Evolution / 4

 

Susan awoke from her nap at about 8 p.m.   Dara had brought some soup and crackers, which they ate, and had only light conversation.   Before going back to sleep, Susan needed to empty her bladder.   It would be the first time with her new parts.   She left the door open, and sat down.   Marcy and Dara were watching again, and smiled approvingly.   Susan reached down between her legs, and realized once again that there was no penis to aim.   George would have had to hold his penis down to prevent squirting the bathroom floor.   A momentary look of confusion crossed Susan’s face.   She had never done this before and didn’t quite know how she was supposed to avoid making a mess.   She looked up at the other women.   “I just...”

 

“Just pee”, Dara told her.   “You’re fine.   Just relax.   It’ll come.   You have no penis, but otherwise it should be the same.   You want some privacy?”

 

Susan tried to imagine herself as a man again, sitting down, and

starting to...

 

The noise in the toilet told Marcy and Dara that everything was alright. Susan didn’t expect it to start so soon, and it didn’t feel normal. Urine was coming straight down out of her pelvis, in a noisy stream right into the center of the toilet, unencumbered by any penis or now-unneccesary length of plumbing.   Her entire urethra was now just an inch or two long, and the sensation of urine flowing through a penis...

 

Strange, she thought, as she continued to empty herself.   She was finding it difficult to imagine, or even remember, what it felt like before, having not the parts to project that imagination onto.   She looked up at Dara and Marcy again, who were now simply waiting for her; a moment later her bladder was empty, and her stream came to an end. She tensed her PC muscle to eject those last few squirts, but nothing happened.   Not a drop. She tried again–it seemed less automatic than before, but still nothing.   Then she remembered that the extra plumbing, where those last squirts accumulated, was gone.   Empty meant empty.

 

Marcy looked up.   “Wipe gently,” she called.   Susan did so.   It seemed strange to have the space between her legs to reach her hand through. Susan got up, and climbed back into bed.

 

“Let’s take a look at you now,” Marcy suggested.   Susan lay back, drew up her knees, and spread her legs.   The puffiness seemed to be receding a bit–it seemed more specialized now.   Her genital slit was visible; and it was wet inside from her urine.   She spread her skin apart, and the slit started to open again.   In the mirror she could see her urinary opening; and now the inch-and-a-quarter opening was painless; it had developed well past that point.   The opening continued to lengthen, mostly downwards; an inch and a half... an inch and three quarters...   and at two inches reached the limit of her development again.   Susan didn’t hurt herself again. Marcy put her head between Susan’s legs.

 

“Yes! Look!   There it is!”

 

Marcy got out of the way; all three took a good look.   It was a vaginal opening, still partially covered by the still-developing labia.   The entrance to the vagina was still closed, but Susan could see where it was becoming deeper.   She tried to feel it inside of her, and successfully, though weakly, contracted her vaginal barrel for the first time.

 

“And look up here...”

 

Still mostly covered by the unopened skin, buried quite well, was the last vestige of George’s penis–Susan’s clitoris.   “Okay...   That’s enough,” Marcy said, and Susan closed her legs again.

“You know what’s neat about this?” she queried, standing up.

 

The other two shook their heads.

 

Susan stood in front of the mirror.   “You’d never know it’s there,” she said.   Indeed, standing up, her private parts vanished entirely between her legs.   She was still hairless in her pubic region, but no part of her genitals were visible this way.

 

“Scary...” she said.   “Neat, but still scary.   It’ll take getting

used to.”

 

“Do you miss your penis?” Marcy asked.

 

“I don’t know...   Actually, I guess not.   This seems so much–neater, more–evolved.”

 

Marcy continued. “I thought you’d see it our way.   Although, if we hadn’t been in such a hurry, it might have been fun to have it inside of us... at least once.   You’ll have to tell us what it was like to make love to Karen, before you forget those experiences entirely.”

 

“Sure, I’d be happy to...”   Susan cut herself off.   Dara was scowling at Marcy.   “Look, you two,” she continued.   “I already knew Karen was involved.   Or at least had a good idea.   My own name tells me that.”

 

“You’re quite right.   We don’t mean to keep anything from you, Susan, and won’t have to for much longer.   We’ll answer all your questions very soon.”

 

They slept spooned together that night, with Susan and her

developing parts in the middle.

 

In the morning, Susan was treated to several new experiences, which she seemed to take quite well.   Dara plucked her eyebrows, showered with her, and shaved her own legs while in the shower.   “I take it I’ll need to do that someday?” Susan asked, her own legs being quite hairless now.

 

“I do, but you won’t.   We turned that off in your new programming, just to save you the effort.   There was no merit in hairy legs that you just would have to shave all the time; it’s a primitive leftover that we got rid of quite easily.   Same for your armpits.”

 

“Oh.   Any other ‘programming’ I should be aware of?” Susan asked.

 

“Nothing else like that; we’ll tell you everything... later.”

 

Dara had finished with her legs.   Susan was impatient.   “When’s

‘later’?”

