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Blog Entry 24: Together again

Postby dreamweevil » Fri Apr 28, 2017 4:52 pm

Cerys:

I'm--

Rob cut off his own words. But since I know what he's thinking, I know he was about to say:

"free".

For all the desire to "converse" with me, Rob is very silent. So am I: I'm letting him read my own thoughts directly. I told him he was a dolt because he is. An insanely intelligent man, kind, even, but a dolt. Daisy tried to help him. Daisy knew what Alicia needed, what she wanted all along, and Rob just couldn't hear it. She needed to be taken for who she was. She needed to feel supported. She needed someone to care for her unconditionally. Someone to take control of her, make her feel helpless, to take care of her for a change. Daisy was exactly correct. Alicia needed to feel loved, not feared. Daisy told him so, offering a solution on a silver platter but Rob just didn't get.

She's a woman. A courageous, warm, wonderful person that just needed companionship. If Rob had offered that I would have allowed it, even supported it, at least with the hindsight I have now.

Alicia needed to be loved. That's all. In this day and age, when love costs so little, brings so much for so little risk, was that too much to ask? She's got Casey now, but can't she have... more?

A surge of emotions burst out of Rob. Cerys! No! Think-- what's she's doing--

Are you afraid that I might fall in love with Alicia? Are you, Rob?

You know what she did to me! You can see what she did to me!

Alicia is looking at me with desperate longing. I've never felt this wanted, not by Rob, not by anyone. She's got Casey's hand: I don't need to look to see that Casey is wishing for this. I squeeze Casey back.

"Casey, Alicia... I..."

No! Cerys! Don't say it! Please... just think...!

"...love you."

No!!!

Rob spins into a tizzy, as well he should. Was that so hard? I say. Despite being sexually drained, I feel the interesting little twinge that Alicia did when she caused this kind of emotion from him.

Alicia and Casey are both in tears. "Never, ever leave us," Alicia pleads. I looked at both of them and said, aloud, the words Rob feared most. Well, second most. "I am yours... forever."

Alicia rolled to her back next to me. "I've wanted you since I first saw you in Rob's memory," she admitted. I knew that, of course, having spent the better part of two hours connected to Alicia's thoughts.

Rob, trying to fight his way back into my consciousness, resorts to words again. He's "panting" in his thoughts, desperately trying to sort them out. Are you... sure?

Yes, Rob, I'm sure. I'm not connected to Alicia at the moment but am still connected to Casey: she hears it. "I think the three of us will be perfect together," I say.

As this amazing sense of relief crosses through the three of us, this huge tension released and an amazing world of opportunity just coming together, Rob is trying to work out the logic of my thoughts. Surely there's some reason for what I just told Casey and Alicia? Alicia's powerful, high ranking, likely to be quite wealthy, some utility in that, right?

Wrong. She needs me. They need me. I need them. I don't care about money or power. I want to be a part of this, of their life.

Okay, okay, Rob says. I can live with this... As long as I have you--

Something in Rob's tone bothers me. You can live with this? I need your permission?

Okay, Cerys, please, I'm sorry. Let's calm down a bit. You can reconstitute me. Make me whoever you want me to be. You can turn me into a girl if you want, fine. And then we can talk about it. Please?

I remain quiet. Seconds pass. Rob has noticed that I have not ovulated; that his egg is very much alone in my fertilization chamber as I slowly absorb Alicia's delicious transfer fluid.

Cerys... come on. You are going to... give birth to me, aren't you? Isn't this why--?

I don't know.

I sit up, disconnect myself from Casey. "I have a big decision to make."

Cerys, I'm afraid... why is there a decision involved here? I'm your boyfriend. Remember... all the terrific experiences we've had? The future we had planned after you got your degree and I got mine and we were going to get an apartment together and--

I'm not sure any of that matters now, Rob.

But... it matters to me... it's why I'm inside you now, so you can... I mean, Alicia wasn't going to do it, she's too selfish, not like you, you're so warm and wonderful and--

Don't patronize me, Rob. You can't afford it.

But--

"Can we help you?" asks Casey, who reaches for me. Alicia stops her.

"I think she wants to make this decision on her own," Alicia says.

Thank god, Rob says.

Ah, but I'm not really making it on my own, then, am I, Rob? You're calling Alicia selfish but now expect me to spend the next nine months of my life pregnant and then ten or eleven years and hundreds of thousands of dollars raising a little girl who won't even remember that she used to be you until she's old enough?

Cerys... Okay, I know that's asking a lot, but...

You bet it is! When I've got whole, new life right in front of me, waiting? Are you seriously expecting me to change your diapers and drive you to gymnastics practice and...?

But that won't be me, Cerys. I promise. Once my memories come back I'll make it up to you.

Right. Twelve years from now. And hate to break this to you, Rob, but you'll never be you again, will you? You'll be this girl that I've raised from birth with most of your memories. You won't be my boyfriend. That ship has sailed. You'll be my daughter. And, frankly, when I'm ready to bear children I want that to be on my schedule.

Cerys... listen... please! You promised!

I'm listening.

Alicia has poisoned you! This isn't you speaking... I know you! You'd have done anything to save me and all you have to do now is one little hormone surge and a little DNA sequencing... but Alicia's trying to turn you into the same kind of monster that she is!

Is that what I am now?

No-- not at all... there's still time, Cerys! Please!

I wish I could have seen it with my own eyes...

What?

Those long streams of beautiful yellow urine as Alicia peed you out. Did you feel it, Rob? As she absorbed your body and turned you into piss? I wish... I wish... I could have helped her. It should have been me.

What? Cerys! You can't possibly be serious! I love you! With all my heart!

Your heart, like the rest of your body is long gone, Rob. You have to accept that. Daisy tried to help you come to terms with it, bless her.

"Okay," I said aloud to a very patient (yet impatient) Casey and Alicia. "I've decided."

"So...?" they said together. "Whatever you decide, we'll support," Alicia added.

"I'm not ready to be a 'mom'", I told them. "It wouldn't be fair to you, or to myself. I'm ready to say goodbye to Rob." In tears, I put my head between Alicia's and Casey's. "This... what we can have... is so much better."

No, Cerys, please! Please!

I started tightening my fertilization chamber. I felt Alicia's tiny egg seat against the valve into my uterus. I knew Rob could feel this. I kissed Casey, and connected my fingers with Alicia, and let that connection strengthen, so the other two women could feel what I was about to do.

Are you... sure? Alicia asked me, right away.

Yes. I started to relax the tiny valve. Rob screamed; he knew very well what this meant. Not far from where he was held, my two comparatively massive ovaries stood silent, neither coming to his rescue with an ovum of their own; neither of them willing in the slightest to bring him back to life.

Help me, I finally pleaded. Rob knew I wasn't talking to him.

Casey, Alicia, and I took mental control of that tiny valve together. Rob's anguished screams continued. Alicia and I opened the valve. Casey inspired my fertilization chamber to contract. The egg was stuck in the valve; but another squeeze popped it free.

No... what... what have you done? Rob asked.

Sealed your fate, I answered. I could feel the countdown clock to my menstrual period being wound by the hormone surge that accompanied the release of Alicia's unfertilized egg. The valve closed behind the egg, leaving Rob alone in my empty uterus with no way to absorb nutrients or grow, no way to launch a pregnancy that I didn't want.

You've got ten, eleven days at most, I told Rob. I suggest you make the most of them. I may not have gotten the pleasure of turning your body into piss, but I get the honor of disposing of this last little bit of you.

Rob fell silent. I knew he could feel it: the hormonal countdown clock, as my uterus awaited implantation and the egg containing the only complete copy of Rob's memories remained alone and incomplete.

"I'm really proud of you, Cerys," Casey said, aloud. "That took guts. But I think it was the right choice."

I felt, to Rob's absolutely delightful horror, a new, strengthened bond with these two women. We're going do do this together. Okay?

You got it, girlfriend!

Girlfriend. I liked the sound of that. All my years I never really had a girlfriend: I had boyfriends, Rob being the most recent. Now I not only have a girlfriend, and lover, but I've got two of each. I feel like my life is really about to take off at last.

. . .

Now I get it. I was wondering why I this state-of-the-art "5.2" body didn't have a way to just quickly expel an egg I didn't want, why I have to go through the complete old-school female menstrual cycle for pretty much no reason, but at this point I'm glad that little annoyance was left into the design. In part, it's an homage to the original pioneers who elected to leave that part of ourselves alone, in part a statement that I'm still a woman, a connection to my female heritage.

What I "get", however, is how Alicia enjoyed what she did to Rob. I'm standing in the feminine hygiene section of the grocery store and really taking my time, forcing Rob to look as I explore different options and features of each product. They all claim to be leakproof! Or are designed by women! Or are super-comfortable and invisible! For active women! I think for a moment of the manufacturers of these things suffering the way they are: since women now only menstruate when they want to, sales of these stuff has dropped by two-thirds, such that everything in this section seems to have fire-sale pricing. I think I'll get myself a silicone menstrual cup: better for the environment. Which size? What color? Ah. Here's one. This should do.

If Rob had tear ducts right now he'd be crying, and the thought of that makes me smile. He understands that he won't even be there to see me use this thing: this product is for me to use after he's gone.

Hey, if my enjoyment makes me a monster, well, I'll be the best monster I know how to be. If I'd just been able to squirt out this egg in a moment of seconds and be done with it, then I wouldn't be enjoying Rob's last few days, having this last little stretch of time with him.

Alicia has returned to work-- or, really, started it, given that she got (what?) one day of her real job done before disappearing into Belle's womb for her upgrade. Even then she's going to have to take more time off soon for Daisy's birth.

Rob seems to really regret missing out on Daisy's help. The youngest of Alicia's sisters, infinitely clever in that she invented Human 4.0 pretty much by herself, Daisy tried her best to intervene in what Alicia was doing to Rob. Not only was Daisy not there to console Rob in his hour of need, but Alicia is at present transforming dear, sweet Daisy into an adult woman much like herself, like myself. Aggressive, powerful, no-nonsense, and with the same gifts between her legs and on her chest and in her head that I've got. The ability to take any man (or, really, anyone) she chooses and completely consume him within herself. Alicia has big plans for Daisy this way, and Daisy already understands that her first assignment will be to "take care" of Brad, her star-crossed boyfriend, and finish the job she started regardless of what Brad's parents think! Unfortunately for Rob, Daisy won't be born in time for Rob to say goodbye to her.

Clarisse seems to want to follow in Alicia's footsteps. Right now she's transforming one of her own best friends, part of some prior arrangement. But she sees herself joining Alicia's army of enforcers. There are some interesting things to tackle in the short term: the future world needs no prisons, right, so what to do with all the existing prisoners?

I think you can imagine what's going to be done with them. Good news, if you're a prisoner right now, is that you're going to get one solid chance to share what you know with one person who is going to read every thought in your head. If you were falsely convicted, you'll be able to make your case to someone who will know that you're speaking the truth; you'll be set free with society's utmost apologies. Guilty? Well, we know what's going to happen to you. You might even be facing Clarisse, if things work according to that plan. It's not going to be easy, we know. But once it's done, it'll be over, and the world will be a better place.

All around us there are these amazing, early signs of the new world that's emerging. Not only the dismantling of prisons, but of the entire international war machine. The end of dictatorships. Of ignorance. Soon: of poverty, starvation. I watch Alicia's mother on the television. She's got such huge recognition now there's no way she's not going to be nominated for some kind of high office very soon.

Meanwhile, I think I'll give Rob a chance to get some final words in while he can. You're up for that, aren't you, Rob?
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Blog Entry 25: Goodbye, Rob.

Postby dreamweevil » Sun Apr 30, 2017 4:30 am

Cerys: You're up for that, aren't you, Rob?

Well?

Rob:: ...........

Cerys:: I'm giving you an opportunity to say whatever you want to everyone out there. You don't want to waste that, do you?

Rob:: Leave me alone, Cerys. I have nothing more to say to you after what you've done to me, and I definitely don't want to be shown off giving my last words like some depraved performing monkey. At least give me a little dignity. That's about all I have left.

Cerys:: Given where you're headed, and what you're about to turn into, I don't even think you have that, Rob. I just wanted to you get a chance to say whatever was on your mind while you still could.

Rob:: Stick your chance where the sun doesn't shine - I'm well aware of my situation, the world is well aware of my situation and doesn't care, and as such I've nothing to say. If it gives you pleasure to torture a condemned man as he nears his end, well...

