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Evolution/2
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Evolution / 2
George awoke lying on his back on a waterbed. He still seemed quite warm
and wet. Someone was in bed with him, talking to someone else. He
stretched a bit, and heard someone walking around the bed and climbing in
next to him.
"Welcome back", Marcy said quietly, looking in George's eyes. She put one
hand to his forehead, and looked across him to Dara. "I think it's over;
his temperature is almost back to normal." George realized that this
wetness was merely his own perspiration, thank goodness. Was this all
just a dream? No, he was awake, in a bed between two naked women. The
two who, in his dream, had... No, he thought, those incidents had really
happened.
"It's been two days," Dara told him, rolling over next to George such that
one breast squeezed against him. "You've had a bit of a temperature."
Marcy squeezed her naked body up to George as well. "Just your immune
system overreacting a bit. Of course, your own body was trying to fight
off the changes we're putting it through. All part of the plan. You'll
be a bit washed out for the next few days, at least, but quite alright.
We'll keep you here and watch over you."
He suppressed his initial reaction, and quietly he asked: "This is a one-
way trip, isn't it?"
Marcy fielded the question. "We hope so. Do you have any idea what's
happening to you?"
"You're doing something to my body. Some experiment. What is it, some
horrible virus or something? Do you two work for..."
Marcy answered. "No, not a virus. Nothing horrible. You think we'd be
lying here next to you if it were?"
Marcy leaned over George and said to Dara, "I guess we can tell him part
of it now."
Marcy questioned George again. "So, do you have a guess as to what's
going on?"
"You said something about changing my body..."
"Exactly. Into what, though?"
"I don't know." George had a guess, but was too embarrassed to say it.
Marcy nodded. "Okay. You're going to be a girl."
George thought that this was the hint that Dara gave him when she lifted
her stretch top, but he still couldn't believe it. Wide-eyed suddenly,
all he could say is "What??"
"Well, a woman like us, eventually, of course."
"So there were some kind of hormones... when you two... the other day..."
"When we peed on you? No, no hormones. We might be able to make a man
grow breasts with enough hormones, but that doesn't make you a girl. No,
it was a protein-- one that activated some genetic programming installed
into your body long before you reached puberty. You'll be a complete,
one-hundred-percent female."
George was still stunned. "Female?"
"Female. Breasts, vagina, ovaries. Every cell in your body will soon be
that of a female. What you're feeling now should be the remnants of the
'shock waves', as your male cells are being replaced by female cells, or
are being invaded and changed from within. That part's sort of like a
virus, I suppose. Our pee only turned it on."
George looked down at himself. He seemed normal outside, but did indeed
feel strange inside, as if he were just recovering from a long bout with
the flu. But there was a strangeness beyond this, as well. He couldn't
describe it quite yet. "How come your... urine... has this ability?"
"It was something we had to drink. Keyed to the injection that you had
when you were little. We'll give you the complete story... later."
Dara took over. "There will be things that are going to be confusing, or
difficult. But you'll have a lot of support during the transition. It's
quite an honor, actually; don't think of it as losing your manhood--
that's quite an overrated attribute, as I think you'll find. You have
quite a bit to look forward to."
George thought about this for a few minutes. "Assuming, for the moment,
that what you've been telling me is true, that you've found some miracle
way of turning men into women, what makes you think I want to be one?
What if I demand that you stop this right now? And if I insist on
keeping..." George reached down to make sure his male parts were still
there. They were, which cast more doubts in his mind. "...this, what
will you do about it?"
Dara smiled at him, and her hand joined his on his genitals. "George,
dear, I don't think you have a choice. We're feminizing you, and there's
nothing you can do to stop the process."
"But you can't get rid of..."
"This?" Dara said, squeezing him. "We don't have to. By now, almost
every cell in your body has two 'X' chromosomes, and a kind of growth
cycle is beginning. It won't be long before your body figures out which
parts belong and which don't. New parts will develop, old ones will be...
absorbed and disposed of."
Dara fingered his testicles, and gently pressed in on them. He felt two
"pops" between his legs, and she took her hands away from him.
"Voila", Dara said. "I'm sure that those will be one of the first things
to go, so let's make it easier."
George reached between his legs. Dara had pushed his testicles up inside
his body, where they hadn't been since early childhood, leaving his
scrotum empty. They wouldn't come back down. "What have you done?" he
shouted at her.
"Nothing your body wouldn't have done on it's own," said Dara. "And
nothing you can stop."
"Don't resist," Marcy said. "Don't resist the changes and new feelings.
It's very important. Explore, but don't fight to stay the way you are.
It will just make it more difficult."
George sighed, and collapsed back down, staring at the ceiling. "I can't
believe this."
"You will in time. Meanwhile, we'll take care of you. Is there anything
I can get you? Hungry? Thirsty?"
"Both. And I have to go to the bathroom."
"I'd imagine so! Dara, help him to the bathroom. I'll make us some
breakfast."
