Quartermayne was also the first throwback, which wasn't surprising given throwbacks made up less than one percent of the human population. Not that he'd told me that's what he was, of course, but then with his height he didn't need to. I'd have liked to have stayed snuggling with him longer, but sadly I couldn't. "Do you have to go?" he said, as he watched me retrieve my discarded clothing from where it lay strewn around the room. "I really do," I said, putting on my bra then squeezing into my sinfully tight black leather mini dress. "It's alright for you, but some of us have jobs, and I have to be at mine this afternoon." I slipped on my strappy four inch spike heeled shoes, shook out my long, blonde hair, and gazed down at Grant, taking in his muscular, darkly hairy body and that ruggedly handsome face with its thick moustache and twinkling blue eyes. "I hope we get to do this again soon," I said leaning down to kiss him. "Me too," he replied, giving my shapely ass a slap as I departed. I exited the hotel via a drop tube that took me down to the maglev station, one of a number on the underground transport network that criss- crosses the continent. Though I managed to get a seat, the carriage was more crowded than I like. Seated among the other passengers, all of whom appeared young and attractive, was a scruffily dressed and out-of-shape middle-aged person I took to be male. I tried not to stare but it's so rare to see someone having their naked skin on display like that that I couldn't help myself. Others were giving him disapproving looks, and I couldn't blame them. Given that such behaviour is now outside societal norms, I wondered how long it would be before it got lumped in with exposing yourself in public and was fined accordingly. The sooner the better, frankly. Pulling my gaze away from the weirdo, I decided to call up the latest listings for lingerie on my tablet. Grant loves seeing me in skimpy, sexy lingerie and I love wearing it for him. I also love wearing it for myself and I'd developed a real appreciation for it over the past few months. I now had almost as big a collection of lingerie as I did pairs of shoes. Ten minutes later I was in my own apartment, getting ready for work. Stripping off my clothing I called up a holographic mirror which appeared shimmering in the air before me. As I always did, I stood for a moment and drank in the image of female perfection reflected back at me, admiring that stunningly beautiful young woman, then sighed wistfully as I prepared myself for what came next. I blinked rapidly three times, which caused a drop down menu to appear in the corner of my vision. Using eye movement I scrolled down this until I reached the cosmetics section. Scrolling past OPTIONS 1 through 6 - each of which I'd set up to go with various of my clothing ensembles - I stopped at the option labelled COSMETIC UNDO and once again blinked rapidly three times. This caused my eyelashes to retract to normal length and the lipstick, eyeshadow, and other simulated make-up I appeared to be wearing to fade away. This done I scrolled on to UNSEAL AND RELEASE, again blinking rapidly three times. In response the usually undetectable seal running from the base of my skull to my anus opened up and the bodysuit I was wearing began pulling away from the skin beneath, becoming baggy as air was sucked in and over my real flesh. Reaching behind me, a hand grabbing each side of the opening, I pulled the pseudo-flesh of the bodysuit over my head, freeing the real head beneath, tugged it down over my shoulders, past my waist, and on to the ground. Now the mirror showed me as I really was, a thin, pale and shaven-headed, middle-aged man as plain and androgynous as everyone else in the world. Well, *almost* everyone else. Stepping out of the discarded bodysuit pooled around my feet automatically set in motion the next part of the process. Though it was something I'd seen many times before, I watched in fascination as it automatically expelled all the air from within and slowly compressed itself into something the size and shape of those large book things you see in museums, ready to be stored away until the next time I needed it. Like most people, I had a cabinet where I kept my bodysuits. I stored this one in the drawer labelled 'Mitzi' where it would stay until the next time I wanted to go out as her, then took another from the drawer labelled 'Robin', my real name. This was the 'me' that everyone knew, my everyday bodysuit. Like almost everyone the face I presented to the world was not my flesh and blood one but that of the bodysuit I wore. When I was Mitzi, Robin, or Craig, (the latter being my other bodysuit, though I hardly used it anymore) I *became* them because they all felt more real to me than the fleshy form that lay beneath. And since meeting Grant I'd gone from regularly having sex with women to only ever having sex *as a women*, and only with him. The sex was phenomenal, the best I'd ever had, and our society was entirely accepting of sexual fluidity, but it did sometimes worry me that the change had happened so quickly and that I was so comfortable with it. Three quick shakes activated my regular bodysuit, which drew air into itself and inflated to the point where I could climb inside. It was baggy and ill-fitting at first until I did the blinking thing and the drop down menu appeared in the