Cerys: "Where the sun doesn't shine"... cute. I don't see a lot of sun shining where you are, Rob. Fine. Don't say anything, then. We'll just get this over with. I was thinking you'd appreciate one last chance for anyone to hear whatever it is you had to say. Maybe my grandchildren will be curious someday. Fine. If you're done, then I guess I'm done with you.

Rob: I...What the hell is it that you want, Cerys? I don't know what to say, and what exactly does it matter now, anyway?

Cerys: Maybe it doesn't. Okay. here. Since I can read your thoughts, how about if I just tell people what you were thinking. You wanted to point out to all our readers that you were right. That you knew that things weren't going to be as rosy as they... I guess it's "we" now, isn't it? ...that we were saying it was going to be. That this was, in some ways, a "bait and switch": now that we're in control, now that we've got the numbers, we're free to abuse that power and make people like you walk around in fear. Or do whatever we ask. Or they'll end up just like you. Right?

Rob: That's about the size of it, yes.

Cerys: To be fair, we missed it. We didn't know you were on the blog in real time; thought we still had that temporal separation. And you did try to raise the alarm, Rob, I saw that. Asked good questions, how can we promise not to be tyrannical once you've given control of your future to us, right? You raised those concerns In a public forum that anybody could read, yet hardly anybody seemed to hear you. I feel your pain there. Feels a lot like the climate change issue, where smart people kept trying to raise the alarm for years only to have nothing happen and things just continue to progress. And by the time you decided to shout your alarm, it was too late. All it did was attract Alicia's attention, and we all know where that led. How did that feel, Rob? Looking into her eyes when you knew exactly what she could do to you? Is it the same feeling you think all men will have? That now it'll be men walking in fear, afraid to be alone, deathly afraid of running into a group of us late at night?

Rob:: You know what I'm thinking, but I guess you want me to say it anyway. I felt like oppressed people have felt throughout the course of history? Like the safeguards Alicia talked about earlier are either totally ineffective or are simply going to be ignored? Like the whole brave new world that you are so eagerly looking forward to is just a lie, because of that? That all that is going to result from this is a sad little dystopia filled with sad little powermongers looking to get off on the nonconsensual suffering of others?

Yeah. I think that about covers it. And yes, you missed it - but oddly enough you don't seem overly concerned that you did.

Cerys: I, personally, didn't miss it. When you first got onto this blog, I was still my plain-old human self. If I had known... well, I don't know what I'd have done. Perhaps you should have shared it with me back then, and we could have dealt with it together somehow?

Look, I'm who I am now because of you. Look at the difference, you and I. I never felt oppressed at all. Casey was really nice to me. I was sad and lonely and missing you, and she was there for me. She told me what happened to you before I made the conscious decision to take her up on her offer. I liked being inside her, the intimacy. And I love this new body she's given me.

I do think there will be some struggles as we get through this. But we're going to get through it. Right now there are millions of humans trapped in our bellies, Rob. Millions. Millions that will soon be born with what I've got now. And millions more after that. Can you blame people? I can't. To have this body instead of an aging, failing one that's prone to really miserable diseases? When this thing first made the news there were people willing to pay money to get transformed "first". Hardly what I'd call oppression there.

Now what's happened to you? Okay, yes. Given your situation, I can certainly understand why you'd feel that way. I don't know what you did, other than threaten the entire project, that pissed Alicia off like that. But once she got a taste of teasing you like she did, she just couldn't help herself, and I have to admit: it's fun feeling you squirm, having you under my control like this.

Yes, there will be other women out there doing something similar, other guys (and even women) unwittingly caught up in it; but it's a limited time thing, pretty rare actually. For every one case like yours there's dozens, if not hundreds, of people who's lives are being saved. Did you know that this is what Alicia's sister, Belle, has signed up for? She's taking the most critically ill from our local hospital and giving them new lives, once at a time! Now that's dedication! Once most everyone's been transformed it really will be that brave new world you've heard about. Too bad you won't be around to see it.

Rob:: There's a world of difference between the circumstances in which we were "taken in", Cerys. I would hope that you see that. I was never offered the choice. And I also had no choice that Alicia would then decide to unravel my whole life, and that you'd continue her work for her. Yes, I made a mistake by not speaking to you or the authorities, thinking I could at least get them to listen before making that step, and that was a terrible thing and I think about that at least an hour every day and goodness knows I can't apologise enough to you for that... but the last time I checked, that's not really something someone should have their life destroyed over.

But, anyway...I have no doubt you will get through this, as you say. You've won, enjoy it. But please don't feed me the "greater good" line and then try to tell me - and the wider world - that what is happening now is somehow different to what has come before. I'm sure there are plenty of lives being saved - the bio engineering, being done, after all, is incredible, that's not in question. However, there are also plenty being taken. You want to talk about eggs and omelettes, that's fine with me, and it may just be that when all the "undesirables" have either been changed or eliminated the you might have your perfect world...but what I'm doing here, right now, is making it clear, as clear as I possibly can, of the cost innocent people, people who did nothing wrong, who were subject to no due process...are having to pay for the sake of this perfect world.

And yes, the enjoyment. That's not the kind of thing you can just switch off. What happens when there is no one left to take, when all that is left are people like you... what do you do then, I wonder?

But, as you say, that's something I won't see - many thanks for your leading part in that, by the way - so I guess it's something I don't really need to speculate about. You're right about that, my love.

Cerys: After everyone like you is gone... good question there. I think you're missing something. This unbirthing thing doesn't end once all of you are gone. There will always be people wanting renewal, upgrades, or just the absolute intimacy and connection of being dissolved away and made into someone else.

But, my love, you're right, too. What we're doing Is absolutely a guilty pleasure and I wish you could experience it from my side. I'll be completely honest here: ever since sharing Alicia's thoughts I've had my little differences with her. But... let me take you back to the beginning for a moment, try to get into your thoughts at the time. Alicia didn't come to your apartment with the idea of unbirthing anyone. She just wanted to meet you, hear your complaints, figure out if your threat was real or a bluff. And she fought with herself every step of the way as you triggered every bit of the desire that was your undoing. She needed you to understand that this was bigger than you, bigger than her, than any of us. You could have convinced her you'd keep quiet and she'd likely have left you alone. You could have showed some interest in becoming one of us, and you would have. Instead you kept up the threat because you liked what it did to her. You liked seeing that hunger come out, that raw, unrestrained sexual hunger, didn't you? So you played right into her hands. Right between her legs, really. She didn't force you into herself. I don't think she could have. She seduced you. Cornered you like a frightened animal. Breathed in your fear and used it to convince you to give your entire self to her. So from her standpoint, it was voluntary. It was what you wanted, apparently.

I get a little bit of that sense, too. You enjoyed having this strong, sexy woman completely take charge of you. You liked struggling to get out of her only to have her clamp down on you all that much more; you liked that she could become your entire universe, that you were at her mercy.

If that'd been me on the outside, instead of Alicia, it would have been different, no doubt. For I did-- I do love you, Rob. Even with Alicia's mental connection, I like to think that I know you better; we have this real history. I might have teased you and played with you for a while and we would have had a boatload of fun but I'd have caught my breath at some point, come to my senses, let you out. We'd have had a sober discussion like equals before doing anything we couldn't reverse. No question that'd have been a better outcome. I wonder how that conversation would have gone? Would you have agreed to let me turn you into a girl like me, just for fun? Not that I minded having a boyfriend, but so you could experience this?

Rob:: My goodness...she's really done a number on you, hasn't she?

But...for the sake of appearances, let's say things began to play out in the way you put. Alicia comes round, I know exactly who she is thanks to my own research and her own mistake. I panic - understandably panic. If what you said is it all true, she would, at that point, simply have told me to calm down, to tell my she meant no threat...and we would likely have talked. She'd have attempted to convince me of the good things that she was doing - she may well have succeeded - and then she would have come to a decision...either leave me alone, or convince me that I needed "upgrading".

Instead, when faced with blind, wholly irrational panic, she let her own irrational instinct take over. I don't really care that she fought with herself not to do it - evidently, she didn't fight hard enough, and what happens now is the result of that.

She didn't give me a chance, Cerys. She gave me no chance to overcome my base fear, to talk things out afterwards, and no choice but to submit to what was about to happen. That is what I have been trying to say all along...and why all of this is all massively wrong.

But if you, her and the others want to continue the masquerade that somehow I "wanted" and "enjoyed" this in order to square things away with yourselves morally, that's up to you. (That particular justification has been used a fair few times by people in the past, too.) Guess everyone who takes lives - unless they're teetering on the brink of total sociopathy - needs some justification in their minds to help them sleep at night. That's yours and fair enough.

If it had been you rather than Alicia...I'd like to think you'd have held back, that cooler heads would have prevailed in the way that you suggest. It may well have been enjoyable, and I may well have agreed - I've said several times that at least some of the work being done out there needs to be done, after all. But...it didn't and we didn't, so here we are.

Anyway...when you have run out of people to unconsensually bring in, I'm sure there will still be need for people to do it willingly, as you say. But will that really satiate the desire that Alicia, amongst others have? I noticed you didn't answer that particular question when I answered it earlier.

I guess...I guess I'm not really getting anywhere and that this whole discussion is really quite redundant. Hell, I've spent most of the time just talking to you rather than talking to "out there" - provided there's anyone out there who actually gives two whatevers about what is about to happen to me. But I guess I can should start talking to them now as well as to you.

I've tried, tried all along, but I guess I'll never convince you (I wish I could, my love) and the others as to the exact bitter nature of the cost being paid by good people right now - the denial of their most fundamental of freedoms, being told to conform or die and then being consumed and forgotten - for the sake of the future and how it has happened so many times before in the name of that same better future and doesn't have to be that way (Alicia herself said it didn't and I agreed it was possible, but it hasn't turned out that way)...but one thing I do hold onto, right now, is the hope that maybe...someday down the line, someone will.

And then you might be able to look back, in your supposedly perfect world...at what has been done to me, to so many others, and feel something. Something that, for all the amazing advancements made, all the pushing of the evolutionary envelope...all of you seem incapable of feeling.

Shame.

Cerys: Don't you think I feel it now? Don't you think it's not on my mind constantly that with every passing hour I'm that much closer to saying goodbye to you forever?

I love you, Rob. Or, at least, I did. The person you used to be. Before.

You're trying to hold me responsible for everything that any one of "us" has done. It's not going to be perfect, Rob. Sometimes the cop shoots an innocent person. Sometimes the wrong person gets convicted. It doesn't means it's your fault. I mean-- what are the odds, you happening to be the one to crack this particular kind of temporal encryption when you did? With Alicia on the same campus?

I can't blame you. You were up against an expert, Rob. Alicia's got the combined wisdom of generations of women, plus professional training. She knows how to seduce men, how to get them to do what she wants, even get them to give up their lives. You never stood a chance. She was frightened, her training kicked in, and that was... it.

Yeah, she's done a number on me. You're right there too. God, Rob, she enjoyed it. You got caught up in this inescapable female power trip and I know that. I couldn't go through her memories of what happened to you without feeling it, though, Rob. Her pleasure. The idea of taking this big, strong man and feeling him, helpless inside herself like that... just like I've got you now.

I can't blame you for what happened but I'm having trouble bringing myself to blame Alicia, either. Can you understand that? She's not evil. You just ran into her at the wrong time, rubbed her the wrong way. And, yeah, that's going to happen to other guys, I'm sure.

Rob... this is harder than you think. I don't want to lose you but I also want this over with. Casey and Alicia are being really kind and gentle with me, but I know they can't wait for my body to be rid of yours... so they can have me to themselves. I don't know how to tell you this, but... I want that, Rob. I want that life they're offering! And now... that you and I are past the point of no return... I'm going to have to make peace with myself about that. I just hope you can forgive me somehow.

Rob:: If you do feel it, and this is truly harder than you think...then you've done a masterful job of hiding it, and I'm really rather impressed. Perhaps the interactions with Alicia and the others, as well as my own current state...maybe that's dulled my senses and made me less aware of what your feelings really are.

Well...let's just say for the sake of the situation, that you are on the level. That it's that difficult for you...I can understand that, and I'm sorry.

