Previously…

I slipped into bed, the lights faded again and I shut my eyes.

‘Goodnight, Rebecca.’

‘’Night,’ I replied sleepily.

I shut my eyes but for some reason could not sleep for thinking about my parents. Something was still at the back of my brain and I just couldn’t grasp it and then my eyes snapped open. I nearly gasped but just put my hand over my mouth as I didn’t want Helena to hear me as I had no idea how well the room and in particular I, was being monitored.

I was blessed with an almost photographic memory and I could recall almost word for word what my father had said. My Dada said that I should contact Auntie Connie in Brighton. “She’ll look after your interests. You know what she’s like–a bit scatty, but her heart’s in the right place and she’ll look over you and protect you, whatever happens. She knows about all this and is expecting a call”.

Why I didn’t take all of that in at the time of my conversation with him, I don’t know. Maybe my being upset at everything that had happened might have made me not pay as much attention as I should have at the time.

I did have an Auntie Connie, but she lived in Bournemouth–not Brighton–and I had never met her so had no idea what she was like; but Dada said that I knew what she was like. Was there some hidden message there?

Dada never would make a mistake like that; so if it wasn’t a mistake, what was he trying to tell me? Was it some sort of warning?

And now the story continues…

Suddenly I felt very tired and slipped off to sleep, wondering vaguely if the medication that I had been given contained some sort of sedative…

When I awoke the next morning, I felt that all was right with the world.

‘Good morning Rebecca and how are you today?’

I stretched in my bed, still feeling quite relaxed and contented.

‘Okay thanks, Helena. Have I got to get up?’

‘Well, it might be a good idea, breakfast is in forty minutes.’

After another long stretch, I got up and padded into the shower room. I felt that I should have remembered something. It was like a bee buzzing inside my head, but the feeling soon passed and I carried on with what I was doing.

I sat on the toilet and held what was left of my shrinking penis so that I wouldn’t splatter everywhere. After finishing my business and before the auto-flush worked I glanced down and noted that my urine seemed quite dark, a reddish brown. This didn’t bother me much as I assumed that it was just a sign that my promised transformation was continuing.

Slipping off my nightie, I put it down the chute and then went for a shower. I put the shower cycle on morning wakeup and was quickly more or less awake but still a bit fuzzy around the edges. After the drying cycle, I left the cubicle and returned to the bedroom. My school uniform was on the bed, which had been changed and made while I was in the shower. I thought little of this, being grateful that everything was ready for me.

As I dressed, I remembered something. ‘Helena, any news of my parents?’

‘We have not heard directly, but news has come in via the Swedish embassy that everything is starting to return to normal and that communications will be re-established within the next day or two.’

I felt a brief annoyance that Helena had not given me this information as soon as I awoke, but was in such a happy mood, I just shrugged my shoulders and started to look forward to my day ahead.

I dressed almost without thinking, the only thing of note was that my bra was a size larger and my breasts seemed bigger and stuck out a bit more. The areolas appeared larger and darker than I remembered and I smiled at the thought that every day I was getting closer and closer to being the real girl I wanted to be.

As I put on my neckerchief and tying it first time perfectly, I smiled, thinking that I was now so comfortable in the girls’ uniform, I had almost forgotten what it was like to wear boys’ clothes. In fact the thought of wearing anything boyish, made me feel slightly sick.

Once again, there was something on the edge of my consciousness that was niggling me but it was like a mist–something that I could not grab hold of and think about coherently. I brushed my hair as best as I could, then I spritzed myself with the delicate intoxicating fragrance that I now loved so much and then I was ready for the world again.

I met Bethany and Davina in the hallway and after group hugs we went to breakfast. We discussed what was on the agenda today and after checking our mini uPads, we saw that we had more induction this morning followed by another period with the V-R helmets in the afternoon.

In next to no time we were in the designated classroom and as we sat at our pods, the screen lit up and the headmistress appeared. She was all smiles and impeccably dressed, as usual.

‘Hello, girls, we are very happy with your progress and today it falls upon me to give you a bit more insight as to how things are going in your quest to become girls and how so much rests with you in these exciting times.