corner of my vision. Using eye movement to scroll down this, I stopped at the option labelled SEAL AND FIT and once again blinked rapidly three times. In response the bodysuit began expelling the air within it, bonding its pseudoflesh to my own skin beneath. The process was a bit like vacuum-sealing something except that the pseudoflesh still allowed my own skin to breathe and to feel and even absorbed dead skin and sweat while still allowing pheromones out. No longer androgynous-looking, I now had muscle and bodily hair of my own. Not as much of either as Grant, it's true, but enough to make me feel more fully male than I would otherwise. But then that's why almost everyone wore bodysuits. The Great Pandemic that burned through our population two hundred years ago decimated it, and the Cure that was found unexpectedly resulted in babies being born thereafter who did not develop the same degree of gender differentiation as we once possessed. Male or female, we all had the same boyish shape, soft features, no bodily hair, and were between five-seven and five nine in height. Men and women had different genitals, of course, and women had tiny breasts, but other than that we pretty much looked the same. Well, apart from throwbacks, the less than one percent of the human population who looked the way men and women used to look. Much as I'd like to have eaten a late lunch before setting off I was already running late, so after getting dressed I grabbed a protein bar and headed out. I had a final report to deliver on a couple of potentially useful technologies from a parallel Earth we discovered six months ago. And Isaac Questor was not a man who liked underlings to keep him waiting. A tall, patrician figure, powerfully built and with slate grey hair, Questor had always intimidated me. * Isaac Questor: Standing at the window of my thirteenth floor office, I gazed out over the rolling parkland of what on most other Earths was known as Manhattan with satisfaction. The Many Worlds headquarters building was at the northerhmost edge of development that I allowed on the island, roughly level with where the southern end of Central Park would be on those other Earths. Here the parkland, tended by teams of robo-gardeners, extended into the island's northernmost reaches, all the way to where the mansion stood. My mansion. On my island. "It's a glorious day," I said, still staring out of the window, "so this morning I rode a horse to work. After this meeting I'll return on the private underground maglev that connects this building to the mansion that I have exclusive use of, and do you know why, Mr Dukayne?" "Umm, because you can?" "Exactly," I replied, turning to face him. "Being one of the most powerful people in the world has its privileges. But then with great responsibility should come great rewards." On my horse ride I'd been accompanied by an array of security drones that kept just out of sight. Corporate succession might no longer be accomplished by anything so crude as assassination, but as head of one of the four global megacorps that ran the world I was always going to be a target of someone or other so these were a necessary precaution. Dukayne nodded nervously, clearly not quite sure how he was supposed to respond to what I'd said. As someone whose corporate loyalty oath tied him to me he could in no way betray me or go against my wishes in matters of business, yet he always seemed furtive and uncomfortable in my presence. Even so, he was the best Evaluator I had. I briefly turned my attention to a holoscreen, one showing the cloud of small surveillance satellites in orbit high above. As I watched, one of these suddenly glowed briefly before winking out of existence, leaving only empty space where it had been. This was a NESS, a New Earths Survey Satellite. They were parked in orbit around this Earth - Earth Zero - and designed to be injected into orbit around newly discovered Earths as part of the survey of those new worlds. What I had just witnessed was one such transdimensional insertion. That satellite was now in orbit around another Earth, monitoring their radio traffic, TV shows and the like in order to build up as complete a picture of that world as possible. There was little chance the natives would detect the NESS since it was cloaked and the tech of Earth Zero was far ahead of those of any other Earth yet discovered. "So," I said. "The report." "Yes, sir," said Dukayne, consulting his tablet. "How Earth 873 differs from those at the type B level of development that is standard for almost all of those we've encountered thus far lies in two technologies. The first of these is a drug called ReStorr. Invented by a man named Calvin Corso who was searching for a way of reversing the aging process, it returns the subject to their physical prime somewhere in the 18-22 range. Age regression occurs at the rate of a week per decade, with no upper limit on how great an age they can start from. Typically, the subject sheds a lot of weight during that time, and burning it off helps fuel the process. Rapid hair growth is a side effect and once begun, with a single injection, the process can neither be halted nor reversed. There is a limitation, however, in that the process only works on men. This is because it does what it does by switching the DNA of the subject with that of someone else and, unfortunately for