You've touched on rather the point I was making as well - Alicia promised a perfect system. On here, to me. Then...she didn't deliver it, in the name of her own interest. That, along with what happened, is the reason why I feel the way I do. Like I have been betrayed. Had my life torn apart - you taken from me by them - for the sake of an imperfect system. For a lie. Perhaps in my anger I'm blaming you too much for that - lumping you in with them too much - and if that's the case then I apologise for that also.

I know you feel that you can't blame Alicia for what happened either, but the way things happened...can you see why I am now - so close to passing from this world forever - finding it so hard to think that she didn't do what she did out of some twisted desire? She has so much power...and yet, in one of her first exercises of it, she misused it. Misused it on me. I hope that she learns from it, that this will help her not misuse it in future...but that's more of a hope than an expectation.

I also know that Casey and Alicia are influencing you, and that you want this over with as a result of that more than anything else - that they put you in a bind where the only way you were going to see me again was as someone different, a different role, many years into the future. Perhaps, some time soon, when the end is really close...I will be able to forgive you, know that it's not your fault. But...I'm afraid, Cerys. I don't want to die. And knowing that as I die, knowing the likely last thought I will have is that you'll have given me up, finished me off for the sake of being with them...you will have to find your own peace about that. My fear means I can't grant nor wish to grant you any.

I'm so afraid. I love you and I'm so afraid. Pretty poor message to say to the world, huh?

Cerys: I... Oh, Rob...

Oh, Alicia's going to kill me for this... but If I could save you... would you even want me to?

Rob: What? Isn't it... too late?

Cerys: Not really. at least...

Okay. Let's look at the situation for a minute, nice and calm. I'm going to menstruate soon. Nothing can stop that. But... that's not you, Rob. but that egg inside me is just a copy of your thoughts and memories, Rob. Frozen in time inside Alicia's ovary. Your body... well, you were there, you know what Alicia did. She turned it into into hundreds of liters of female urine and flushed that part of you away forever. But that's just physical matter, Rob. You're still here, with me. The only reason you're conversing with me right now is that Alicia gave me another copy. A backup, of sorts. You're in my head, Rob, not my uterus, even though your consciousness has felt that way... because that's what you were supposed to feel. That's one of the abilities of this body. I've got you, partitioned, in my own head. When I menstruate, I just have to forget enough of you that... you don't... exist.

That's why I know Alicia's not evil, Rob. She could have gotten rid of you herself. Instead, she preserved every bit of you that she could, so accurately that I know it's really you-- and gave it-- your memories, your consciousness, and a complete backup copy tucked into one of her own eggs-- to me. She didn't have to do any of that. She knows how to erase people, Rob. She would have done it if she wanted to. But... instead, you're her gift... to me. She knew... I'd love her for it. She was right.

I can't save the egg. My period's coming, Rob; it's almost here. But I can save you. You could join me... join us. I can absorb you into myself. We can join our thoughts together... and become one... forever. You know how two people can fuse themselves together into one body and become one? We may only have one body to start with-- mine-- but we can do that, Rob. You can live forever inside me-- well, not "inside" the way you have been for so long, but as me. Partners. And then I can introduce you to a whole new world... we'll have you and me together, and Casey, and Alicia... and you'll be on the other side for a change, with me. We have to both want this for it to happen, and you have to be willing to become... me. Then we'll say goodbye to that old "you" together.

Rob:: You...mean that, Cerys? There's really a way out, like you...? Alicia never said - well, I guess she wouldn't.

Well...as long as some semblance of my consciousness remains...I'd want to be part of you. Of course I would. I don't want to disappear. I don't want to make the same mistake I did all that time ago.

If you feel you can do it...then let's try. Please. Let's see if we can correct the errors I made.

Cerys: Okay. I know how to do this. I hope you're ready for it, because you're going to get to experience what it is to be me, to be a woman, to be evolved like this. Of course, it means you're about to be life-partners with Casey and Alicia. You're okay with that?

Rob: Well, given the alternative which is coming right up... if you love them, Cerys, then I guess I'll learn to, in time...

Cerys: Okay. I'd chat more but I feel like we don't have time to spare. This does take a while. We're going to start aligning our thoughts together, you and I. And then I'm going to start absorbing you into myself. It's like shuffling together two decks of cards: we have to work out all the differences between ourselves, match up the memory engrams that already align, like our memories of all the time we spent together... It'll take us all night, I'm sure, but I know we can do it.

Rob: Cerys, I don't know how to tell you this, but I just felt something.

Cerys: Oh... of course you wouldn't know what that is. That's a uterine cramp, Rob. My period's starting. Don't worry about that: it doesn't matter now. Come on, let's start at the beginning, right here...

Rob: Okay. It kind of felt like an earthquake to me. Cerys, I think we need to hurry.

Cerys: Right. We've got to get your mental focus out of there-- where your egg is-- and into me, Rob. Start thinking about: who are we about to become? What's our personality going to be? What's the first thing we say to Alicia and Casey when we wake up next to them?

Hang on a minute.

Rob: Cerys?

Cerys: Just a moment, my love. Alicia's home and brought food. I'm hungry. Back in a jiffy: you just get yourself organized for me.

Rob: But--

Alicia: Hello.

Rob: What's going on?

Cerys: Sorry about that. Merging's going to take some energy, didn't want to do it on an empty stomach. All set, in bed now.

Rob: With Alicia??

Cerys: Of course! And Casey. They're going to help us, my love. In the morning there will be three of us, you and I joined into a single, wonderful--

Casey: I'm impressed, Cerys. But you're sure you want to do this? I mean...

Rob: Oh... Cerys, this is important, please. Disconnect from them, Cerys. You need to disconnect right now.

Cerys: I can't do that! I'm in the middle, and Alicia's bum is so nice and warm against me--

Rob: Cerys! Please!

Alicia: Rob, you were really willing to become a woman, my partner? Hey, if I'd known you were up for that I would have transformed you myself a long time ago. Are you sure you're willing to become what you said you hated? Wouldn't it be much simpler to become my girlfriend's menstrual period?

Casey: Cerys. Your cycle's already really in progress, isn't it? You don't have to do this, don't have to become someone you're not.

Rob: Cerys - please, listen to me. They wanted this all along. They passed my memories along to you not out of some favour, but because, when the time was right and if they thought you would try to keep me... they could do this. Please don't let them!

Alicia: Wait a minute. He didn't already know you were in bed with us? Or that you had dinner with us? Or that you were hungry?

Casey: Whoa. He's already that disconnected from your world, Cerys, but you're planning to merge with him? How much of him is actually left?

Cerys: All of him, I think. Well, most of him. I don't know ... ?

Rob: Cerys-- please! I know what they're up to here! You're outnumbered! I don't care warm Alicia's bum is-- jump out of bed if you have to and get away from them!

Alicia: Sounds pretty desperate to me, don't you think? That uterine lining starting to get a little less hospitable, huh?

Cerys: Give me some space, let me talk this out with you. I can explain! Let me just get up and--

Alicia: Hold her tight, Casey.

Casey: Got it.

Cerys: Wait... Let me go! What are you doing?

Alicia: Rescuing you!

Cerys: What? From Rob??

Casey: Of course from Rob! Who do you expect? You're going to let this guy, with whom you've had a kind of lukewarm, long-distance relationship, take you over? Maybe even spoil what we have?

Rob: Cerys! I told you! They're evil! They're monstrous and they set this up! Please! Listen to me and pry yourself away from them! Run away if you have to!

Alicia: And those, my loves, are the words of a what's left of a man, trying anything to save himself. Consider it an intervention, Cerys. We're doing it because we love you. We love you exactly as you are right now. We're going to be an amazing trio, the three of us. Unstoppable!

Rob: You see?! Are those the words of a kind woman out to save the world?! They want you to kill me, Cerys! Please - you're strong: you can stop them!

Alicia: But she doesn't want to stop us, Rob. She knows we're right.

Casey: We'll help you through it, my dear, sweet Cerys.

Alicia: I love you, Cerys! We're here for you!

Cerys: No... please... I need time to... think...

Rob: Please, Cerys! I love you more than they ever will! You can't be... please... please...

Alicia: You almost convinced her, Rob. "A" for effort. Too bad you didn't make more of that effort earlier.

Casey: Yeah, Rob. She doesn't need you. Never did. Right, Cerys?

Cerys: I'm... I don't know...

Rob: You don't know? We had a plan, Cerys! You weren't going to let me die, remember?? Come on, break free of this! Disconnect from them and come to your senses!

Casey: I've got a better plan. How about we let the Moon Goddess visit you and get this over with? You can't decide because you're hormonal, that's all. That's why you've got us, here, your real partners, to help you. You can do it, Cerys. You've been suppressing Mother Nature long enough. Turn that so-called "boyfriend" into a bloody mess and get rid of him once and for all. He doesn't really love you, he's not one of us, would never be happy being one of us.

Rob: That's not true! I love Cerys more than you'll ever know-- more than you evil bitches are even remotely capable of!

Alicia: Now who's lying? He's just a shadow of a man afraid of what you're about to do to him, Cerys. I'm sure, in what's left of his tiny and unevolved mind, you're an "evil bitch" too.

Casey: Right now he'd say anything to save himself, Cerys. Trust us. You don't want him.

Rob: Yes! She does! She doesn't want to be a killer-- a murderer!

Cerys: ...what... do I do?

Alicia: That's easy, my love. Just do what you've done so many times already, what women have done for millenia. Menstruate. You've been suppressing it. Just let it happen, let nature take it's course and it'll be over before you know it.

Casey: Just like a man to want a woman to go against her own nature.

Rob: No! Cerys! Please!

Alicia: You can't stop it, Rob. Nobody can. Come on, girlfriend. Shed that uterine lining. Flush him from your life forever.

Casey: Once you're cleaned out inside you'll be ready for some real fun!

Alicia: Just let your reproductive system take out all it's righteous feminine anger on him. You don't want him, Cerys. Reduce him to nothing. Show him nobody owns you, nobody tells you what to do. Show him who's in charge.

Rob: No! What the hell is happening?? Cerys... help!!

Cerys: It's happening.

Casey: Ah, and the Goddess of the Moon doth visit and bestow the lovely Cerys Her cleansing, renewing gift...

Rob: No-- no! I'm still here!

Alicia: Not for much longer.

Rob: Please - Cerys, I love you!

Casey: We wouldn't be doing this if we didn't love you, Cerys. And unlike Rob, we'll be around tomorrow.

Rob: Shut up! Both of you! Cerys... It is absolutely not too late! You told me that your cycle had nothing to do with it! That I'm safe and sound in your head! The memories are there!

Alicia: But you're not, Rob, are you? Where you do feel like you are, right now?

Rob: ...

Cerys: He's not answering.

Alicia: Because he knows the truth. He can't escape where he is. Cerys... you have to let him go. He's trapped in your uterus. I don't think he could make it back from there if he wanted to. You'll only cause yourself heartache trying to save him. And that would cause me heartache.

Casey: And me.

Cerys: I thought... I thought I could have saved him.

Rob: You can! Please - you can do it exactly the way you suggested! Cerys!

Alicia: He's just trying to guilt-trip you. Here, Casey, help me out.

Casey: Umm... Rob, what's your mother's name?

Rob: That's easy! It's... it's..

Cerys: I know it.

Alicia: But he doesn't. Not anymore.

Cerys: Ow. Another cramp.

Casey: It's time, Cerys. Say your goodbyes.

Rob: Cerys! Please! I love you! Don't let them do this!

Cerys: Goodbye, Rob.

Casey: Atta girl!

Alicia: Alright, Cerys! Way to go! Now lets get rid of this excess baggage and get on with our lives!

Casey: Yeah. Poor guy didn't get the message that four was a crowd? Cerys, it's going to feel so good to finally be rid of him and all the guilt he's tried to inject into you. But you were strong! One of us! You showed him!

Rob: ...but... I'm still... here...please...

Cerys: I need to... get to the bathroom.

Alicia: Okay, Casey, you can let her go before she... makes a mess.

Casey: Right.

Rob: No... no...ha...I...was...right...one day...you...shame...

. . .

Alicia: I held Cerys' hand as she sat on our toilet. Casey held the other; no way were we going to leave Cerys alone through this. Rob was still there, but fading, Casey was brilliant: keeping Rob where he was, preventing him from escaping Cerys' reproductive system, from escaping the real world as Cerys' body did its thing. The cramps lessened with her sitting up, and she spread her legs so we could watch the first few drops of blood drip from her body.

That's it, lover. Let him go. Put him in his place.