 

Dara turned to face Susan.   “Today, actually.   We have some

people to introduce you to.”

 

“I didn’t think you two were alone in this.   Not that you might

not be capable, but...”

 

Dara put her hands on Susan’s soapy hips and pulled her close.   “You’re a smart girl, Susan.   You’ll be an amazing woman in no time at all!

 

“You’re already amazing, Dara...   You’re so beautiful...” Susan ran her fingertips across Dara’s face, and tentatively down her neck, and between her still-soapy breasts.

 

Dara smiled, and slid her hands up Susan’s sides.   “Oh, Susan, I feel so proud of you; envious, almost.   There’s so much in store for us all...”

 

“I get the feeling I shouldn’t ask what you meant by that.”

 

“Yes, but...”

 

Both of them spoke together.   “Later.”

 

They got out of the shower and dried off.   Both naked, Susan followed Dara into the small walk-in closet, where several outfits were hanging. Dara unclasped a pair of interesting jeans–some kind of blue stretchy material in front, black denim in back, a white blouse, and picked up a bra and two pairs of panties.   Susan followed back to the bed, where Dara began to dress.   Panties in place, she sat on the bed and pulled on the jeans, which seemed to stretch as they went over her.   She stood up, and the jeans seemed even more tantalizing than the black ones she was wearing when they first met.   It revealed her shape, and glistened in the light. She turned around, and picked up the bra, and started to put it on.

 

Marcy stepped into the room, wearing just a robe.   “That might be

a little much for today,” she said.

 

“Hmmm... But it’s a big day!” Dara protested.

 

“True, but we don’t have the truck–and shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves.   Not that you’re ever able to wear anything that tones down that body, Dara, but with that outfit, you’ll have every man’s eyes riveted to you even more than you usually do.” Marcy was right.

 

“Wow...” was all Susan could say.   She never before considered that such things.   Dara could easily draw attention to herself and liked to do it; but her clothes were carefully chosen for the effect.   Dara knew exactly what she did to people when she wore a particular thing.

 

“Bring ‘em with you; you can change there if you want,” Marcy

offered.

 

“Nah, no point.   I have more clothes there than I do here.”   Dara turned to Susan, who was still awestruck.   “It’s not that difficult, you know. I’ve had this body for years and it doesn’t take long to learn how to get people’s attention.   Gosh, if we do end up with the same measurements–and it looks like that’s happening–we’ll be able to trade outfits!” Dara ran her hands down her hips, over her favorite pants.   “I’ll just have to have you try these on.   Then we’ll take a walk through the park and see how many men try to pick you up.”

 

Susan grinned from ear to ear.

 

“Marcy and I actually fit into some of the same things, but her hips are a bit wider, and my legs are longer.   These are more likely to fit you eventually.”   Dara unzipped them and removed them, replacing her outfit with something a little less attention-grabbing.   Susan put on the other pair of panties, which fit quite well, and the same pair of jeans as the day before, which no longer fit quite right.   They seemed just a bit too short, too loose around the waist, though tight at the hips.

 

Marcy put a belt around Susan’s jeans.   “Sorry about this,” she said. “It’s like a growing child–no use getting you lots of clothes until you stop changing.”

 

“How long will it take?”

 

“About a year.   Changes in your bone structure take the longest.

But you should be reasonably stable in a few weeks.”

 

Marcy buckled the belt for Susan.   It went on the ‘wrong’ way, until Susan remembered that belts, buttons, and such were indeed placed differently than they were for men.   Another symbol of femininity, it seemed.

 

“Dara!   Look at this!” Marcy suddenly shouted.

 

“What? What?” Dara asked, walking over in her plain blue jeans.

 

Marcy pointed to Susan’s chest.   “Oooh!” Dara said.   “I hadn’t

even noticed.”

 

Susan, excited, tried to look down but still couldn’t see

anything particularly interesting.   “What?   What is it?”

 

They turned her to the mirror.   “Look at your areaola... See how

it’s darker?”

 

Susan nodded.

 

Marcy pressed around the nipple.   “See how this seems a little

puffy?”

 

“And tender,” Susan added.   She knew very well what was

happening, but not all of the implications.

 

“Looks like you gots a pair o’ workin’ ovaries, girl!” Marcy

said. “Them there’s your breast buds!”

 

“Alright, Susan!” shouted Dara.   Susan just smiled.   She imagined, and tried her best to feel, the female hormones that were now indeed starting to surge through her bloodstream.

 

“I think that’s fairly conclusive,” Marcy said.   “You’re already starting to become a woman.   I have no doubt you’ll pass our test...”

 

“What test?”

 

“You’ll see.   Let’s go.”

 

340 Industrial Street was near the far end of, as one might guess, the industrial sector of this spread-out town.   The building was a typical, nondescript mixed-use structure near the end of a winding road lined with parked trucks and vans.   The entrance was empty, and a security camera guarded the entrance, a typical sight in this area.

 

Marcy took Dara’s arm and led her in silence through the both “airlock” doors. Dara followed. This led to a tiny lobby, almost entirely consumed by a standard security desk.   A female security guard looked briefly up at the sound of the opening door, and turned back to one of the inevitable video monitors.