women, the subject must have a Y-chromosome and the donor must not, or nothing happens. In other words, it turns old men into young women. They get their youth back, but at the cost of their manhood. Since the process doesn't work on women, it follows that once someone has been transformed they don't get to do it again. The potential implication of ReStorr for our world was obvious." "Use the DNA of female throwbacks or women from other Earths and we could mitigate some of the effects of the Cure." "Exactly. Naturally, we procured samples and tested it on volunteers. Unfortunately, the Cure had mutated their DNA enough that it doesn't work on our males." "Pity. What was the other technology?" "Consciousness projection. This enables someone - the 'rider' - to spend up to a week in control of the body of another person - the 'mount'. The inputs and outputs from the brains of both rider and mount are 'disconnected' from their bodies and a temporary connection forged between the brain of the rider and the body of the mount. The mind of the mount goes into an induced 'sleep mode', while to an outside observer the body of the rider would appear to be in a comatose state. In actual fact the rider is in complete control of the mount's body. It feels in all respects as if it were their own." "But only for a week?" "Yes, because much more than a week at a time is not considered healthy for either riders or mounts. For example, while a rider is strapped into a projection rig they are fed intravenously but there's inevitably going to be some muscle wastage, even though the rig is designed to also work their limbs. Then there's the disorientation. Both are manageable on the scale of a week, but the longer someone is in a rig the more pronounced the effects when they emerge from them. So it's considered psychologically healthier for the mounts to work a one week on/one week off shift pattern." "A shift pattern? How is this technology being employed?" "At an exclusive semi-tropical resort where those willing to pay for the privilege get to spend seven days as someone of a different age, gender, race, or combination thereof. The range over which consciousness projection works is limited, the island being of a size carefully chosen to fall within that range." "And the limit is...?" "The neural link between rider and mount can't be sustained over distances much beyond two miles. And that's because of physics. Talk with someone over a distance of three thousand miles and there's a small but noticeable delay that can lead to you talking over each other. Talk with someone on our lunar colony and there's a two and a half second delay. The moon is a quarter of a million miles away. Compared to that the delay over a distance of two miles would seem to be negligible, but it turns out the brain/body link is a very finely calibrated thing. A delay of more than the infinitesimal one involved over that short distance breaks the connection." "Could the technology be used in a corporate power-play on our Earth?" "We had the same concern, sir, and so procured a consciousness projection rig and associated tech to assess the threat. It turns out that the neural web in a mount's brain that enables them to be ridden is easily detected by the same mind-scanning devices used to ensure compliance with our corporate loyalty oaths. In other words, the technology presents no threat at all." "Interesting. That being so I can't see this being something we would have much use for. Another pity. However, this Calvin Corso intrigues me. He may be one of those rare geniuses centuries if not millennia ahead of his time. Keep monitoring him to see what else he comes up with." "As you wish, sir." "Good. Dismissed." When Dukayne had gone, I took the drop tube connecting my office directly to my private maglev. It had been a tiring couple of days and I needed to get some sleep. As I was being whisked along the length of the island I once again found myself pondering the problem of my daughter. There was an underlying resentment there that I didn't understand, and in the past couple of decades, ever since returning from that damned Earth where she witnessed a Genderwave Event from orbit, Rachel's ambition had gradually grown. No longer content to run our bodysuit division it was now obvious that she wanted my job, too. Well, she wasn't going to get it. Corporate succession used to be a bloody affair but since assassinating your rivals had been outlawed it had become a more subtle process. Even 'disappearing' a rival was now next to impossible since we all had monitor discs implanted in our bodies that constantly fed our vitals to dedicated computers kept in a secure location. Those discs and computers were quantum-paired and so completely unhackable. The feed from them could not be copied, spoofed, or redirected in any way. And if you tried to remove the disc from someone's body this would instantly render it inert, sounding an alarm. I had no idea what Rachel was planning but my every instinct told me it would be coming sooner rather than later. Which meant I was going to have to act before she did. But worrying about that could wait 'til tomorrow. The maglev delivered me to the small platform beneath my mansion and I got out. But rather than go up to the mansion I instead opened the concealed door at the end of the platform that led to a hidden chamber only I