Rob continued to fight. Cerys' cramps continued. Her cervix opened, and Rob began to slip downwards through her. I followed him, in my thoughts, so he wouldn't miss a minute of it. Oozing free, expelled forever from his former lover's womb. Through her cervix. Into her birth canal. Then-- harsh, completely unwanted, disastrous light looming just below. Caught helplessly in Cerys' ruthless flow. I felt this as much as Cerys did-- after all, I'm the one who started it, and I knew it would be useful training for Cerys to finish it.

A big push and Cerys purged Rob from her body. I felt him go; consciousness not fading quickly enough as he fell from between his lover's legs, from warmth and safety, to harsh, lifeless air and brutal water. Cerys was smiling, a bit of perfectly reasonable embarrassment in having her period in the view of two other women, but when she realized we were proud of her, she smiled and even laughed a bit.

"You're right. The hardest part was arguing with myself. Once I made up my mind, it was... easy. And... dare I say..."

"Oh, absolutely, dare," Casey said.

"Fun," Cerys said.

"So... you're okay with it?"

"Well, I'll take you up on helping me to forget... tonight? Just the three of us at last?"

"Absolutely!"

Cerys looked down into the toilet. "A entire man reduced to this. Hard to believe!"

"Hey," I said. "I did most of the work here. Next one's all yours."

"Sure," Cerys said. "As long as I've got the two of you at my side, I feel like I could do anything."

"I bet you could," Casey said.

"Hey, as long as I'm sitting here being disgusting at all, watch this." She looked down again. "Hey, Rob! Look out below!"

A sharp, hot, laser beam of urine shot from deep inside Cerys into the water below her.

"All right!" Casey shouted. "You show him!"

When Cerys was done, I handed Cerys the menstrual cup she'd bought. As she stood, Cerys added: "Care to join me?"

"Don't mind if I do!"

I took Cerys' place, and happily added all my pee to Cerys'. How's that, Rob? Nice and warm now? Here, Casey, you can help warm him up a bit more. Casey sat and took great joy in adding her pee to ours, diluting what was left of Rob all that much more. We flushed the toilet together, and got ourselves ready for bed.

And that, Dear reader, was the end of one Rob McLeane. Flushed away once and for all.

Ever since getting up from the toilet, I had a weird feeling inside-- sympathetic menstrual pain? But...

Daisy??

Casey was climbing into bed with Cerys. I stood at the foot of the bed. "Umm... guys... I think I'm going into... labor."
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Re: Greetings from Jessica's vagina! AMA!

Postby Groblek » Sun Apr 30, 2017 11:12 am

Sorry, y'all, I think you girls have gone way too dark for me. Alicia, Casey, what you did to push Cerys there pretty much proved Rob's point. Have fun in your brave new world, but I think I'll be taking a break from reading your blog for a bit.
Cheers,
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26: The Origin of Species

Postby dreamweevil » Sun Apr 30, 2017 4:14 pm

Alicia:

This can't be happening.

"Isn't it too early?" Casey asked. "I mean... doesn't she have like... a whole week to go?"

"That's what I thought, but... no, this is really clear. She's ready to rejoin us," I answered. Daisy was, figuratively, kicking at the door. I could feel my cervix dilating and somehow had little control over it: it was very clear to me that forcibly keeping my little sister inside my body would harm her, maybe even kill her. Or myself.

"But she can't possibly be 'done'," Casey objected. "All those upgrades take time."

"She must be 'done'," I said. "Because she's coming."

I leaned up to Casey. "If she's this close, she'll have seen all that we just did."

"I know. That worries me." Casey went down the hall to wake Belle from her sleep. The ensulting ruckus woke Clarisse too, which I suppose is just as well, but it means that I had four women in my room surrounding me as I gave birth. What bothered me is that it seemed very involuntary: like when you have to go to the bathroom and can't hold it any longer and I just needed Daisy out for some reason.

I couldn't shake the memory of Cerys having just expelled Rob from her body. Please, please, let my little sister be okay. But I had a bad feeling about this. I didn't even want the thought to cross my mind but it did, inescapably: She's trying to kill herself.

Her head emerged from my birth canal. Nice choice of hair color. Her eyes aren't open, and didn't, at least at first, and when she took a breath it was... small, weak. That's okay. I'm still breathing for her as long as the umbilical is connecting us, and my muscles are really strong, she probably can't expand her lungs while she's inside me.

Belle was the perfect midwife, like she'd done this a thousand times. She gave me encouragement. Clarisse brought water. Casey brought a towel, tried to save the sheet's that we'd just saved from Cerys, but it was a lost cause.

One big push. Daisy's head was fine. The rest of her... not so much. I could feel it as she came out of me; she felt incomplete, broken, came out much too easily and... sloppily.

We all gasped.

I screamed first. "No! Daisy! Please-- please..."

"Oh, my God," I remember Belle saying.

"We should put her... back inside?" I cried.

Belle looked. "Don't panic. Alicia, take the shrinking field off her. You can do that, right?"

"Right."

Daisy, still on the bed in a heap between my legs, grew. But not enough.

"Take that field all the way off."

"It is."

Daisy seems about a third too small. Long spindly extremities, there's a hand on one arm but the other ends in just a... pointy stump? Her skin-- it's covered with hundreds and hundreds of long, thin spines that would have torn my insides up had they been oriented the other way. I was about ready to vomit. I was sure I'd killed my little sister; karmic punishment for what I'd done to Rob.

"I'm texting Mom," Clarisse said.

"Okay, Clarisse, thanks. Okay. First things first. She's breathing. Yes, she's breathing. There. Her eyes are opening. She's alive. We can fix anything else."

Belle leaned up close to Daisy. "Daisy... Daisy... can you hear me?"

We all sat perfectly still and quiet, straining to hear Daisy's whisper over our own beating hearts. I couldn't hear anything. Belle turned her head. "She says she's fine, just needs a few minutes."

Fine? She looks anything but fine.

"She changed her body plan in utero," Casey concluded. "Just like you did, Alicia."

Changed? Into what? My sister looked barely human, dare I say-- ugly.

"She says she's sorry for frightening us like this," Belle said. "Wanted it to be a surprise."

"She's not stupid," I said. "She knows the risks, she'd never have changed her plan without verifying her design first. You can check her computer. Look up the history and see what plan was attempting. Maybe she made a mistake."

"On it," Clarisse said. "I know her key." Casey and Cerys went with her, sprinting out of sight towards Daisy's bedroom,

I watched Daisy's chest rise and fall. She was punishing me, I knew it, and in that moment regretted everything I'd done. I was desperate for her to be okay.

"She's got two extra arms," Belle said, performing a more detailed examination. "Without hands. And these... spines. I've seen them before. I just don't know what they are.

Daisy moved, suddenly, stretching her too-many arms and then relaxing again.


"We need to get her cleaned up," Belle said. Daisy motioned that she wasn't ready for that yet. "Okay, Daisy," Belle said. "Whatever you need, you'll get."

"What is taking them?" I asked, before yelling down the hall. "Clarisse!"

Clarisse came sprinting back. Cerys followed, leaving Casey still poring over Daisy's computer history.

"I don't get it," Clarisse reported. "She did run one validation-- well, part of one. But it was one that's been run before. Her own, Human 4.0 plan. She ran a few parts of that plan a number of times, introduced some intentional errors it seems, watched the failures get reported."

"What? No actual, new plans? Nothing?"

"Just the one that's already been validated, was in widespread use until 5.0 was approved."

"She didn't design something new and then erase it?"

"Not that I could see," Cerys said. "And it was recent. Wasn't long before you unbirthed her. She wouldn't have had time to run an entire plan from beginning to end. But... something else..."

"What?" I asked.

"She had all the source for the validator itself. Open."

"Did she... try to change anything?"

"No. She was just looking at it."

I don't get it. Daisy, what are you up to?

Daisy moved again. "Hungry," she whispered, and this time I could hear it.

Belle picked Daisy up, gathering her appendages and being careful not to spear herself on any of the spines. "You're depleted, Alicia. I've got this."

Belle settled into my recliner with Daisy in her lap, unbuttoned her blouse, and lined Daisy's mouth up with her breast. Daisy latched on and began suckling.

"I am not depleted," I objected, but I let Belle feed Daisy anyway.

"Ah, I get it," Belle said. She was in contact with Daisy, of course!

"What? What is it?"

Belle held up a hand and made us all wait. It was torture. Complete torture. I should have been breastfeeding Daisy, in which case I'd know what's going on and I wouldn't keep it to myself!

"Oh, my God. That's... amazing," Belle whispered.

"What, Belle, for God's sake, what's going on?"

Belle looked up at me. Her eyes met mine. "Your little sister just completely pwned you. All of us, really."

Cerys' eyes lit up. "She wasn't validating a plan. She was studying how the validator itself worked. So she could... do the validation herself? Like... in her... head?"

"She's done more than that," Belle answered. "She transcribed the entire thing into her core genetics. She didn't have to validate the design: her own body did it, automatically."

I found the strength to get up. I walked over to Belle and Daisy, who released herself from Belle's bosom at that moment: "There, that's better. Thanks, Sis."

I was furious. "Daisy... I'm getting really tired of having to ask you this question: What the hell have you done??"

Belle laughed, quietly, to herself. "She can become whatever she wants. No validation, no consensus, no permission." Daisy nodded in agreement.

Belle picked at one of Daisy's spines until, gently, she could lift it away from the others. "These aren't spines, or spikes. They're feathers. And that means that these extra 'arms' aren't arms at all."

"They're... wings," Clarisse said, awestruck.

"Daisy," I insisted, meeting Daisy's eyes directly. "I'm very, very glad you're safe... but you're not about to tell me that you can fly, are you?"

"No. Not yet, of course. It'll take a few days."

"And that's why you lost like... half your weight? For God's sake, why?"

"Because I wanted to," Daisy said.

. . .

Amy dropped everything she was doing and flew home on the next available flight. We descended into chaos. And, off to the side, Daisy, cleaned up, was carefully preening her new feathers with a small tool she invented as we discussed what her little stunt had done. It came down to this conversation, about an hour after breakfast, two days later:

"She's already won," Cerys said. "There's nothing to do now but accept it."

"This isn't about winning!" I said.

"It is to her."

"How, exactly, has she 'won'?"

Daisy herself had been remarkably quiet, taking care of herself as we argued with each other. "It's all about freedom, isn't it? Isn't that all we've ever wanted?"

"My point exactly," Belle said. "Look, Alicia. We're giving people a choice over what they want to be, right? It's that the entire movement's goal-- control over our own bodies? Your sister is going to be flying over the countryside anytime now. People are going to see her. And when they're deciding what they'd rather become-- will that be you, or her??"

"You wanted freedom?" Daisy asked, finally joining into the conversation where she'd been relatively quiet. "Here you go."

"You think-- I mean-- it can't-- you don't seriously expect all of humanity to turn themselves into freaking birds just because you like the idea, Daisy?? People are still afraid of heights, you know!"

"Not just birds," Daisy said. "I thought I'd try this for a while, but... cat-girls... mermaids... elves... giants... heck, dragons, for all I care. Whatever anybody can imagine that's biologically, mechanically possible. And the best part is... it won't be up to you, Alicia."

"It's the end of humanity," Casey said, sliding her hand on my thigh. "So this is... how it ends."

"She's right, though," Clarisse said. "I'd be a good baby dragon, I think. Rawr! When can you spread that ability to me?"

"Soon enough," Daisy said. She stretched her wings. She was, indeed, beautiful, with her colorful yellow feathers, black "racing stripe", long silky hair, slender arms and legs. "I promised you I'd take care of couple of dear friends first."

We watched Daisy as she stepped from our front porch into the yard, took a clumsy few flaps, then turned back to me. "Oh, by the way, Rob says 'Hi'." Daisy then ran towards the street and took off. She disappeared over the treetops without looking back.

"And we thought that the realm of fantastic beasts, for some reason, was in our past," mused Amy. "I'd like us to stick together, if we can. This is going to be chaos for a while. We can protect each other from whatever comes next."

"Wonderful, delightful chaos," Cerys mused. "Good for you, Daisy."

. . .

Damn, I'm alive.

Alive.

Of course you are, silly.

Daisy is soaring -- soaring! -- over the treetops and I'm in shock. Utter, panicked, relieved, shock.

Well, we are.