Marcy left through one door, while Dara helped George lumber into the
bathroom. It was harder than he expected to get up; he felt very much
washed out, and tired. Dara guided him to the toilet, where he sat, and
then closed the door for him, waiting outside. Upon his return,
Marcy was sitting at bedside with a platter of french toast, sausage,
milk, and orange juice.
"I'm sure that feels much better," Dara said. "By the way, you'll have to
get used to sitting down from now on. That's what girls do."
"I can stand if I want to!" complained George, who would have been too
tired to stand anyway. Dara had to help him back to the bed.
Dara giggled quietly to Marcy, whispering "Not for long!"
George crawled back into bed, falling asleep within minutes after he
finished eating.
A week went by, with George spending most of his time asleep. The women
fed him and took care of him, providing him with a TV during his few
wakeful hours. He asked for a phone, to call his workplace, and for a
moment actually suggested that he needed to get back to work.
"That isn't necessary. It's alright. We've taken care of everything,"
Marcy told him, in a sweet voice. "You just rest. Your body needs time
to rebuild itself.'
George found it best to deny, even to himself, that anything unusual was
happening. Only twice, when he was climbing back into bed after using the
bathroom, did he look at himself-- and even then, just quickly. He didn't
see any changes, but then he didn't really want to know.
On the eighth day, however, George did have a small surprise as he got up.
Hairs, tiny dark hairs, were all over the bedsheet. He discovered that he
had lost most of the hair on his chest, abdomen, and arms overnight. As
he brushed his hand down his chest, he did notice that he was definitely
shedding. His strength seemed to be returning, as he seemed more rested,
and this time he was determined to make it to the bathroom on his own,
shaking off Marcy's offer of assistance.
He did make it to the bathroom with no problems. This raised his
confidence, and now he felt energetic enough to prove a point. Rather
than closing the bathroom door, he left it open, figuring that if he had
watched (or, actually, participated) when both Marcy and Dara peed on him,
they could certainly watch him go. Rather than sit on the toilet, he
raised the seat, then looked behind him to see if the women were watching.
They were. Defiantly, he turned around and reached for his penis. It had
been shrinking slowly during the week, and was now very difficult for him
to hold onto. This bothered him, but he still attempted to deny it. He
tried to aim, but there wasn't much to aim with. He urinated, the stream
successfully reaching the toilet, and smiled, as if this was a major
accomplishment. When he turned his head so that the women could see this
defiant smile, his fingers slipped, and urine spattered the floor and ran
down his legs.
Both women ran over to him, and tried to soothe him as they cleaned him
up.
"It's okay," Marcy said. "This happens to all of us." She guided George
back to bed. "I remember, when I was little, that I saw a boy pee
standing up, and thought it was so neat... Anyway, if a boy could do it,
then I had to be able to, so I tried it the next day. I made such a mess!
Fortunately, my mother understood, and told me that it's a phase that all
girls have to go through. Just like you're doing."
"I doubt it's the same," grumbled George.
Marcy propped herself up next to him, sensing an interesting discussion in
the making. He didn't look back at her. Dara cleaned the bathroom floor.
"No, I can't imagine it's quite the same-- since you've at least had the
experience of peeing like a boy. I suppose having to change now would be
bothersome."
"I don't want to change," said George. His voice didn't sound quite
right, as if he was struggling to maintain the pitch.
"For heaven's sake, George, you're going to have to start accepting what's
happening to you. If a minor thing like having to pee sitting down is
something you can't take, I can't bear to think what you'll do when you
get your first period."
George's eyes widened, as he contemplated this.
"Oh, Relax! That won't be for quite a while yet. By then you'll be ready
for it. Most girls actually look forward to it; it's a sign of maturity,
of course." Marcy put a hand on his shoulder, and he turned to face her,
finally. "These little inconveniences are nothing compared to the
wonderful things you'll be able to feel, and do." She took his hand, and
placed it on her breast. "Imagine having these," she said. "Like Dara
suggested." She rubbed his hand against her, and obviously the sensation
started to get to her. "Imagine it. With you all the time. Imagine
taking your first baby to your nipples, and feeling it draw it's life from
you."
George closed his eyes, as he followed her instructions.
"Oh yes, babies. Imagine being able to create new life..." Marcy's hands
moved to George's abdomen. "Right from here. The miraculous moment when
you bring a new life into the world. It's hard to imagine how powerful
that vagina is, George. Hidden away all the time, but it means so much to
everyone. Even for life itself. We have quite a lot to show you,
George."
"But I like the way I am", said George, even though he himself no longer
really believed it.
Dara, who had been listening from the bathroom, spoke up. "Oh, George,
get a grip. The way you are now is the worst of both worlds. You can't
be feeling very good about the way you are right now, can you?"
George hesitated before making a major admission to himself. "Okay, the
way I *was*".
Marcy was very sweet about it. "Of course you did, George. You're a good
person with a healthy personality. It's good to be comfortable with the
body you have. You liked being a man; there's nothing wrong with that.
But it's over. You'll probably like being a woman even more..."
"It is NOT over!" George said, kicking the covers off of himself. He
half-sat up, to look at himself.
Marcy and Dara knew this as a good sign; he was finally willing to face
the truth.