knew about. Here I shed my clothes, plugged a datachip into the bodysuit I kept there, then donned it. Blinking three times made the drop down menu appear in the corner of my vision. Selecting SEAL AND FIT caused the bodysuit began expelling the air within it, bonding it to my skin. As this happened so I sat down on my chubby ass, the bodysuit being designed to limit my ability to stand or walk. When it had finished sealing itself, I rolled over and crawled through a hatch into the much larger, carpeted chamber beyond. Everything in this room was gigantic, including the crib, the playpen, the toys, and the pretty young woman in the tight-fitting nurse's outfit. She was sitting in a chair, staring straight ahead, and was fully fourteen feet tall. As I entered so she came to life and smiled down at me. "Hello, little miss!" she said, coming over and scooping me up in her arms. "And how's my favourite baby girl today?" Looking and feeling like a real flesh and blood woman thanks to the same pseudoflesh used in bodysuits, the robot was strong enough to treat me as if I was no heavier than the baby I now appeared to be. "Command: pause," I said, and the robot immediately froze. I'd been looking at that face for more than a month now, but today I'd been much taken with a vid of a mother and her baby I'd seen among the images from another Earth captured and transmitted back to us by its NESS. I'd had the mother's image processed and captured on the datachip now loaded into my bodysuit. "Upload facial file Isaac27," I said, and before my eyes the robot's face morphed into that of the young mother, her hair shifting from blonde to brown. As soon as the process was complete she unfroze, smiling down at me. "Nursey knows what baby needs," she said, unfastening some buttons to expose her left breast and holding me to it, cooing all the while. I suckled happily on that enormous teat, the warm milk both nourishing me and making me feel drowsy. Finally able to relax at last, I let go of all my worries and all my stress as she nurtured me, secure in the knowledge that when I drifted off Nursey would settle me down in my crib, tuck me in, pull the bars up, and watch over me while I slept. Bliss! * Robin Dukayne: "I have those samples you wanted, Robin," said Sally in the breathy tones she had set her bodysuit's vocal modulator to produce. She was leaning forward over my desk so as to give me a full view of the large breasts displayed by her plunging neckline. With her big tits and ass, her tiny waist, sensuous pout, and long, thick dark hair Sally Vornan was a sexual fantasy figure come to life. She emphasized this with her cosmetic choices, tight little minidress, five- inch heels, and relentless flirting. All of this made her very distracting to share an office with, even though I knew that beneath that almost cartoonishly 'sexy' bodysuit she was as plain and androgynous as the rest of us. It was considered extremely rude to ask someone's true age, race or gender, the mores of our society dictating that you were supposed to accept everyone as how they presented themselves, even if you and they were lovers. In this particular case I happened to know that Sally was actually a 72 year old widow. When her husband died she decided to go wild and live as someone a third her true age with a string of young or young-presenting lovers. I had no doubt that Sally's bodysuit was a special, one that boosted her energy levels, monitored her health and supported her limbs, a complete medical maintenance unit in other words. And since it was something you could do with the latest models, I don't imagine she ever took it off either. That was certainly true for my father. I remember getting that message from Dad saying that he'd found love again and wanted us to meet. It had been a year since Mom died so I was happy for him. The accompanying vid showed him and a beautiful young blonde cavorting on a beach, Dad presenting as a ruggedly handsome and seriously ripped young stud with a thick beard and the inevitable hairy chest. Being unable to grow it naturally ourselves the men of my Earth were envious of bodily hair. When I turned up at Dad's apartment at the agreed time I was greeted at the door by the blonde. She was dressed in a lacy black catsuit and heels, a large bow in her hair. "Robin!" she squealed, kissing me on the cheek. "I'm so glad you came!" "Uh, yeah," I said, a bit taken aback, "is my Dad here?" She gave a throaty laugh and struck a sexy pose. "You're looking at him... or rather her," she purred, "Dad? But I thought you were the guy in the vid you sent!" "No, that's Chris. Isn't he just gorgeous?" "He's a good looking guy, yes. And you're in love? But you and Mom...?" "What about me and your mother? We had thirty great years together." "You always said Mom was the only woman for you." "And she was, but now I'm with a man. You're still young so I don't expect you to understand, but after a year of mourning your mother I was lonely and ready to put myself out there again. But I didn't want to do so in my regular bodysuit, the one I'd been wearing in public since we were married. When I mentioned this to my boss she talked me into trying out a new one, this one." "Your boss? Rachel Questor, the head of our bodysuit division?" "Yes. I'd never considered wearing a female bodysuit before, and this was at the cutting edge of