We're trying to match what we see to a map we memorized earlier because, even though we've invented a way to carry a cell phone with us, Daisy's too new at this, too afraid that she'll fumble and drop it if she tries to retrieve it during her maiden voyage. No. Better to... just enjoy this. The wind, the sun, the... everything. The feeling of being alive. I don't believe in miracles, but maybe, just maybe, one just happened to me.

Most people on the ground don't notice us. A few do. They point up, stare. We wave back at them. They get flustered and try to get the attention of friends and family to come look up into the sky, where we are, before we're out of their sight. A couple of times, we circle for a couple of minutes to allow that to happen, nice big wave, then we're on our way again.

I'm desperately in love with this girl now -- she's given me the gift of life, which is a way of saying that I'm in love with myself, since Daisy and I are now one. I owe everything, my whole existence, to her. If it weren't for her, I would have been gone. Forgotten. All that would have been left of me would have been flushed down the sewer by my ex-girlfriend and her evil bitch partner Alicia. And I doubt the world, a while from now, would have known I ever existed at all. Memory-holed.

Okay...perhaps not an evil bitch. Sorry, that's a bit strong. Just... misguided, I guess? You know my opinion here, no need to repeat it. But I will add a little something...misguided and lacking vision. She couldn't see, all along, that there was a better way. In all fairness, neither did I, not like this.

A way that Daisy found for herself.

Daisy was brilliant. She remained completely quiet inside Alicia, absorbing memories from me well before Alicia "gifted" what was left of me to Cerys. Alicia had no clue it was happening. I still don't completely understand it: I mean... I'm a copy... of myself? Daisy tried to explain it; too long to put into words, but apparently when Cerys brutally destroyed "me"-- a scene which, unfortunately, lives in my memory -- I simply picked up here where I left off there. That...was a shock. The good kind, but a shock.

Daisy's body is very lean and free of those extra biological weapons that her sister has. She has virtually no bosom-- that's all extra weight, you see. Her arms and legs are skinny. And, right now, her bones are hollow, like a bird's. Her only real weapon - possibly the only one she'll ever need - is her ability to spread her programming to others, and she can do so without the onerous unbirthing and four-week pregnancy that would absolutely keep her earth-bound for the duration.

What I could previously do with a computer, she did with her entire body. Tenfold. Amazing.

And yeah, they have to want it. I, and you, have seen the abuses of power that have happened, and I insisted on that. She can't force her "6.0" core genetic sequence on anyone. As it turns out, she didn't even want that ability. We're meant to be together. Meant to be one.

She can, with time and food, change herself into anything she wants to be. Right now she wants to be this, and for that reason life is absolutely, stunningly perfect even though the world's about to be thrown into chaos... again. You think the previous updates caused mayhem? You've seen nothing yet!

Daisy thinks I should be developing my revenge plan for Cerys. I mean... I thought about it, but argued the case with myself and won. No revenge, at least for now. It stops here. There's a passage from an old text I keep remembering which says..."Live well. It is the best revenge." For the time being, I'm going to stick with that.

Cerys can live her life however she wants to. She made it pretty clear what side of the fence she was on, even though Alicia had a big hand in that. I'm not sure I'll ever let her know that I'm here, with Daisy. Daisy mentioned it: 'Rob says Hi', but for now at least I'd rather leave them all wondering if Daisy really meant it or not. For now.

There. Ahead. Yes, the street pattern matches, just southeast of the water tower. Let's be careful here, find all the power lines. We circle higher, watching. Yes, that's Brad's house. It's a beautiful day to fly, to show off these new wings, this new body, only a slight breeze. Brad and his family are outdoors: picnic lunch on their patio. And... yes, that's Stacy. Nobody looking up. Perfect way to make an entrance.

Okay. First time I've tried this. First time I've tried anything. One more loop without letting our shadow cross the picnic table. Pick a spot on the lawn. Legs down. Wings out like a parachute. Float down feet-first. Bend those knees!

It still knocked the wind out of me. Why didn't I practice landing first?

Everyone except Stacy was in shock. "What the--" "Holy--" "What is that?"

Stacy played it perfectly, completely unfazed, no big deal. "Hey, Daisy!"

Of course Stacy knew. She and I had been texting half the night about it. How else would I know that Brad and his family would be home now, much less arranged that they'd have an outdoor picnic lunch?

The only reaction that mattered to me at the moment was Brad's. While Stacy took her time and Brad's parents practically cowered in their seats, Brad came up for a closer inspection.

"You... you can fly?"

I had a snappy response ready but Brad's eyes disarmed me. That part of me which is Rob had never felt something like this before, any kind of physical attraction for a guy. I guess absence does make the heart grow fonder. Anyway, I said something ultra-clever while trapped in Brad's gaze, like: "Uhhhhh'.

"Wow."

"Yes." I looked over at the table. While Brad's mother and father were staring at me, Stacy was continuing her sandwich.

"Oh," I said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt lunch, got here faster than I thought I would." This was true: I'd set my takeoff time on how long it used to take for someone to drive me to Brad's house, back when we were just kids. Flying means a direct route with no stop signs or red lights. Have to keep that in mind. "I'll come back.'

"No--", Brad said, immediately. He still has feelings for me?

My respect for Stacy is, immediately, intense. In their covert makeout sessions, she's kept Brad fully informed of what's going on in my life-- at least, as well as I've been able to inform her. And she's made it clear that Brad can still have feelings... for me.

Suddenly, Brad's father turned to Stacy. "You knew about this?" His mother started to object, and his father turned to her: "She must have known, Leanne. Why else would she have suggested an outdoor picnic now? When was the last time we used this patio?"

Stacy left it my call whether she should be outed or not. Easy call for me, know that her father was on the trail. "She's one of us. Always has been," I said.

"What?? Stacy, is this true??"

Stacy, who had been steeling for this moment, could still only manage an embarrassed nod. Come on, Stacy. Don't let 'parents' intimidate you like that. You have generations more wisdom than they do. Wish I could have said that out loud. But, I suppose, it's hard to break out of the persona of being a sixteen-year-old girl, when that persona has maintained an illusion so perfect that Stacy's been allowed to spend so much time with Rob. Stacy was the safe, "normal" girl that would defend their precious son from all the craziness going on.

"Brad! What has she done to you?"

Brad, now, is on the defensive. He's standing next to me and I want to get in front of him, protect him from his own parents and the mental beating he's about to get.

"Nothing, Mom. Well, she's.. I.. I know everything, Mom. About her, all the stuff that's going on--"

That took twenty seconds to register. That's it, I thought. Panic. I'm about to take your son away from you.

"Please, finish your lunch," I tried to say. "I really didn't mean to--"

Brad's father picked up the second half of his sandwich and threw it on his plate, making the plate and silverware clang. "How can I eat now? What the hell is going on and why is it so bright out here?"

"We never answered your letter," Leanne, Brad's mother, said. "I'm very sorry, D-Daisy." She turned to her husband. "We never answered her letter, Stan."

"Why don't we go inside," Stacy suggested. She'd become, in ways, the daughter that Brad's family always wanted but was too late to have: Brad was an only child. "Daisy and I can explain absolutely everything to you, answer all your questions. Nothing's going to happen."

Well, that's not exactly true, but good move, Stacy.

"Okay?" Stacy repeated. I reset my wings and feathers, essentially re-fluffing myself with the point of showing how light and nonthreatening I was: none of my sister's heavy armor.

"She is the first and only one of her kind," Stacy continued, pointing. "Look at her. She designed that body she's in. She's going to be world famous."

"I have no intention of becoming famous."

"She chose to come here first," Stacy said, selling the point.

"Fine. It's getting too hot out here anyway," Stan said, getting up in something of a huff. Brad walked me from the center of the yard, finally, back to the patio. "How... have you been?"

"It's been interesting," I said, quietly. "I'll tell you later."

Stacy and I stood in front of the family's sectional couch like we were giving some kind of presentation, or were being interviewed. And slowly, slowly enough that they could absorb most of it, we told them everything. I appreciated the venue, actually. Stan and Leanne, Brad's parents, had practiced their own isolationism: the best way to keep your family "safe" was to simply ignore what was going on in the outside world. Now they couldn't ignore it, and Stacy and I had a captive audience.

It felt they were staring at me most of the entire time, even while Stacy was talking. I think they were desperately trying to imagine what it felt like for me to be in the air above them (for my what, eight entire minutes of flight time ever?). Or perhaps they were facing the guilt at having allowed one of us into their son's life after having banished me from it, I don't know. But in any case, the impossible happened.

"Okay."

"Really? Mom? Dad? I can... go with them? I can...?"

"There's no pretending anymore. You're old enough, Brad, and clearly... this... future is happening no matter what your father and I think. You should be a part of it."

"You, too," Stacy told Stan and Leanne. "It'll take a bit longer, but the moment you're ready you call me."

"Think about it, Stan. Soaring through the clouds together." Stan smiled, turned to his wife, and nodded. "I'll have to get some things wrapped up, but... yes. I'd love it. I'd love it with you, hon."

Stacy smiled. "Or swimming, or racing, or... whatever you want. It's going to be spectacular and thanks to your son, you're in on the ground floor."

Brad hugged his parents. Tears came to my eyes, more than I thought would be possible. I'd trimmed things I thought not as essential, you know, to save on weight.
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Re: Greetings from Jessica's vagina! AMA!

Postby Groblek » Sun Apr 30, 2017 5:08 pm

OK, you got me - I couldn't stay away after all, at least not until I saw what had become of Daisy. Well played, Daisy. I'll keep an eye on your further exploits, though I may just skim any more of your sisters' journals for a bit. I'm afraid they've rather thoroughly put me off the idea of spending any more time in their heads.
Cheers,
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27: Sleep tight

Postby dreamweevil » Thu May 04, 2017 5:54 am

Groblek wrote:Sorry, y'all, I think you girls have gone way too dark for me. Alicia, Casey, what you did to push Cerys there pretty much proved Rob's point. Have fun in your brave new world, but I think I'll be taking a break from reading your blog for a bit.


Daisy: I can't say I blame you. Groblek. Heck, I'd have warned you myself if I could have: the survival rate for humans posting to this blog is 50%, if you look at it that way.

Apologies that I couldn't intervene, tell you my plans, but I've been... indisposed, as I'm sure you know. I just had a huge fight (which really amounted to: not talking to) Alicia, and although she's assured me she has no intent on sharing any more of her plans or exploits with any of you, I've changed the blog key just in case. If they complain I'll remind them that it was my blog, my idea. Let them start their own if they want.

Glad to see you're back and that there's somebody out there who feels like I do. Over here I'm feeling pretty much alone, except for Brad, Stacy, and their parents.

A lot happened overnight. Let me catch you up. At first I was going to walk home with Stacy and leave Brad to clean up his affairs at home, come back for him the next day. Stacy talked me out of that: we did not want to blow a rare opportunity, while Brad's parents were still star-struck, prolong a goodbye, and risk anyone changing their minds.

It was weird. Both parents drove the three of us to Stacy's house. I knew what the right way to deal with this was: Keep it lighthearted, divert attention away from the reality of what was about to happen, tell them that Brad would be able to keep in touch (which, through Stacy, he will), and that we'd see them again in four weeks. Then just bounce out of the car like they were dropping us off so we could study Spanish III together or something, a quick good-bye, and get into the house.

Oh, thank goodness that's over with.

Stacy's mother looks pregnant. I've met her once before, but only once: kind, sweet, intelligent like all of us. Older. She's been at 3.0 for years. She explains nonchalantly that her husband is about a week into his long-awaited transformation, so our timing is perfect, and she welcomes us. She's not surprised my my appearance, nor by Brad, none of it. Stacy has shared it with her. I can tell that she's not certain of my trajectory, but is absolutely impressed that somehow we convinced Brad's parents to go along with this, and is happy for her daughter and for Brad.

I'm introduced to Stacy's little sister. She's cute, reminds me a bit of how I used to look at that age, except I never had pigtails. We sit and talk.

It's easy to forget that Stacy's mother is one of us. She seems like... I don't know, a real Mom. Weirder still that she knows what the three of us are about to do, what it means. She packs Stacy's eleven-year old sister up and heads out for mini-golf, a movie, and dinner, to give us the house to ourselves.

There, in the queen bed of of Stacy's guest bedroom, we made several of Brad's unspoken dreams come true. He got to watch, to be in bed with us, as Stacy and I had sex. Oh, my lord, is the girl absolutely delightful in bed. I moved Brad closer, repositioned, locked lips with Brad and put my tongue in his mouth.