 

Marcy escorted Susan through a side door into what should have been a closet.   However, the floor of the closet had been cleared to reveal a trap door, which was open.   Under this, the “closet” contained a stairway; at the bottom was a heavy steel door which was opening, anticipating their arrival.   It was Karen who was inside; she didn’t say a word, and closed and locked the door.

 

Marcy, also, said nothing.   In the room was a strange woman wearing a lab coat; this area was essentially featureless except for another similar door, and an old doctor’s examining table which didn’t seem to belong here.   The walls were brick; the area was dimly lit from overhead.

 

“Okay, Susan.   We need to give you just a simple examination just to make sure everything’s okay.   It will be alright, I’ll stay right here with you.   The doctor will need you to remove your pants, if you would.” Susan looked up at Karen quizzically, and she led her in the direction of the table.

 

The doctor’s voice was unexpectedly calm for the circumstances, but she was still very terse, as if this matter was of extreme importance. “Undress–and then on here, please.”   Susan, by this point, had already rationalized that these people knew much more about what was going on than she did, and that compliance was her best bet.   She was still ashamed of her form and undressed hesitatingly.   Karen released her hand and helped her off with his jeans, and up onto the table.   Susan looked around the room with sudden curiosity.

 

“These too, of course.   Sorry,” the doctor implored, pointing to the panties.   Susan really hesitated, looking back at Marcy.   Marcy answered first, however, and was just as gentle as Karen had been. “It’s okay, Susan.   Really.   Just for a minute or so.”

 

Susan lifted up her bottom and removed the panties, getting a

quick peek at herself.

 

“Lie back, please, and put your feet up,” said the doctor.

 

Susan lay down on the paper-covered table as the doctor extended a pair of stirrups from the end of the table.   Karen and Marcy, knowing she had never done this before, gently eased her heels into place.   The doctor snapped on a headlamp and kneeled down between Susan’s legs, touching her with her gloved fingers and examining with a pair of magnifying glasses. She probed the depression between her legs.

 

“Good initial labial formation, similar to a young child.   Urethral opening seems normal.”   Fingers probed higher, and Susan felt a sudden, both painful and erotic, tingle.   She tensed her legs.   “Sorry about that,” the doctor said in her still quite matter-of-fact tone.   “A nice healthy clitoris so far, it seems.” The fingers slid down, just past the urethral opening, and pressed against her with unexpected firmness, pressing into her body in a place that previously wouldn’t have yielded that way.   “Significant invagination already.   That’s very good.   I wasn’t sure how much to expect.”

 

Next, several fingers pressed flat against her pubic area.   “Mmmm, good development of the PC muscles.   You’ll have no problem with this body, it seems.”

 

“Invagination?”   Susan asked of Marcy, immersing herself

shallowly in the technicalities.

 

“The formation and extension of a depression or intrusion into the body. Appearance of a cavity within some organ or part.   As in the word ‘vagina’.”

 

Susan’s eyes opened wide.   “You mean...”

 

“Yes, Susan, you have one.”

 

The doctor had moved during this distraction to Susan’s head and held a small wire loop.   “Open wide for a minute.”   Susan opened her mouth, and the doctor scraped the loop against the inside of her cheek.   “Thank you. You can get dressed if you like.”   The wire loop along with cell scrapings was being shaken inside a small vial filled with a clear liquid, and was removed.   The doctor capped the vial and shook it. Marcy and Karen came up and took a closer look.   Susan postponed dressing to watch as well.   This was all very important too, it seemed.

 

“Which way...” Karen asked.   “How long?....” Marcy blurted, almost simultaneously.

 

“About 90 seconds, hopefully.   And, corny as it might be, it’s

either pink or blue.   We’re hoping for pink.”

 

“You mean this is a...” George asked, as if he was suddenly

awakened.

 

“Your sex test,” the doctor answered.   “Genetic, just like they’d

use on Olympic athletes.”

 

“Blue means...” Susan asked, suddenly seeming very worried.

 

“Blue for boys, of course.   Failure.   We return you to your apartment, you get most of your masculine parts back eventually, and we start over from scratch.”

 

Silence.   The vial swirled, as an eternity seemed to tick by.   A depressing thought, it seemed.   Susan didn’t want this effort to be wasted, whatever it was, whatever the effects on him.   “Over ten years” of effort had all come down to this.   She’d be a girl if that’s what they wanted, he told himself.   She didn’t want to go back; didn’t want to disappoint them.   She was ready to be female...   She had given up the last traces of masculinity at last, willingly now, and just hoped it wasn’t too late–and wasn’t all for nothing.

 

The liquid in the vial darkened.   It was pink.

 

Karen, Dara, and Marcy screamed.   “Yes!! It’s true!”   They hugged each other, and Susan.   Karen broke away first and ran to an intercom box next to the other huge door.   “We did it!”

 

The doctor spoke up, to be heard over the intercom.

“Congratulations. You have a healthy girl!”