bodysuit design." "How so?" "Watch this." Two bursts of three rapid blinks later and her skin turned dark brown. "Whoa!" I said, impressed. "That's nothing, watch this," she continued, and her skin turned green. "I can do the same thing with my hair, and there are a whole range of other colours, too. I can also simulate fur, with the patterns of a tiger, leopard, zebra, and even a Dalmation if I choose. The minor make- up simulation we've been able to achieve so far is one thing, but when they roll out this model you're going to see all those and more appearing in public." "So, presenting as female?" I said. Having only ever worn male bodysuits I couldn't imagine suddenly appearing in public in a female one. "Well yeah. That happened to be how the prototype had been made, and I *am* a Tester, so I agreed. I was self-conscious about being female in public at first but I quickly got used to it. When Chris Tarkas started flirting with me I treated it a game at first, a way of seeing just how convincing I could be as a woman. I certainly wasn't expecting anything to develop between us, but I'm so glad it did. I never thought I'd ever be as happy with anyone again. So this is who I am now, Helen Dukayne. And I never take the suit off." "So, 'Helen'," I said, "does Chris know who you are beneath it?" "No, and I don't want him finding out, either, so instead of my son we'll tell him you're my cousin." "Okay," I agreed with a sigh, having half-expected this. "Oh, and there's one more thing. Chris has asked me to marry him... and I want you to be my maid of honour." * Isaac Questor: "Hello, father," said Rachel, with the briefest of smiles. "Daughter," I said, giving a small nod of acknowledgement. We were in a chamber containing a large water tank with a dolphin, standing on a platform above it, except that we weren't. She and an underling were in the chamber with the tank while I was there as a hologram. Physically, I was in a chamber at Many Worlds where they and the tank were the holograms. Rachel and I hadn't been in the same room together in the flesh in decades. Neither of us trusted the other enough anymore to risk anything as foolish as that. "So this new suit from your division represents a huge leap in bodysuit design, does it?" I said, sounding dubious. "The animal skin patterning and colour options you unveiled last year were amusing but they were hardly revolutionary." "What I have to show you dwarfs that accomplishment," she said. "This is Fabian, the Tester who'll be demonstrating its capabilities for you." What Fabian looked like I have no idea, but in the suit he was presenting as a fairly slim guy in his twenties, which might not be that dissimilar to what he looked like beneath it, or it might not. He had no body hair at all, an unusual choice. "Okay Fabian," said Rachel, patting his ass, "show him what you can do." Blinking ensued as he made a menu selection, after which his skin turned dark grey and acquired a sheen. "That's it?" I said, unimpressed. "Another patterning option?" "Oh, it's much more than that," said Rachel running a hand down his torso. "What you're seeing now is sharkskin, in both texture and capabilities, a very efficient skin to have when underwater, but the most impressive development is this." Some more blinking and then slits appeared on each side of Fabian's neck, transparent membranes appeared over his eyes, and his feet extended into flippers. He held up his hands, which now had webbing between the fingers, and there were ribbed fins running along the length of his forearms. "So the slits have to be...." "Gills," said Rachel, "and there's built-in pressure equalisation, too. Wearing suits with these options we can now colonise the oceans if we choose, on our world and on others" Fabian jumped into the tank and spent the next few minutes swimming around inside it as gracefully as the dolphin, like someone born to that element. And unlike the dolphin he never once came up for air. "Impressed?" said Rachel "Very," I replied. "I'll authorise an initial production run immediately. Well done." With that I broke the connection, the holograms blinked out of existence, and I was alone in my own chamber once more. Various administrative duties, executive oversight decisions, and other tedious things that are necessary for the smooth running of something as complex as Many Worlds Inc and its parent QuestorCorp occupied me into the evening, after which I was beat. I returned home at the end of the day to the only thing that could relax me anymore.... After breast-feeding, Nursey powdered and diapered me, dressed me in my favourite little pink dress, frilled bonnet and booties, then lay me down in my cot and kissed me on the forehead. "Goodnight, little princess," she said, kissing me again. "Sleep tight, sweetie." I sucked contentedly on my pacifier as I drifted off, reflecting on how what had once been an occasional indulgence had now become a nightly ritual. But then, this was the only way I could get any sleep these days. * Robin Dukayne: "So you're Bob Dukayne's son," said Rachel Questor, from behind her impressive desk, leaning back in her chair and taking a long drag on her cigarette as she appraised me. This was the first time I had ever met her, and the only one to date. A tall, attractive redhead, Rachel was far older than she appeared. She was childless despite having five