You need to feel this, I told him. And then, just like that, he could. This huge sigh of relief from Stacy as Brad's thoughts joined ours, and we were together at last. I never want this to end.

I have a ovipositor like the 5.x plan, if a bit smaller, and with one tiny adaptation: a stinger, of sorts, tiny little part that, during intercourse, can inject my DNA directly into the one I'm mating with. For this to work she really does have to want it because she has to unlock, however briefly, her own core genetics in order to accept mine. But we've gotten, as a "species", pretty good at mentally coordinating these genetic transfers by now. I could have gone the unbirthing route, I suppose... but I needed something faster, something that could catch up, eventually exceed the rate of spread of the 5.x design.

The sting doesn't really hurt. It comes right at the peak of orgasm, and by that point Stacy was so completely wound up that when it didn't hurt more it was almost a disappointment to her. But this is why I say she was delightful: she knew what was at stake, knew what I was about to do to her, and talked (out loud!) me through every part of it, made me want to sting her, squirt my genetics right into her, turn her into someone like me.

When Stacy and I came, She screeched loudly enough that I know everyone in this modest house would have heard, had there been anyone else about. Brad barely contained himself; narrowly averting making our sheets all sticky.

Just like that, Stacy became the second of my kind. I've worked things out such that the infection doesn't cause the flu-like symptoms of the 1.0 - to - 1.5 "infection", or at least it won't be quite that unpleasant, but it does take a few days to get through your entire system before it opens the door to changing your own body plan.

Brad was, technically, still a virgin. Stacy and I decided to deflower him together, at the same time. How many guys get to get laid by two girls at once their first time? (If you must know, it was technically Stacy who "had sex" with him while I sat on his face and kissed Stacy; absolutely mind-blowing. The fact that I'm so much lighter than Stacy made the choice of position seem like a good one.)

There was no biological purpose to this, if you were wondering. But there were two others: we wanted to continue to bond together, become an inseparable group: mission accomplished there. The other was to distract Brad from what was about to happen, relieve his sexual tension, desensitize him a bit to the feeling of being this close to a woman, this much contact with a woman's intimate parts.

My favorite memories of the night: Kissing Brad on the lips and sharing my thoughts with him again that way, while the rest of his body was tightly inside Stacy; smelling her scent on him and feeling the delight inside him as he squirmed inside her. Putting my hand atop his head as Stacy drew him in, such that when it was done my hand was on Stacy, massaging her and getting that scent on myself. Sleeping, spooned behind Stacy. And, especially, when Stacy's mom checked in on us.

It was quite late when I heard Stacy's mother and sister arrive home. I was awake, for reasons I'll explain in a moment. The door to the room opened, just a bit, and Stacy's mother checked on us, counting the number in the bed: two. In shadow I could see her smile. Mom, checking up on her daughter to make sure everything was okay.

It absolutely was. I felt so warmed by that smile, so safe, that I fell asleep almost right away.

My least favorite part of the night came just after Brad was unbirthed. I'd taken my hand from between Stacy's legs so she could complete the process, stretch her legs out straight and clench-- a move that would squeeze the crown of Brad's head beyond Stacy's cervix. Holding Stacy's hand we'd just started to "feel" that cervix close when I this flood of fear came through me like an electric shock, forcing me to let go.

I hadn't considered how this would affect Rob. He had been witness to a human being getting gobbled up by a woman's vagina and felt our pleasure in doing so-- and when we'd temporarily broken the connection, he'd lost his connection to Brad, and any reassurance that what was happening was okay.

"What?" Stacy said, at my sudden disconnection. I explained it to her, apologizing.

"It's okay," Stacy tried to reassure me. "He wants this, remember? Here." Stacy curled on her side and spooned with me, taking my left hand and placing it on her right breast, which re-established part of her connection.

That was helpful but also caused immediate leakage of Rob's worst nightmare: his girlfriend looming above him on a toilet seat, laughing with Alicia and Casey.

I'm never going to be able to rid myself of that memory, am I? The worst part is that it's not even a real memory. I saw this from Alicia's perspective: my copy of Brad's thoughts came from while he was still inside Alicia. It's... complicated.

"Shit," Stacy said.

"Alicia engineered that," I whispered, sharing that story with her.

"And now he's trapped inside you," Stacy said. Continuing out loud: "Rob, there's no way we're letting that happen to Brad. And we'll get you out of there soon enough." Stacy knew that wasn't going to be easy. In this form, I was well short of full reproductive capabilities. I'd have to change myself to something that could breed, and that would take time and would probably mean I couldn't fly, and...

"He knows," I whispered.

Sometimes, saying things out loud, even when you don't have to, makes them more real. Still, I couldn't sleep until Stacy's mom made it okay.
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28: I didn't want to be famous

Postby dreamweevil » Sat May 06, 2017 9:18 am

Daisy: At first I wasn't going to fly again until I had Stacy and Brad by my side. Stacy convinced me otherwise.

I love Stacy. I do. Maybe this is the best thing to happen, the unintended consequence of a group of female (and a few male, yes) scientists, four decades ago, trying to protect themselves from genetic warfare they thought imminent. I can love anyone. Truly love them. I can connect my mind to theirs, feel every bit of concern and wonder and parse out thought processes and share anything on my own mind in hours, if not minutes. I'm not constrained, like the generations before me, of having to love only people from a particular group, a particular gender, or of one person at a time. When I connect to Stacy she's connected to the other people in my life, to the ancestors before me. We are, in so many ways, one. Not a "hive mind" in any way, but... comfortable with each other, on the same channel, free of envy and loneliness at last.

I love Brad too. That's the beauty of it: I can. We can. I love feeling him melting away inside Stacy's body with a really good image of exactly who he wants to become. Though I help out, Stacy is doing a marvelous job helping him through this process, teaching him every little thing about how his own body is put together, feeling the joy as very complicated molecular construction equipment swings into action. The beginning of wonder as he starts to be exposed to the generations of wisdom that the rest of us have.

Though I've been back to my own home a couple of times, I've spent most of my time at Stacy's. I've arranged to visit my own house only while Alicia and company are out (they're out most of the time now, continuing to train and organize Protective Services). I wouldn't put Rob through that encounter, now that I know what it does to him... and to me. At this point I've got just about everything I need from home packed up, and it's not much. Belle convinced me to keep my clothes for now-- I don't need them, in my current form, but now that I can change forms...

I'm not planning to change anytime soon.

I didn't mention that? Sorry about that. Right. No clothes. I can get up in the morning, clean up, and I'm ready to go. Why would I have designed a body that still needs clothes?

From a distance, I look like a woman wearing a fashionable yellow dress with a black diagonal stripe. Still, I'm not quite ready to be out like this in public; get within a few meters and anybody could see that the "dress" is made of feathers. That said, my new body is inherently modest. Even with my wings open my private parts remain private, thanks to some overlapping feathers in the right places (that I'd need to stay warm anyway, particularly at altitude!). Those feathers part (only) when I need them to.

It's immensely freeing, yet I really don't feel like walking around the supermarket like this quite yet.

Stacy, on the other hand, really is housebound. To speed things up, she's burning off some of Brad's extra weight, and her own, by starting her own transformation. I can see that this part-- the early part-- of a body plan change is going to be the worst. In utero, you can just kind of melt away and start over, at least conceptually. Here in the outside world changes have to happen in the right sequence so that you stay viable and alive during it. My genetic plan resolves that, such that, no matter what you're changing into, you can't accidentally kill yourself. It doesn't mean that any part of it is pleasant. Like the first emergence of feathers through human skin, when these little spines stick out pretty much straight and you're itchy and there's no position that you're not sitting on them or lying down on them; you don't want to break many of them but they won't quite lay down flat yet because they're too short. She has little control of her tiny, bony wings at this point: these are brand new nerve bundles that take a while to form, and not enough circulation there yet for those things to grow fast.

She has to go through this slowly due to her pregnancy: she needs to maintain all of the support systems Brad will need to complete his own transformation, and to be born.

This has all been a very long winded way to explain that Stacy finally told me to get out of the house for a while, spread my wings, and so I did. I kept my trips to late evening, worried to death that I'd get lost, but very glad for the cover of darkness.

It didn't matter. There was already online chatter. I know I got my picture taken several times, even... video. Online, Alicia had ratted me out on a different channel. Unfortunately for Alicia, it seems to be backfiring. Here. Have a sample.

ponyluv12 wrote:
Alicia wrote:...my little sister seems to think that her "ingenious" design is an improvement? Doesn't she realize that these "fantastic" creatures she imagines have to eat? Even her own mother thinks this means chaos, the end of a way of life we're just getting to experience for the first time ever!


Actually, I think this sounds kind of fun. I'd try it. When will this plan get released? Where do I sign up?


Stacy, housebound as she is, is all over it. She's collected email addresses and started corresponding with these women, the ones who seem like they'd be good "beta test" subjects, the women who will be pioneers. She's collected GPS coordinates, tentative dates (which are really "dates", in the sense: meet for dinner, get to know each other, perhaps spend the night...?)

Alicia can't do anything about it, for real, because I hold the ultimate defense, at least for the moment. Genetic Recipe Description Language! I've already transcribed 6.0 into that format and could publish it to the world on a moment's notice. Stacy's mother, while sewing up (sewing!) these elastic contraptions that the three of us can use to carry our few essentials with us, hidden under our wings, she also took care of getting the GRDL file and instructions into a safe place.

I absolutely do not want to face publicity alone. Alicia knows I'd have a safe copy of 6.0 somewhere, but humans... not always so intelligent, are they? The humans... the ones who don't plan to join us for various reasons, have been under assault by us women for quite a while now and here's this new threat, embodied in a single young woman with wings? I may be resilient, but I'm not shotgun-proof.

Stacy's mother had barely finished the third elastic pouch-- the larger one, for Brad-- before announcing that it was "time".

Having more direct experience than Stacy, I was invited to stay and assist with the delivery of Stacy's "Dad". Now completely, totally, feminine, unashamed at Stacy and I seeing her naked like that. Female for good reason: As Stacy's mother explained, they're going to trade places for a while. Stacy's mother is ready for her own upgrade, and her "father", now a woman, is going to host it. So, temporarily, Stacy has two mothers, like I had for so long; soon enough she'll have a "mom" and a "dad" again, just the other way around.

I don't know if either of Stacy's parents would have accepted the 6.0 plan yet, but I was somehow too weirded out to even offer it, and neither of them showed they were interested. Stacy's "Dad" was totally into her new body. I suggested, and Stacy immediately agreed, that we needed to take Stacy's little sister out of the house for the afternoon and evening to give those two their own house back for a while! After all, Stacy herself was starting to look presentable again. Blue feathers, gradient colors, really cool and sexy. Not all of them "in" yet, but getting there.

We used the opportunity to visit three other families. Brad's house wasn't too far, so we walked there, had afternoon tea while Brad's parent's marveled over Stacy's new body and asked hundreds of questions about how Brad was doing "in there". Brad was about to enter his final week of his transformation, so it was a good opportunity for him to "converse", through Stacy, just like we'd promised earlier. Stacy showed him the handcrafted elastic pouches her mother had made. Penelope played in Brad's room for a time, with Brad's permission (!). We took a walk from there to Stacy's house, but it turned out her mother was just heading out: a quick kiss to share thoughts and that was pretty much it.

During the walks, Penelope was a ball of questions. She wished, as I did, that we could just fly to where we were going. Stacy patiently explained that she couldn't fly yet nor carry anyone, and as soon as Penelope was just a little older she'd get to do this herself.

"Do you ever lose a feather?"

I nodded. "I haven't yet, but I could. They grow back, like hair, or skin cells. When they do, I can change their color. Which I think I will. Your sister's got a great color theme going."

"Could you run into an airplane?"

"I don't fly up that high. I could hear smaller planes coming."

This went on for a while. I checked my tablet and found that Alicia and friends were home, so we changed our mind and thought we'd take a chance on the movies to kill some time away from the house before finding someplace for dinner.

We didn't get near it. Despite being on a fairly secluded, wooded street, it was inevitable. I heard the words I was hoping not to hear.

"Look! Over there! There she is!"

. . .

Okay. So I've been on the news. We got Stacy and Penelope out of there, thank goodness-- split up and I remained behind, the decoy. I knew I'd have to face this sooner or later.