‘You all know how many countries are in turmoil over the blight that has befallen the world. As part of the Phoenix Project, you are at the forefront in the treatment and cure of the genetic time bomb that has gripped the human race for so many years. The world is watching us and hoping against hope that your treatment will provide us with an answer to all our prayers.

‘It is true to say that some countries are on the brink of collapse because of the genetic crisis and the financial turmoil over the last five years. Some countries with populations that have deep religious beliefs cannot reconcile the fact that in the future, the key movers and shifters by necessity, will be women not men. Societies will, by force of circumstances, become matriarchal rather than patriarchal. Women will hold the power by the very fact that they–and only they–have the key to survival. The boys that have been chosen to transform into girls have been picked for certain characteristics, among them being intelligence, being strong willed, winners–all the things that pick them out as survivors. What is said about survival of the fittest is as true today as when it was first uttered by Herbert Spencer after he read Darwn’s famous work, On the Origin of the Species in the mid nineteenth century.¹

‘We will go more into such matters at a later date, but be assured, as the pioneers of this new treatment, when and I say when rather than if; when the first female child is born either here or the other special centres in England, Scotland, Wales or Eire you will be fáªted as heroes of the world.

‘Now to get down to basics, you will have all felt changes occurring in your bodies. We have highly sophisticated diagnostic and checking systems incorporated into your beds. This is done to ensure that you are kept safe and well at all times and to monitor your exciting changes. I can say that you are all on schedule to be fully assimilated within a short period of time. You may feel some aches and pains and you will definitely notice the changes taking place in your body. If you are in any discomfort, you must tell your ‘puter who will assist you in any way. Now I will pass you over to your mistress for today, Ms Park who will start your femininity training. It is not enough for you to have the body of a girl, you must look, feel, act and be a girl in every way. You will want your husband’s to feel that they have a real lady as a partner and not just a person who used to be a boy. Pleasing your husband is an important part of being a woman and a happy husband is a compliant one.

‘Remember my door is always open and if you have any concerns you must either speak to your helper, one of the staff or myself. We want, no need you to be perfectly happy and we will do all we can to assist you on your journey to womanhood.’

The screen was replaced by the school crest and then slid down out of the way leaving just the glass ’puter desk with the interactive touch screen.

I wasn’t entirely sure whether I wanted to please my husband–or any man for that matter–then I just relaxed, realising that I was being silly and there was nothing to worry about.

While we had been watching the head mistress, Ms Park had arrived and was standing in front of her lectern. She was wearing the same clothes as the other teachers and looked smart in her cream coloured business suit with tailored jacket and skirt, white silk blouse, black stockings and black heels. She was devastatingly beautiful with a short black hair styled in a bob. She had the look of the oriental about her and her skin was flawless and her eyes, dark, and almond shaped. She was not smiling however.

‘Well, girls…I say girls, but you have a long way to go. Miranda, you are slouching. Therese, do not sit like that with your legs open - I can see your panties. Rebecca, I assume that you brushed your hair today, but it looks like you used a rake. Sarah, you have been told, no makeup in school time––’

Two hours later we left the classroom with our ears still resounding from Ms Park’s rather intensive way of showing us the error of our ways. Evidently, I walked like a boy, talked like a boy and sat like a boy. This was shown to me using vids‘, ’puter reconstructions and rather comical interpretations by the theatrical and daunting Ms Park.

I was let off comparatively lightly; a few of the girls had cried after being shown their defects in front of the whole class. I didn’t cry, but must admit that I felt like it at times.

It was a decidedly relieved trio that sat down for lunch in a ladylike manner, took our pills and ate our food as daintily as possible.

After lunch it was back to the pods where, once again, we were transported via our V-R helmets, out of our enclosed classroom and into a world of wonderful colour. This time it was I who was riding with the dolphins, feeling and experiencing the wonderful ocean, as on the back of the astonishing creature, we leapt and dived in the warm waters. I felt the spray on my face and saw the breathtaking corals and brightly coloured fish as we swam in the deep blue sea. I wasn’t just watching it, I was experiencing it.

I awoke, as before, to the sound of Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony and stretched. My helmet had been removed and I felt very relaxed. All thoughts of the morning’s traumatic lesson with Ms Park had left my head.

There was something I had to ask Helena about, but I couldn’t remember what it was. I shook my head, thinking that it would probably come back to me and thought no more about it.