husbands and three wives behind her, and still looked like the 19 year-old she had been when given the treatment that halted her aging. Isaac appears middle-aged because that's what he was when the process was discovered. Allegedly vastly expensive and involving elements that are extremely rare, it was thus limited to the obscenely wealthy few only. Like her father, she appeared to be a throwback, but actually both of them had been born before The Great Pandemic of two centuries ago. Rachel had only been a toddler at the time, so the term didn't really apply to her either. "My corporate loyalty oath was sworn to your father," I reminded her, "so I'm incapable of betraying him." "Nor would I expect you to, Robin," she said, getting up and coming out from behind her desk. "Your own father is one of my most valued Testers, and the high-end custom bodysuit I'm giving you is my wedding gift to him... sorry, her." Taking a final drag on her cigarette, she stubbed it out in the marble ashtray on her desk. "Did you know that the tobacco plant was wiped out by a blight on our Earth two thousand years ago and so was unknown here until we reintroduced it? Now smoking is widespread, one of many things we've copied from other Earths. I acquired the habit myself in Paris during the 1920s. Of course, that was when my father still allowed me to take sabbaticals on other Earths. But I digress...." "Not a problem," I said. "As a loving son *of course* you agreed to be your father's maid of honour, but I gather this is something new for you?" "It is. I've never worn a female bodysuit before." "Never? Oh my. Then it's high time you did. Every man should spend at least a few months passing as female." She picked up a thin metal ring from her desk, one about two inches in diameter, and dropped this over her middle finger, which she then waggled. Taking it off, she turned it over and dropped it over her finger again. This time the finger vanished. When she removed it, her finger reappeared. "You know what this is, of course?" I nodded. "We discovered several million of them on a dead Earth," I said, "purpose unknown. From one side it's just an ordinary ring but from the other an extrusion into a pocket dimension of about a foot or so." "Quite so. The Earth in question had been no more technologically advanced than any other we've discovered, yet they made these," Rachel mused, "something that's beyond our current technology. It's strange but that does occasionally happen, an innovation in one area that - to us - seems out of step with how advanced the rest of an Earth's technology. Why is that, do you think?" "Because of once-in-a-century geniuses that are sometimes millennia ahead of their fellows, people like Archimedes. They're wild cards, their effects entirely unpredictable." "Yes, that makes sense," said Rachel, nodding. "For my bodysuit division the rings were just what we needed. They provide a vaginal cavity when built into female bodysuits intended for men, a far better solution than what are essentially pockets laying on the belly that are still used in the more primitive bodysuits we sell through various outlets on other Earths." I was already aware of all this, as she must know. "The reason I mention this," she continued, as if reading my mind, "is because those of you working in Many Worlds didn't see much point in the rings, yet we did. But then other divisions often see potential in things head office dismisses, which isn't surprising given who's in charge." She could see I was uncomfortable with this criticism of her father so she changed the subject. "Time to show you your new suit," she said, whereupon a hologram of a naked woman appeared in the air before us, and I gasped. I'm not sure what I'd expected but it wasn't the slowly rotating image of female perfection in front of me. She was a stunningly beautiful young woman. "Like what you see?" said Rachel, smirking at my reaction. "She's a major movie star on Earth-756G." "G? So she used to be a *man*?" "Yes. Amazing what a Genderwave can do, isn't it? If we already have a NESS in orbit it doubles the number of faces we can harvest from an Earth, too." With the thousands of bodysuits they manufacture every month Bodysuit Division has an insatiable appetite for individual new faces for them, faces our many NESSes provide. "It doesn't always double them," I said. "No, not always," she agreed. It had happened before I was born, but she actually remembered it, the Earth that was destroyed by the arrival of its Genderwave. It happened in October 1962, during what's known as the Cuban Missile Crisis. At the point at which tensions were at their highest and nuclear war seemed imminent, the Genderwave appeared to the west of Iceland. Three hours later it swept over the east coast of the United States, switching everyone's genders. Given the fraught political atmosphere this was seen as a direct assault on American manhood and proof that the Soviet Union had terrifying capabilities far beyond what anyone had realised. And so the US president pressed the button, the Soviets responded, and a thermonuclear holocaust ensued. "In this bodysuit you'll be swatting off men like flies," said Rachel. "That's what I'm worried about," I replied. And yet when Grant had come up to me at the wedding I had gone weak at the knees. The attraction between us had been both powerful and