It was a local station that got the story, but the national networks picked it up. I'm sure you've seen it by now. Not a long segment, thank goodness: I think they didn't know what to do with me, and I told them I couldn't stay long.

Fortunately, I've been rehearsing for this in my head, with Rob. Stay reasonably cool. Answer the questions. Let people know how amazing this is. Make them want it.

It worked.

. . .

I'm standing on Stacy's porch as she tests out her new wings. Slow, sweeping glides over her backyard, trying turns of various radii as she shrieks aloud with delight. I'm dying of impatience. Brad is sitting next to me; we're waiting for Stacy's mother to fix us one "last meal", a lunch, that's taking too long because she's trying to make it perfect.

Stacy has put the entire plan together for us. Some forty-one different stops around the country, rendevous with others who will carry this plan past the border to get it started elsewhere. Stacy's mother brings a big platter to the porch; lemonade, pasta salad, sandwiches, cookies, like she's never going to see us again and has forgotten that we, well, eat like birds for a good reason.

The seemingly most-asked question is the one that irritates me-- if I have to poop while flying, do I--

No. Ick. I'm civilized! There are bathrooms on land, and one is never very far away, especially when you I fly to it. Besides, I think my longest trip ever was about... what, twelve minutes? Why don't they ask how I know where I'm going or if I have any idea what I'm doing, changing the world like this? No. Always the poop question. This is why I don't want any publicity.

We're almost two hours behind Stacy's own schedule.

"Stacy! Lunch is ready!"

"Okay, okay!"

Stacy does a tight little turn and flies up, landing on the porch. She did pretty well; light on her feet. "Oh!" she cries, seeing the food. "Great!"

"I can't believe it's finally time!" Stacy's "Mom" exclaims.

"You're sure you've got money, your credit cards, phones, charger...?"

"Yes, Mom," Stacy says, grinning, as the one she's talking to was Dad not that long ago. I lift one wing to show where I've got everything, the pouch Stacy's mom made, nice and secure. Almost eighty thousand dollars in my account, which will pay for an awful lot of meals and hotel rooms around the country for all three of us.

The food really is delicious, takes my mind off the time of day for the moment. I want to get to our first stop before it's too dark.

"I'm still so worried of all the things that might happen."

"We'll stick together," Stacy says. Brad nods.

Brad's been quiet. It's okay: he's already nervous about repeating this good-bye with his own parents, shortly, and then I with mine. Almost two hours behind schedule. None of us have "dates" the first night, and that makes it the night I'm looking forward to the most as none of us have been intimate at all since shortly after Brad was born. I look at Brad and can read his thoughts: he's thinking the same.

At long last, the goodbyes are over. A long kiss, both parents, sharing thoughts again: good. I take the opportunity to sneak a kiss with Brad, give him a little reassurance. Then it's time.

I feel bad for Penelope. She'd have been fun to take with us. Soon, I guess!

Brad's house is much a repeat. We're offered another meal, even, politely refuse it. More kisses, hugs, the usual. Call us every day, every other day at most. Okay? Okay.

Back at my house. Everyone is there, including Alicia and cohorts. We're cordial. Alicia manages to not trigger Rob's revenge fantasies at all, which is saying a lot. I remind Rob that they're not looking at him: they see me, Daisy, have no idea that he's really here inside me. Brad and Stacy make a great distraction; Stacy with her cool blue feathers and Brad, who's gone for a dark red. I kiss them all, even Alicia.

"Good luck," Alicia says. "Be safe. I'll miss you."

I stroke her hair. "We'll be safe. And we'll be back soon."

I do love them all. Even Alicia. (Sorry, Rob.)

. . .

I have waited for this moment for months. Months! And here it is! Since we haven't practiced taking off next to each other, and the space in my front yard is kind of confined for our pretty substantial wing spans, we have Stacy take off first, Brad just behind, then I follow last. I stall a bit as I watch Brad's legs leave the ground, then look back. I see tears in my mother's eyes, and the awful pun about leaving the nest immediately surfaces. I nod, blow a kiss, then turn and run. My wings pop out, I feel the air under them, then one good sweep and I can lift my legs from the ground and tuck them up under my "tail" feathers. About five flaps and I've cleared the treetops and any power lines, and then I have to race a bit to catch up to Brad. I pull up alongside them.

We're free at last. Really, truly free! Even with the apparent wind it's delightfully quiet, and we work for a while to climb, in silence, just the occasional smile that we can't believe we've done it-- here we are! The first three of our kind! Sure, it's later than we anticipated-- none of those three stops were quick, but now... the entire world is ours, or so it feels. At the same time, seeing the growing expanse of Earth beneath us as we climb, I feel very, very small. There are small lakes near my house I've never seen from the ground, reflecting the afternoon sun. Highways, buildings, more power lines.

We don't need to say anything to spoil it.

Stacy's navigating. She pulls out her tablet, lines up a few landmarks, notes the altitude. Plan is to climb pretty high; the winds are favorable at 4,500 feet right now, or so Stacy informs me. It's an effort: imagine climbing a four-hundred-story building, but we're in no hurry; it feels terrific to exercise these underutilized flight muscles, and the scenery completely makes up for it. She turns and Brad and I follow like it's instinct; nice and smooth.

For that matter, I can tell you that it is instinct. You don't really think about flying, you think about where you want to go, not the second-to-second mechanics of it. Part of the 6.0 design is just this: room for instinct to match one's form, to automate at least some of those things that are native to one's body. A woman doesn't have to be told how to give birth, not really. You don't have to think about how to walk, how to react to surprise. So beyond body plan, 6.0 gives you space for those unique, nonhuman instincts to be "programmed in", yet always under your own control.

It's over an hour before we talk at all, all three of us afraid of spoiling the silence. There is less noise here than there was at lower altitude; no bugs, not even "other" birds. We're being watched, from below, I'm sure of it; but now we're well out of range of anyone on the ground who would think to do us harm.

"Halfway," Stacy says, at last.

"Well," I my two lovers: "What do you think? Worth the effort?"

"My lord. That'd be the understatement of the decade," Brad answers. "Daisy, this is brilliant, absolutely spectacular. I could die right now a happy man... woman... whatever."

"Kind of difficult, isn't it?" I said. "I mean... I have a vagina and all, but at the moment... I'm kind of more of a male, when you think about it. Not out to have children of my own, but rather to spread my "seed" everywhere. It's different. Is that what it feels like to be a guy?"

"You've been inside my head," Brad responded. "You know exactly how it feels."

"About four degrees to our left," Stacy said. "Mind swapping positions with me?"

With a flap I coasted up, over Brad and Stacy's back, and settled into the spot Stacy had been in. Her left wing had been tiring faster than her right, but by this point we were done climbing, maintaining level purely by, yes, instinct. A jet airliner soared well above us now, noisy but pretty; I imagined all those people aboard and wondered if they could see any of us-- probably not.

Our destination is a mid-grade hotel about another hour away, about two-fifths of the first actual leg of our trip. I think I knew we were going to get a late start, and frankly I'd never flown anywhere close to this far, and my two partners hardly at all. If it got dark we'd either have to land right away, stay aloft until daybreak, or chance finding a large lighted area to land and just hope that there are no power lines nearby.

Man, do we have a lot of power lines. And unlike your average neighborhood birds, our wingspans are plenty long enough to get us into serious trouble.

Turns out that we're pretty efficient gliders, and Stacy's guidance on the best altitude really worked out; the second half of the trip was both quicker and easier than the first. (Imagine sliding down a nice, smooth gentle ramp from the top of a four-hundred-story building!)

We did really well on the landing. The satellite and street views were awesome in picking out a landing spot: this hotel had a nice, big, empty front lawn that was perfect. We walked in, got the expected number of stares, checked in as though we'd just been dropped off by a limousine, and that was that.

Most of the people staring were women. But then, these days, most people simply are women, right?

. . .

Okay, now there absolutely no question (as if there ever was!) that Brad and Stacy are my soulmates for life. Stacy woke me up with about fifteen minutes to check out. And while we hadn't the mad, passionate, first-night-alone-together-ever sex that I'd been hoping for, we did something at least as good: we slept connected the entire night. Our dreams replayed the day-- how could they not? -- to the point where, when Stacy's tablet buzzed on the nightstand, all three of us were set for the disappointment that it had all been a dream. Yet, on opening my eyes, there's Brad's feathers in my face, my loins pretty firmly connected to his, Stacy on the other side.

Stacy had cleverly booked this late start into the plan. We got up, brushed our teeth, and got to the front counter just as the clock hit eleven AM. Then breakfast... or lunch, really, since they'd stopped serving breakfast already.

The hotel was crowded now, and there was no way not to be seen. With our tab settled, a mother was holding on to her little girl, who was tugging, curious. People still have little girls? The mom was clearly like "us", 5.0 probably. I knelt down, my tail feathers brushing the floor.

"Are those real?" she asked, pointing at one of my black feathers.

"They sure are," I answered. "Hi! I'm Daisy. What's your name?"

"You're the one on TV!"

"Honey," the mother said, "Let--"

"It's fine," Stacy intervened. "If this is a public relations tour... then this is what it's all about."

Brad introduced himself to the girl's mother: nice handshake, comforting yet authoritative. Nice choice of a male persona, and as I looked up at him, those dark red feathers of his, no rearrangement of my thoughts could cause me to see him as strange in any way. I was suddenly very, very glad that he was mine.

"Pleased to meet you."

I saw, in the woman's eyes, a rather sudden sense of understanding. This is what it was about. Fantasy made real. With all that this woman must already know, to be "one of us", and still have her thrown by a simple handshake, was my first-ever reassurance that I'd chosen the correct path.

The girl looks back at her mother, who nods her permission. 'I'm Melissa," she said. "So you... you can fly?"

"We're going to, in a few minutes, if you want to watch." I pointed through the hotel's front windows towards its lawn. "Right out there."

"Is it as much fun as it seems like it'd be?"

"It sure is," Stacy answered. Brad nodded in agreement. "It takes some work and planning, but... once you're up there."

"So far I think I like the landings best," Stacy said.

Now we had a small crowd around us, murmuring.

"Right now it also seems to come with a fair bit of extra attention,' I said. 'But imagine when everybody can do this."

"I'll be able to?" Melissa asked, turning to her mother again.

"I don't see why not, when you're a little older and done with school." Melissa's mother turned to Brad and Stacy. "You've got plenty of time and something to look forward to!" I added.

"When... do you think you'll release that plan?"

That was going to turn out to be the second most popular question, behind "Can you fly?" and thankfully ahead of the poop question. "We're kind of in a beta test right now," I answered. "It has to go through the entire validation. I rushed through it myself because of... circumstances. Soon. Definitely by the end of the year."

"Did you hear that?" one woman excitedly whispered to her partner. "By next spring we could be soaring among the clouds...?"

Belle wrote:Who do you think they'd rather be: you, or her


I reached under my left wing for my pouch, and pulled out a card I'd printed out back at home. "If you want to stay in touch, scan that. I only have one, I'm afraid, so if you'd just pass it around..."

I turned my attention back to Melissa. "You'd be great, Melissa. Study hard and you're going to make the world a better place. I can tell." Melissa was getting near the point of being overwhelmed, so I stood up. "It was a real pleasure to meet you, Melissa. I hope we see each other again!"

"Me too," Melissa said. I shook her hand, and her mother's.

I love this. I didn't think I would, but I do.

Brad looked at his watch. The only one of us with the foresight to actually have a watch. "We should get going." We didn't have a particular time in mind: it was an act to escape the crowd and bring this to a conclusion, but it worked.

"If anybody'd like to watch, we'll be right out front-- there."

When you have tail feathers like these you have to be careful with revolving doors. With that hazard averted for the second time, we made it outside, a small contingent of curious people behind us asking a few additional questions, all innocuous.

"That was a better sales pitch than anything else we could have done," Brad whispered to me as we moved away from the crowd.

"I'll say," Stacy said.

We spread our wings at the same time, eliciting some "oohs" and "aahs", and, with renewed confidence (and more space than my front yard), sprinted away from the hotel and took off together. We circled back to wave at our audience, and since this building was only five stories high elected to just sail over the top of it, out of view.

"That was fun," Stacy said. She was leading right now, I to her left and Brad to the right. Stacy pulled out her tablet, held it close while tapping on it so as not to create undue drag. "Good, no changes here." Without speaking, she turned to her right and we followed. "You'll be happy to know we only need to get to twenty-three hundred feet today.
That gets us in at about two-twenty five or so, if we keep yesterday's pace."

