Evolution / 7

 

“I don’t know about you, Dara, but I’m already a bit tired of being a

‘lower life form’”, Marcy noted.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry...   Here I am holding something you need very much inside of me, and I haven’t thought to offer it to you.   Would you care to partake in my ‘bodily fluids’ so you can begin your mission?”

 

“Gee, Susan, I don’t think there’s a more elegant way to ask if you can pee on someone.   I suppose that Dara and I will have to accept your offer.   Where would you like to perform this ‘ceremony’?”

 

“Don’t ask me.   I don’t know where we’re supposed to go.   I thought you

knew the inside of this place.”

 

“Sorry.   The bathroom’s right through there.”

 

“Oooh; isn’t this a big moment in history?   Shouldn’t we have pictures

or something?” Karen asked.

 

“Good idea, Karen.”, Marcy replied.   Susan made a funny face at the

thought.

 

“I’ll run down to the media center and grab a camera,” Karen said.

“I’ll be right back.   Wait for me!”

 

“Bring Susan something to drink, if you would.   We need to keep her

fluids up–I don’t know if she can do both of us right now.”

 

“I am pretty full,” Susan answered.   “I haven’t gone to the bathroom all day.   I used to dread having to sit down to do it.   Now I kind of like it!”

 

“Atta girl”, Karen said, leaving the room.   She returned minutes later with a professional minivideo camera and a bottle of juice for Susan.   Marcy was first.   All four headed into the bathroom, Karen with the camera.   Marcy took her place in the tub, and Susan awkwardly climbed in after her, finding a place for her feet to go.   She half-squatted.

 

“Like this?” she asked.

 

“Spread your knees a bit, so it won’t run down your legs.   Like I did

when I peed on you, remember?”

 

Susan flashed back to that fateful moment, then squatted down a bit.   She felt something strange happen between her legs; it was the sensation CHAR BACof her labia parting for the first time.   “Wow...” she exclaimed, feeling the air against her like this; running a finger between her legs, she felt her own warmth, and dampness.   She looked up at Marcy.

 

“Nice pussy,” Marcy smiled.   “Might I have a lick before you do your

business?”

 

“That does it!”, said Dara, who put the camera down.   “Here we are about to make history, and Marcy’s tongue has to get into the act.   Now I’ll have to edit out all this smut.”

 

Susan responded quietly.   “Hmm... I seem to remember being urinated on

by a particular female without being offered a ‘lick’ first.”

 

Dara laughed.   “Way to go!   Give her what she’s really got coming!”

 

“I don’t know...” Susan said, as she squatted over Marcy’s face.

“Maybe a lick would be nice, or, perhaps...”

 

“You wouldn’t...” was all that Marcy could suddenly manage.

 

“Here goes nothing”, Susan said, taking a deep breath.   Nothing happened for several tense seconds–the future of womanhood again seemed caught in the balance–and finally, Susan’s pee began to flow from her young pussy.   It took less than a minute for Marcy to become completely saturated.

 

“Wow,” Dara said.   “Susan really soaked you well.   What’s it feel

like?”

 

“Delicious,” came Marcy’s reply.   “Hot, slippery, and I can feel my skin tingle.   She tastes very strong–she hasn’t had enough to drink today.” Marcy lifted her head and kissed Susan between the legs, licking her clean.   “My skin is tingling.”

 

“Well, Susan, did you save anything for me?” Dara asked.

 

“Better let me have that juice first.   I don’t have enough control yet

to stop like you two can.”

 

Marcy sat, immersed in Susan’s pee, for several minutes.   Karen returned the camera; Susan drank the juice Karen had brought;   Marcy showered and dried off.   Tired, the four decided to climb into bed for a while; Susan promised to wake Dara up when she was ready to pee again.   Karen slept next to Marcy, who seemed totally unconscious.   Dara was next, and Susan cuddled up to her.

 

A few hours later, Susan prodded Dara awake.   The two slipped from the room quietly as not to wake Marcy or Karen.   They disappeared into the bathroom, closed the door, and Susan did her business on Dara’s waiting body.   Several minutes later, the two of them were clean and dry, Susan’s bladder now completely empty and Dara now experiencing the tingle.   They slipped back into bed.

 

The next morning, Dara and Marcy left.   “You’ll know if we were successful.   Pray for us.”   They had each had one final medical examination on their way out.   Karen took Marcy, dressed in robe only, three floors down to the media center, a large room filled with video and communications equipment.   They watched various monitors to see Marcy and Dara being loaded directly into the back of a large truck up on Industrial Avenue.   The view caught a bit of the inside of the truck, which seemed to be dingy and full of boxes.   These swung aside to reveal a comfortable seating area, however.   The two climbed into the truck, and the door lowered.   A minute later the truck left the dock.   Next stop: the airport.