immediate. Testament to that fact is that the wedding was eight months ago and we're still together. * Isaac Questor: The morning after my daughter's little aquatic demonstration, I woke in my crib as I always did and smiled up into Nursey's face, squirming happily as she lifted me out of it. "Good morning, princess," she said, kissing my forehead, "did my precious baby have a nice restful sleep? Of course she did." Just as the chamber in which the nursery resided had been carved out by robo-builders so everything within it - the giant crib, playpen, and toys, along with all my oversized baby clothes - had been manufactured by robots. The nursery was my sanctuary, and only I knew it existed. Soon I'd have to crawl back out through the hatch, regretfully shed my bodysuit, and emerge into the world once again as the powerful, patrician figure of Isaac Questor, but there was one last pleasurable thing to come before then. Nursey removed my pacifier and lifted me up to her exposed breast. As always we were angled so that I could watch the monitor mounted on the wall while she fed me, a monitor which turned itself on automatically at that point. This was one of the more pleasant ways to view a morning news briefing. Not, however, this morning. A man and woman appeared on the screen standing next to each other in what I recognized as my study in the mansion above. The woman was Rachel and he was... me. My jaw dropped, releasing the nipple I'd been sucking on. "I'm pleased to announce that after many months of secret negotiations I have reached an agreement with my daughter for her to assume full control of QuestorCorp. She's run our bodysuit division for decades and we both feel the time is right for me to step aside and for her to take over the running of Many Worlds. Given all the dirty tricks that have attended corporate successions in the past, I'm sure my fellow heads of megacorps and others will be wondering if I've been drugged, hypnotised, or otherwise coerced, but I assure you that's not the case. If it was it would already have been flagged by my monitor disc and the alarm sounded. Oh, and those with the power to do so who even now will be confirming the disc's location to assure themselves I'm not an imposter will confirm it's right here, where it should be. As for the future, I'll be retiring to my mansion and staying out of the public eye." Then it was Rachel's turn to speak. "Having access to all those other Earths has given us so much," she said, "but it has also taken something from us, too. We used to have our own art and music, our own fashion, our own culture, but now we slavishly copy those of the other Earths to the extent that someone from one of those worlds would feel right at home with our music and our fashions, if not our technology. The last time any of us produced something truly creative was shortly after the Cure, which is also when we first discovered the means to access other Earths. Many believe that something about the Cure itself stunted our artistic creativity and turned us into the copyists we are today. I don't believe that. I believe instead it was easy access to other Earths making us lazy. To that end one of my first acts as the new head of QuestorCorp will be the funding of a global initiative to develop the creativity I believe still lies within our young people." My study was directly over the nursery which is why the monitor disc would register me as being there. This was not just corporate succession but an outright corporate coup. "They're not going to get away with this!" I said, my fury rising. "Put me down on the floor, Nursey, so I can crawl out of here." She did as I ordered, but instead of putting me on the floor near the hatch she lowered me into the playpen. "Nursey?" I said, uncertainly. "What are you doing?" "That nasty show has upset you," she explained, leaning over and ruffling my hair, "so here's something nicer for you to watch." The image on the screen switched to a TV show for toddlers from one of the other Earths, something called 'Teletubbies'. "There, that's much better, isn't it?" she said, smiling as she put my pacifier back in my mouth. "I need to sleep for a while now so you play quietly with your toys, there's a good girl." So saying she went over to her chair, sat in it, and then powered down. I'd been too stunned by this to react so far, but now I shook myself out of my stupor. Something had obviously gone seriously wrong with Nursey's AI so I blinked three times to call up my menu in order to run a diagnostic and find out what. Nothing happened. I tried again, but no matter how many times I tried I couldn't call up the menu. And if I couldn't summon it I couldn't get out of my bodysuit. As the full enormity of my predicament dawned on me so I hugged my rag doll tight to me and sucked on my pacifier furiously. I was trapped here. I'm not sure how many hours later it was that Nursey finally powered up again, but when she did I received the shock of my life. Her hair had turned red and she now had Rachel's face. "Hello, father!" she said, grinning. "My, don't you look adorable!" "Rachel? How are you doing this?" "I'm using that consciousness projection system you were so dismissive of. After studying it fully we discovered that with a little tweaking it could be used not just to ride a human mount but also to take over from an AI, such as the