Looking at my finger watch, I was amazed that three and a half hours had passed! We went to the dining room and had something to eat. We were all tired and decided that although it was still a bit early, we would return to our rooms.

I hugged the other girls’ goodbye at my door and went in my room.

‘Hello Rebecca. Have you had a nice day?’

‘Yes, thanks.’ I yawned. ‘I am very tired though.’

‘That is normal. The accelerated treatment does that for you. Once the treatment is completed, you will have a lot more energy and feel wonderfully fit and well.’

‘I think that I’ll get changed and go to bed.’

‘Good idea. An early night will do you good and set you up for tomorrow.’

I changed into a shortie nightie as it was rather warm and after using the toilet, washing my hands and face, and brushing my teeth, I got into bed and decided to watch the news before going to sleep. I was just about to turn the vid on when Helena spoke up.

‘Don’t forget your medication.’

‘Sorry.’ I replied, getting up and going to the serving hatch where the clear mint flavoured liquid in a glass and three pills awaited me.

Soon I was back under the sheets. I stared at the vid. ‘News on, please, Helena.’

‘Sorry, Rebecca, the news channel is down at the moment.’

‘Oh, there isn’t a problem, is there?’

‘No, dear; it’s down for maintenance. It will be back up tomorrow. Would you like to watch a film?’

‘No thanks.’ I yawned, ‘I’m a bit tired anyway. I think that I’ll go to sleep now. Goodnight Helena.’

‘Goodnight. Sweet dreams, Rebecca.’

The lights faded and I fell asleep almost instantaneously.

I was travelling through the air on the back of a condor. Beneath me I could see the Earth, many miles below. We travelled a great distance in the blink of an eye. Soon we were over India and the bird swooped down–My white dress was billowing and flapping around me and my hair was getting into my eyes. As I brushed it aside with my hand as a city came into view. I saw fighting in the streets: people fighting hand to hand and there was terrible bloodshed with bodies everywhere. I heard gunfire and explosions all around but my eyes were fixed on a building shrouded in smoke that I vaguely recognised. We flew lower and I could see the big building more clearly. I recognised it as the embassy where my parents were. We got closer and then to my horror, the building exploded. I put my hands up to my face and felt myself falling off the back of the giant condor––

I woke up screaming realising that I wasn’t in my bed; I was somewhere that appeared to be an operating theatre. I was on a hard, but padded table. There were people around wearing scrubs and face masks. I couldn’t move. I glanced over at the wall and saw a picture; it was the Mona Lisa. In my confusion I wondered why the picture was there.

I wasn’t strapped down or anything, but my body felt strangely numb and I could only move my head slightly. I was aware of a mask over my mouth and nose and the cool dry air. Voices were raised and I could see some eyes that were vaguely familiar–

‘Put her out, quickly–’

My vision began to darken at the edges and my eyes drooped. I could say nothing and could feel nothing and then I could sense nothing––

It was morning when I awoke again. Rubbing my eyes, I yawned and looked across to the window. There was a vid of an orchard with flowers and green wavy grass. I could hear birds twittering and the sound of the breeze at it wafted gently through the grass.

I vaguely remembered a nasty dream that I had had but like many dreams it faded into nothingness. One thing I did remember though was the wonderful time I had on the dolphin yesterday. It made me smile and want more and more experiences like that. I was really beginning to enjoy it here and couldn’t wait until I was a complete girl with six petals.

‘Good morning, Rebecca.’

‘Hello, Helena.’

‘Did you sleep well?’

‘I think I had a nasty dream, but I can’t remember anything about it now.’

‘Well, you know if you have any problems like that, you can speak to your personal counsellor.’

‘I know but I don’t want to make a fuss. It was only a dream.’

I scratched my breasts absentmindedly, noting in passing that they seemed a little larger this morning. I got up and went to the shower room. Sitting on the loo, I put my hand down to hold my penis while I went–I really hated making a mess. It was getting so small now; it was almost flush with my body. Smiling, I wondered how long my outie would take to change into an innie–not very long at this rate!

I did the necessary and then got up as the loo began to auto flush. Before flush completed I noticed that, once again, the water seemed a brownish-red in colour. I shrugged as a thought came into my head that I shouldn’t worry about such things.