George peered between his legs.
Marcy looked at Dara. "Could you bring in the mirror? The big one."
Dara nodded, and left the room.
Marcy sat and watch George inspect himself. His penis was nearly gone; it
was now just a small bump, as if only the head of it was visible, low on
his body. His scrotum, having been empty for some time now, had
tightened against his body, and was blending in to the skin around it,
which was beginning to become puffy. He looked up in despair at Marcy,
who poked her fingers down there. "Looks like this is where your urethral
opening stays; your clitoris, which is like most sensitive part of your
penis, will probably be right about here." She turned to him. "And you
can guess what this puffiness is for."
"Oh my God..." sighed George. Still he was intrigued, as he continued to
explore.
Dara brought in a full-length mirror, which was on rollers. Marcy sat up.
"Why don't you take a real look at yourself."
George couldn't wait to do just that. In front of the mirror, he took a
good look at his body. His torso and arms were hairless. His waist was
narrowing, and this was giving greater definition-- and an almost-female
look-- to his hips. He had lost a lot of weight. He hadn't shaved since
his capture, and still didn't need it. There was no denying it now.
He collapsed to the bed, crying. "I can't believe...."
His voice was wrong. This was a female voice, a woman's voice, a girl's
voice he was using. He tried to force a deeper sound: "I can't..."
He cried again. Marcy held him tight; Dara asked if there was anything
she could do. "It'll be alright," Marcy told both of them. "She just
needs some time. In little while, we'll get dressed and go out; that'll
be a good change of pace and will cheer things up. We'll be ready in
another day or so."
George, fortunately, didn't catch on that Marcy had referred to him with
the female pronoun.
It took over an hour for him to settle down; it was as the world was
crashing around him, as if his life was coming to an end. It was, at
least parts of it. A major portion of his life had already ended; but
something new was just beginning.
Later, they dressed to go out. George was given fairly gender-neutral
clothing-- blue jeans and a T-shirt-- that weren't his, since his old
clothes would hardly fit, but he had no complaints about it-- until he saw
the panties they had ready for him. "No... No..." was all he could say,
in an increasingly female voice, as they put them on him. He did nothing,
however, to prevent it, as he was still stunned. Dara sensed his grief.
"Relax. It's just underwear. I don't have men's underwear in your size.
Besides, you don't have the parts for it anymore."
It was true; the panties snugged tightly against his body, leaving no room
for the now-nonexistent male genitalia. He'd never considered that
before. The panties were pastel blue, soft cotton. He felt better when
they were out of sight underneath the jeans-- jeans which, fortunately,
had the more traditional front-zipper rather than the obviously feminine
side-zippers that Dara had.
Marcy whispered just to Dara. "We'll have to be careful for a while. She
needs to be reminded that she's a girl once in a while, but we don't want
to overwhelm her with it."
George looked at himself in the mirror. Even these gender-neutral clothes
couldn't quite hide his changing figure. His hair was thicker and longer,
though still cut in a masculine style. He had on (thank goodness!) no
makeup, and didn't have the bosom that Marcy and Dara each seemed so proud
of. However, it appeared that he'd pass for a young woman much more
easily than a male, he thought. This wouldn't be easy, and he wondered
what the women had in store for him.
They took him out of the bedroom for the first time. Outside was a simple
hallway, at one end of which was an open door to the featureless room
where he had been tied down, and where the two women had urinated on him,
changing him forever. He noted that the floor mat and tie-downs had been
removed. The room was obviously just some kind of storage closet, or
extra room, and now he saw one window in it which he hadn't noticed when
he was a captive there. There was a kitchen with a small table in it, a
closet, and a small living room which was mostly empty. Obviously, these
two didn't actually live here, George surmised. They probably rented it
just for this event.
The only door out was quite locked; the deadbolt had a key lock on both
sides, and looked new. This was obviously intended to prevent his escape.
But there was that window... No need for escape, though, if they were
going to knowing TAKE him outside...
"You mean we're going to go outside? And you're not going to handcuff me
or something?"
Marcy put her hands on her hips. "Hmm... Maybe just for fun...", she
contemplated, then smiled. "I see you noticed our locks. That was only
necessary in case you tried to escape before we... 'treated' you."
'Pissed all over me, you mean,' George thought to himself.
"Now, things are a bit different, as you've noticed. I doubt, given your
present state, that you could overpower either of us, but I'd hope you
don't want to run. Even if you could escape-- even if we let you go, you
can't escape the female body that's wrapping itself around you. Plus,
what are you going to do? Nobody will recognize you anymore. How could
you go back to your job? You need us; someone to help you learn about
your new body. And there's quite a lot to learn. Plus we have a few more
pleasant surprises for you."
George wasn't excited by the thought of yet more surprises, but what Marcy
said did make quite a bit of sense. They had taken him this far; now he
needed them. In less than two weeks, these two women had become his whole
world; the only ones who shared this terrible secret; the only ones that
could help him out of his confused, "halfway" state. Dara picked up a
small black pocketbook that had been hidden in the kitchen, and from this
produced a key with which she unlocked the door.
[continued]
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