one in this robot. We couldn't get the projection rig set up in the mansion before this or I'd have been here earlier. Carl makes rather a good Isaac Questor, doesn't he? But then he's been studying you and getting your mannerisms down for several months now, and that bodysuit of his is *perfect*." "But.. but this nursery is secret! No one else should know it even exists. How...?" "Robin Dukayne." "He betrayed his corporate loyalty oath?" "He can't, not knowingly, but that doesn't mean I couldn't use him as a Trojan horse. The bodysuit I gave him contained surveillance nanobots that burrowed into his skin when he wore it, anaesthetising as they went so he felt nothing. When he then replaced that one with his regular bodysuit and went to his job at Many Worlds this enabled them to escape detection during the standard entry scan. When you next called him into your office he breathed the nanobots out as you conversed. These attached themselves to your clothing and were eventually carried by you to here where they then sent images back to me before expiring. Imagine my surprise when I viewed those images. The next time I was with Robin Dukayne I infected him with a second wave of nanobots programmed with very specific tasks. These got to you the same way the first wave had, then they infected your bodysuit and your robot, granting me control as they were designed to do." I gulped, gazing through the imprisoning bars of the playpen and knowing I was now entirely at Rachel's mercy. "This really is quite lovely," she said, looking around the nursery approvingly. "I can see myself spending quite a bit of time here when I'm not either working or enjoying myself with Robin Dukayne. Ah, sweet Robin! The bodysuit I gave him was also coated inside with a thin, bio-engineered gel, one I'd first tested out on his father. When absorbed into the skin it makes someone powerfully attracted to the musk given off by the person whose DNA it had been primed with. In Robin's case that was my DNA. Y'see, when I visited that other Earth a couple of decades to observe its Genderwave, I also field-tested the latest prosthetic penis we hoped to fit in new bodysuits, one that was designed to bring its female wearer to full orgasm as well as whoever she was pleasuring. It exceeded expectations and gave me the best orgasm of my life, one enhanced by the knowledge that the woman I was screwing had been a man only days before. For some reason I found that a terrific turn on, and fucking men in female bodysuits while wearing a male bodysuit myself has been my sexual preference and greatest pleasure ever since. When I'm Grant Quartermayne and he's the delectable Mitzi, Robin can't get enough of me. Which is also how I infected him with the second wave of nanobots, of course. Think of it as sexually-transmitted espionage. The next step is for Robin to abandon his male identity completely and become Mitzi full time, which I think I'll be able to convince him to do quite soon." "Does he know who Grant really is?" "Of course not, that's part of the turn on for me. And this nursery is both the answer to another need of mine and payment for what you did to me." "What did I do to you?" I asked, terribly afraid I knew what her answer would be. "You persuaded me to get the treatment that halted our aging before I'd had any children, later claiming that at the time you didn't know it would leave us sterile. I now know that's a lie. When I found the records that proved you did know, it left the question of why - why had you done this to me? And the answer, as it always is with you, was succession. If you were going to potentially live for ever the last thing you wanted was more young Questors to challenge your position, isn't that right?" I said nothing, but could feel myself blushing guiltily. "Sexual practices aside, I'm still a woman and I get broody sometimes," she said. "Coming here after a hard day, taking over from the AI and relaxing with my little girl is going to be good for me in so many ways, I think. It will definitely provide great stress relief." "Your little...! Look, if you think I'm going to..." I said, which were the last words I ever spoke. What emerged from my mouth after that were the gurgles and other noises a baby makes before it learns to talk. Somehow, Rachel had hacked my bodysuit's voice modulator. No matter what I tried to say all that came out was 'baby talk'. "There, that's much better," she said, lifting me out of the playpen. "But no more breast-feeding for baby. That wouldn't do, oh no that wouldn't do at all. From now on it's the bottle for you, young lady. And best of all is that because you don't age you get to make up for what you did to me by being my sweet little baby girl for ever." From somewhere she produced a bottle of warm milk and, cradling me in her arms, proceeded to feed me, cooing contentedly all the while. I'd wanted to make my daughter happy, truly I had, but not like this, NOT LIKE THIS! ******** The End. ******** Notes: 1. Isaac Questor and Earth Zero first appeared in MANY WORLDS INC: SWITCH WORLD (2005), Rachel Questor in GENDERWAVE: THE ASTRONAUTS (2023), and Many Worlds Inc in FINDING JANINE (2003). 2. This tale takes place before the events of THE CONFERENCE REVISITED. 3. So that in future I can find which one it was, I'll just mention here that this was my 200th posted piece of fiction on FM.