I removed my nightie and put it down the chute, then before taking my shower, I crossed to the full length mirror and took a long stare at myself. The changes in me were very apparent now. What fat that I had, was redistributing itself to make my body more feminine. My buttocks, hips and thighs seemed to be more padded than before and my pert breasts looked quite natural on the feminised body.

My nose seemed smaller and thinner. My eyebrows looked higher and thinner. My hair was soft, lush and getting longer every time I saw it. All in all, I was well on the way to becoming a real girl and I wondered what was happening inside me if the external signs were so dramatically different to before.

I turned around and then went to my bed, which had been made. As usual, my uniform was laid out for me and it took a matter of moments to get dressed. I was rather proud that I could put on my bra with no apparent effort and that my neckerchief no longer held any problems to me.

As I was now getting so quick in preparing myself for the day, I had a few minutes to spare. I had a funny metallic taste in my mouth and decided to have a drink while I waited for my friends to come and get me for breakfast.

‘Orange juice please,’ I said and then smiled and hummed to myself as I looked at a live vid feed on the window of Niagara Falls.

A few moments later I heard a soft chime and went to the hatch and picked up the glass of cold juice. The sides of the glass were slightly wet with condensation. I drank it down swiftly and was about to put it down when the glass slipped out of my hand and crashed to the floor.

‘Oh blast.’ I muttered as I kneeled down to pick up the shards of glass. I didn’t notice that the glass had gone everywhere when it shattered and my knee went directly onto a sharp piece, making me almost yell out.

But I didn’t. The sharp, stabbing pain did something to my brain. It was as if a curtain had been lifted and I instantly remembered the conversation that I had had with my father and the strange cryptic information about my aunt. Then I recalled the vivid nightmares that I had been having and that awful experience on the operating table.

‘Are you all right, Rebecca?’

‘Erm, yes, I broke a glass.’

‘Don’t worry; it will be cleared up for you. You weren’t hurt were you?’

‘No, just a tiny scratch on my leg.’

‘You must go to the medical centre so that they can have a look at it.’

‘It’s nothing.’ I said as I grabbed a tissue and put in over the bleeding cut.

‘Standing orders are for any injury–no matter how trivial–must be seen by the medical staff. The nurse is aware of the situation and is waiting for you.’

I didn’t argue because it would be fruitless.

‘All right, I’ll go. Can you tell my friends to go to breakfast without me?’

‘I have already informed them. I know that all this might seem silly, but you are living in a sterile environment and all accidents or illnesses must be monitored carefully. It’s for your own good.’

‘Where do I go then?’

‘Follow the yellow line outside and it will lead you directly to the medical facility.’

I picked up my shoulder bag and left my room. The pulsing line on the floor indicated the way I should go: according to the indicators, it was about three hundred yards away. As I walked, nodding to my fellow students as I passed them, my mind was on other things. I felt vulnerable and in some danger. My feeling was that I was being manipulated and things were happening that should not have been. I was now rather suspicious that I had not been able to speak to my parents. I did not want my mind messed with as well as my body. I had accepted–all be it reluctantly,–that I was well on the way to becoming a girl and that there was no turning back, but why did they need to manipulate my mind and keep me out of contact with my parents?

Were there others like me who felt that way and, if so, where were they?

I reached the medical facility and the doors swished open. As I entered, I saw several doors to my left and right. Straight in front of me was a desk, behind which sat a nurse in a crisp white uniform. She looked up and smiled as I approached.

‘Hi, Rebecca, hurt your leg have you?’

‘It’s nothing.’

‘We’ll just have a look at it to make sure. Would you like to go through that door and sit in the second room on your left? A doctor will come and see you there shortly.’

I smiled at her and went over to the door which slid open and let me through. I saw the room she mentioned and moved towards it, my heels clicking on the hard floor and echoing slightly as I walked. Glancing to the left I saw another door with a round glass window. I just glanced inside as I passed and almost stopped dead in my tracks. I recognised it. The room was the one in my dream–the operating theatre. I recognised it because there was a painting of the Mona Lisa on the wall––

____________________________
¹ –see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Survival_of_the_fittest

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing, help with the plot-lines and pulling the story into shape.