 

“Ingenious, isn’t it?” Karen asked of Susan.   “Just one sneaky way to get large numbers of women into and out of this complex without attracting attention to the place.   On the outside, that looks just like a standard delivery truck.”

 

“How big is this ‘complex’?”

 

“Well, since you ask, it’s 11 stories underground.   The auditorium and main office you’ve already seen.   There is housing, kitchen, laboratories, libraries, classrooms, and more.   This is the media center–where we monitor all sorts of broadcasts, produce our own material, and so on.   When we’re holed up here, it’s our link with the world.   These people–and our ‘operatives’ across the world–will be monitoring the airwaves to see when this story first breaks.   Anyway, we all have the run of the whole place–we don’t keep secrets from each other–so you can feel free to explore everything, and ask anybody any questions you might think up.   That’s one of the best things here–we’re really a very well-knit group.   We believe that all women would be like this, if it weren’t for the negative influence that men have had on our society.   It’s all part of the experience.   We’ll have a meeting tomorrow to arrange the next stage of our plans here.   Today, however, we get to relax and have fun.   I’ll take a little time this afternoon to start teaching you about clothing, makeup, and the other things you’ll need to look normal outside of this place.”

 

“You know, I’ve never understood makeup.   It seems so... vain...”

 

“True, I agree.   Once we’ve achieved unity we’ll have no need for such things.   For now, though, you’ll need to learn how to fit in as a woman.   You haven’t had all those years with your mother teaching you these secrets.”

 

“But you have, Karen.   Just after we became sexual together, you always took pains to show me what it was like to be female.   You had me help with your panty hose–I’ve even put your tampons inside you--   Wait a minute, you knew all along.   That was all intentional, wasn’t it?   To get me used to all these feminine things you already knew I’d be surrounded with?”

 

Karen didn’t become the slightest bit defensive.   “Well, I can’t say I really KNEW you were going to become a woman–we didn’t know if it would work–but of course I knew of the project, and had reason to expose you to things that most men just ignore.   But I really did it because I liked sharing myself.   I always used to ask you what it felt like to be a man–because I’ve wanted to share you as well.   One reason we wanted you to be the first was because you maintained that interest–never biased, never discriminatory–you were sincerely interested in what women felt like.   And now you are one, and get to find out for real.   Until you became a girl, there’s just no way to really teach you everything, is there?”

 

“You did the best you could.   You know something, Karen?   I really

thank you for that.   You’ve always been great to me.”

 

“I couldn’t be as close as I wanted to, unfortunately.   I had to keep a little distance–and couldn’t share this fantastic secret–to prevent it from leaking out–and to avoid arousing any suspicions that something special was going to happen.   But all along, I knew–if I could have any partner in the whole world, it would be you.   I’m the only woman anywhere who knows what it was like to make love to your male body.”

 

“Maybe we should explore what it’s like now.”

 

“I’d like that,” Karen answered.   “Very much.   Of course, we have all

the time in the world now.   Once we’ve...”

 

“Karen?” Susan interrupted.   “Would you like to be next?   Can I share

these powers with you?   Today?”

 

“Susan...     I’d love it.   I was hoping you’d ask.   Just tell me when

you’re ready and I’ll lie down between those gorgeous legs anytime.”

 

“I think I’m ready now.”

 

They went to Karen’s room.   In minutes, it was over.   Karen had the tingles for several minutes, and then took Susan down to the cafeteria for a late breakfast.   On the way back, they stopped at the communications room.   The monitors displays various pictures; broadcast television, satellite transmissions, and two news wires.   A different crew of women were on duty now, keeping an eye on the display.   “Anything yet?” Karen asked of them.

 

“Dara made it to San Francisco successfully and has already done it with the first three people in her network.   We won’t be hearing from her again for a while.   Marcy’s plane hasn’t arrived yet.   She’s due in Tokyo this evening.”

 

“See, it’s started already, Susan,” Karen whispered.   “They’ll ‘infect’ a few dozen women in San Francisco, and by this afternoon most of those women will be scattering to different cities.   The early stages are still critical, and we need to spread as quickly as we can.   By the time the world’s male population figures out what’s going on, we need to be very well dispersed.     That way quarantines, blockades, even a widespread attack won’t stop us.”

 

“You’re not expecting major violence, are you?   I can imagine that the

men of the world will be mighty mad when they first hear of...”

 

“No, no.   Two sides to that plan.   First of all, we have women in fairly high places that are on our side.   Second, we’re scheming that by the time they learn about this, their best individual and collective strategy will be simply to cooperate.   They can’t stop us without hurting themselves.   They’ll need to be told that this isn’t a local event–then they’ll realize that it’s hopeless.”

 

“Aren’t other women likely to resist?   What about the married women who

want to keep their husbands?”

 

“That’s OK.   We may even have several generations of men left still to come, while there’s still women left that can bear male children.   But they won’t be in any significant number.   In our studies so far, most women wouldn’t mind losing their ability to bear male offspring; even though some will want to keep their male partner intact.   Any woman who’s ever been oppressed in any way will certainly want this new ability to defend oneself.   We’re also predicting that nearly 30% of the male population will voluntarily want to become female, given the advantages.   There’s a whole library filled with the work we’ve done; you should take some time and explore it.”

 

“There’s just too much to do!” cried Susan.

 

“Of course.   You came into this, by definition, at the most critical

moment.   It will get better.”

 

The meeting the next day was held in the auditorium and discussed the prearranged plans for handling the media.   Lisa would be making an official statement, and would interviewed by a male New York newscaster that they’d contact once the news was “out”.

 

Susan spent most of her time with Karen, learning from her.       They examined Susan’s developing genitals in a mirror so Susan could learn about herself; Her labia had darkened a bit, and could now be separated completely.   Karen slid one finger between Susan’s legs, and both gasped at the feeling as it slid into Susan’s newly-formed vaginal opening.   Her urethral opening was only barely visible with close inspection; it was a tiny spot just above the entrance to her vagina.   Susan’s breasts seemed to be swelling a bit.   Whenever either of them needed to pee, they told Lisa, who joined Susan the first time, and afterwards directed another woman to join her.   The “epidemic” spread quickly to most of the women in the complex.   Once everyone had gotten it, many would leave to start spreading it outside the complex.

 

Karen and Susan decided to spend part of the evening in the complex’ library, the storehouse of research, simulation, and project results, years of philosophical debate, and meeting minutes.   The library occupied one of the bottommost floors of the complex, and took up much of the floor despite the fact that most of the records were computerized; there were quite a number of library terminals, as well as simple living space where the researchers could study or hold discussions.   A doorway led out to a small lab and the stairways up; the only other door led down to a storage area and emergency exit stairway back to the surface.

 

The library was vacant at the time the two women arrived; the activity upstairs was keeping everyone quite busy.   Another woman followed them in.

 

“Alyssa?” Susan asked.   Alyssa was one of the marketing assistants at George’s former workplace, and the first such person that Susan had seen here.

 

“Susan?   Wow...   That’s really you?   In person?   Wow, George, as a girl

you look very amazing...”

 

The conversation went on for several minutes before Alyssa had to tear herself away; she had been tasked with bringing up one of the few boxes of informational brochures that the group had prepared ahead of time, and the boxes were in the storage room.

 

“Stop by and visit later!”, Susan called after her.

 

“I’d love to!” responded Alyssa.   She was one of the people who hadn’t

been granted her new powers yet.

 

Karen led Susan through the volumes of information that were available, pointing out those things that she should spend time reading first.   Needless to say, it was too much.   Karen sat down to read some light fiction; Susan sat at a terminal and soon found herself going through some of the research notes.

 

What she found was startling.   The amount of work that these women had to go through to find and activate these new capabilities was amazingly little; switching on particular genes, a few flipped ‘bits’ seemed to cause these powers to appear in neat, simple groups.   Ordinarily, one would expect to spend years simulating millions of DNA combinations to find one that acted remotely similar to a trait one was interested in activating; yet in this case, even the early simulations led to powers that were almost identical to those being searched for.   No wonder it all was possible in just over ten years; it had fallen into their laps.   So few changes were necessary that–no wonder it was so easy to spread the capabilities to other women.

 

Susan cross-referenced from the genetic research notes to the corresponding philosophy and biology studies.   Here she found exactly what she was looking for, and was shocked anyway.   The typical human DNA pattern–the result of thousands of years of human evolution, the changing blueprint of a successful species until medical intervention shut the evolutionary process down–had likely been poised on the brink of exactly this turn of events all along.   Susan remembered the words:   “A successful species tends to become single-sexed.”   Another few hundred years and odds were that some random mutation might have expressed at least one of these new traits in some female child somewhere on the planet.   Sure, some fine-tuning had been done, but it appeared that all that these women had done was to advance what might have been a natural evolutionary step.

 

In the storage room one floor down, Alyssa finally found the box of booklets she had been looking for.   They described in some detail the “evolutionary” changes that were going on, and was a guide for owners of these new capabilities.   It was a very condensed version of what Susan was reading, and included phone numbers of what would be regional “support” groups for people who wanted to know more about what was going on.   They couldn’t distribute any of these brochures yet, for obvious reasons, but shortly, once the project was a success, the group had predicted an intense demand for this information; the few boxes of such information that the women had printed in advance was destined for press release packets.

 

Alyssa left the box flaps open, and headed for the the wire stairs leading to the platform above, where the door to the library was.   A strange sound stopped her.   She stood absolutely still.   The sound was coming from the emergency stairway; a high buzzing sound, the sound of a lock being drilled.