To me that seemed too quick; I could stay up here all day.

Brad pulled earbuds from his pouch and called his parents. "Hey, mom, guess where I am!" He sent them some video from eleven hundred feet, then turned the camera to get a shot of Stacy and I. Our wings almost touch, we're so close.

I pulled my own tablet. "Okay. I'll text our arrival time." Right. "ponyluv12", here we come.
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Re: 27: Sleep tight

Postby Groblek » Sun May 07, 2017 1:57 am

dreamweevil wrote:
Groblek wrote:Sorry, y'all, I think you girls have gone way too dark for me. Alicia, Casey, what you did to push Cerys there pretty much proved Rob's point. Have fun in your brave new world, but I think I'll be taking a break from reading your blog for a bit.


Daisy: I can't say I blame you. Groblek. Heck, I'd have warned you myself if I could have: the survival rate for humans posting to this blog is 50%, if you look at it that way.


True, but it's a very small sample size, and judging by the counter where I'm reading this, there are a lot more people reading this who aren't inclined to venture a comment. I'm honestly not all that concerned about my personal safety. Even leaving aside the fact that I'm not foolish enough to threaten you all, I don't think I could. As best as I can tell, I'm still temporally contemporaneous with when Jessica and Dean started this blog. If that - between the way you play with space-time to set up that shrinking field and whatever you all did to set up that time skip, you seem to have given the laws of physics a bit of a hangover. I'm not at all certain I'm even in the same timeline as you lot. I rather hope you are, as even with recent events on here, I still think your future would be a change for the better. Just because it's no perfect utopia doesn't mean it's not an improvement.

Anyway, I'll definitely keep reading to see where your latest tweaks lead. Incorporating the validation tools into your own body plan is a masterstroke worthy of the maddest of geniuses. (From me, that's a compliment - but then I've always been fond of the Mad-Scientist types.) I predict that people will look back on this body plan of yours and see it, not all the prior revisions, as when the world truly changed completely.
Cheers,
Groblek
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Re: 27: Sleep tight

Postby dreamweevil » Sun May 07, 2017 7:59 am

Groblek wrote:True, but it's a very small sample size, and judging by the counter where I'm reading this, there are a lot more people reading this who aren't inclined to venture a comment. I'm honestly not all that concerned about my personal safety. Even leaving aside the fact that I'm not foolish enough to threaten you all, I don't think I could. As best as I can tell, I'm still temporally contemporaneous with when Jessica and Dean started this blog. If that - between the way you play with space-time to set up that shrinking field and whatever you all did to set up that time skip, you seem to have given the laws of physics a bit of a hangover. I'm not at all certain I'm even in the same timeline as you lot. I rather hope you are, as even with recent events on here, I still think your future would be a change for the better. Just because it's no perfect utopia doesn't mean it's not an improvement.

Anyway, I'll definitely keep reading to see where your latest tweaks lead. Incorporating the validation tools into your own body plan is a masterstroke worthy of the maddest of geniuses. (From me, that's a compliment - but then I've always been fond of the Mad-Scientist types.) I predict that people will look back on this body plan of yours and see it, not all the prior revisions, as when the world truly changed completely.


Daisy: I'm really honored! I only have my tablet with me now, and only a pretty crappy hotel wifi signal for that matter, so I can't really look up your time offset at the moment. I can tell you a bit about how it works, but I won't presume that I can give the world's best explanation. Think of this blog as connecting two different points in spacetime. Thanks to a feature of relativity, we're actually in in each others' future, but since we're in different (but related, thanks to this link!) planes we both perceive that we're corresponding with each other in the present. It means you can talk to me and I can answer you. You can influence what I do and I can tell you what happens. You happen to be the beneficiary of the fact that we can re-link the connection at either end...

Oh-- wait, here. I do have it. Your end was first pegged at January 28, 2017, right, and it's now... what. Ah, May 7, 2017. Or at least it will be when you read this. But since we've adjusted your link endpoint several times, over here that three months represents a bit more than twenty years. I mean... you didn't really want to wait eleven of your years just for a little girl to remember who I used to be, right?

Rob McLeane fooled us. Even though, when I look back at it, he did leave clues that he was on our timeline, we misread that. He was on our endpoint of the link, not yours, but that wasn't immediately obvious; he'd found the key that allowed him to join the blog anyway, and that's why he was a threat. You're not. You could run to your authorities right now, all breathless: "This group of women figured out how to genetically engineer... and now... unbirthing... and... they're taking over...". They'd rightfully question your sanity because none of these things have happened in your parallel universe yet. Rob was in ours, we just didn't see that early enough. His running to the authorities, if he had actually done that when he first cracked the encryption, would have resulted in a very different story than the one you're reading now.

So you get to see what could happen... or what's going to happen, perhaps, without being caught up in it to quite the extent that Rob has been. I get the pleasure of corresponding with people who are (for now) in a nice normal world, like ours might have been if not for a few different choices that happened along the way. I get the pleasure of sharing all these intimate (too intimate? you tell me!) details with you: I can tell you anything about my world or myself without embarassment: when Dean suggested that the title included "AMA", he meant it, and I have every intent of following through with that. And I love hearing the feedback and questions. It brings your world a little closer to ours.

I've thought about unlocking the link on my end so all of the people of my own time could read it, but then I wouldn't be able to share the personal details of what real people over here are doing and thinking. Pamela Larkin, who you're about to meet, would probably not want her neighbors to be alerted to what she's planning, and probably be embarrassed if everyone knew what she was thinking. But, with our encryption problem fixed, I can tell all of you without any ethical dilemma whatsoever.

Rob, by the way, is still not sure what he's going to do. He loves flying with me -- in my way of thinking, who wouldn't? -- but he's also aware that the more time he spends in my brain the more alike we'll become, and the harder it will be to be for me to "let him go" into a body of his own. But this is a very slow process, or at least I'm doing my best to keep it that way, so he's got time. He's interested in getting some ideas from the people we're visiting. He does chafe a bit when I write about the "three of us", Stacy, Brad and I, but I remind him that he and I truly count as "one" for the time being, and maybe that's even better.

Oh, by the way, if anyone else out there in that timeline (not having hacked your way into mine!), has questions or just wants to say "hi", please feel free. I won't bite; I couldn't if i wanted to!

Love,
Daisy
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29: ponyluv12

Postby dreamweevil » Sun May 07, 2017 8:10 am

Daisy:
Brad and I spotted the sign, "Larkin Farms", from about 400 feet up; carved in wood, green and white paint, and lined up a landing right out front. We stalled a bit to wait for a produce truck to pass, then touched down on the road just next to the sign.

"They're here!"

I didn't spot the owner herself until I heard those words. She'd been looking the wrong way, apparently, heard our boots (okay, the one bit of clothing I do wear) scuff the dirt. She'd expected for some reason that we'd approach along the road in front of her farm, not perpendicular to it.

"Nice landing," I told Brad.

"Indeed," he said. "We're getting good at this."

Stacy was on her own at this stop. Her "date" was about four miles from here and we'd parted ways about four minutes ago.

The screen door banged open. "Did I miss it??" A second woman, fumbling with some kind of camera. "Oh, darn, I missed it!"

Brad twirled his finger horizontally, making a "loop" gesture. "We could always..."

"Could you?"

"Eleanor! I'm sure they're tired!"

"No, really, no problem at all," I said, motioning to Brad.

"Wait!" Eleanor said. "Okay, is that on? Yes, it's on--"

"For goodness sake, Eleanor!"

Before further arguing could ensue, Brad and I took off again the way we'd come, made it to the far end of the field across the street and looped again, repeating the same landing. This time, perhaps the knowledge that I was on camera, and I stumbled a bit on the landing. Usually I like to drop straight down that last few inches, barely touch with my feet.

Eleanor and one other woman scooted from the (literally) farmers' porch down to the walkway to greet us.

"Daisy, Brad, an honor to meet you. I'm Pamela Larkin. This is my assistant Eleanor Merkle." There were four other sets of eyes on us through the windows.

"Pleased to meet you!"

"That was so absolutely awesome! I didn't mean to put you out by making you take off and land again like that."

"No problem at all," Brad said. "It's fun."

"But you must be tired!" Pamela said, leading towards the house. "How far did you just travel?"

"Just over 300 kilometers," I said. "About 188 miles."

"Wow," Eleanor said. "You must be hungry and thirsty, too." Please, we've love to share our hospitality..."

I looked at Brad. Eleanor was to be his "date" for the evening. She's attractive: tall, strong, looks poured into form-fitting jeans, high brown leather boots, fringy top. I wait for a tiny nod of approval from Brad, and get it.

. . .

I'm alone with Pamela Larkin now, touring the farm as Brad gets his own tour elsewhere. "You girls are about to cost me one the best farmers I've known," she tells me. "But I can see the appeal, flying like that. I'd never deny her anything."

"I get the feeling she'd more than your 'assistant', your partner."

Pamela nodded. "She's terrific. Loves me to death, helped make this place what it is today. It's a family farm, yes, but my dear old Dad had the brilliant idea to go totally organic before it was fashionable. So we've done really well. I don't just mean "organic" as in we use a little less pesticides, or a "GMO Free" label...

"Hmmm... technically I'm a GMO," I muse.

"As am I, of course. No, we've advanced the art and science well beyond that. How would these plants have staved off disease and predators before there were humans around to manage it all? I've got a team of two botanists and two biologists on staff. We figure that out. Simplified. No chemicals, no pesticides, no toxic runoff. We don't produce quite as much per acre as other organic farms, but more than make up for it in quality."

And income. Pamela Larkin is the wealthiest woman in the county, by far. 55 years old before she was finally unbirthed and converted to her present form, she combines her own substantial wisdom with our own, packaged into a stunning body.

And yes, she knows farming, and horses.

The barn is huge. Immaculately clean. It's got solar panels on the roof.

"So... what inspired you to want to be a centaur, really?"

She touches a button on the barn door and it opens on its own. It's air conditioned! And clean! And--

"Doesn't smell like a barn, does it?"

"No, now that you mention it. How...?"

"Most farms that have animals have this immense problem with the animals' waste. Biohazardous, you know. They store it in huge, putrid lagoons. My scientists, instead, solved the problem at its source." She pointed at a pile of droppings on the floor; nearby, a farmhand spotted the situation and went to grab a shovel.

"No flies. No odor. Because the feed is matched precisely to what the animals need, and all of our animals have been bred accordingly. No odor because the toxic bacteria can't live in the stuff. Which means it needs very little time to become bacteriologically safe-- I mean, technically it's safe right away but the regulatory agencies require us to make sure, haven't caught up--"

"So... you can use it as fertilizer?"

"Without poisoning or sickening our customers. And no chemical fertilizers or pesticides at all, like I said. More than just 'organic'."

The "stalls" for the horses didn't have doors. And they were huge. Comfortable. You could live in one.

"This is why, Daisy. Love the name by the way."

The mare that Pamela showed me was beautiful. She clearly knew Pamela, nuzzled her head against Pamela's hand. "This is Delilah." Another horse sauntered over. "And Taylor. Okay, girl, you'll get attention too."

"They're beautiful," I said. These horses were treated like royalty. Following Pamela's lead, I just watched them for a while

"These creatures used to roam free by the hundreds, Daisy. Until we ruined it for them. Pens. Fences. Barbed wire. Tiny stalls. We "broke" them to bend them to our will, forced them to do the work we didn't want to do for ourselves. There are few if any wild horses of any kind left. They've done so much for us that... it's time to give something back, that's all. An advocate. My farm runs itself now, Daisy, one hundred and thirteen very dedicated women... well, one hundred and twelve if Eleanor can't get her head out of the clouds once Brad is done with her... by the way... boyfriend?"

"Yeah," I said. "We've been great friends since third grade."

"And you don't mind loaning him out like this? I would."

"It's for a good cause," I said.

"And you'll share all the memories of the encounters later? Cute. Anyway, Daisy, The one thing I can give these beautiful animals is a voice in our world."

"Then...? You'll be a true centaur, the world's first."

"That's the idea." Pamela grabbed a groomer's brush and ran it over Taylor's side. "I know what you're thinking, Daisy... that's it's going to be really difficult transformation."

"Well, yeah. I... just want to make sure you know what you're getting into. You're going to have to gain a lot of weight... I mean..."

"About fifteen hundred pounds, maybe more."

"That's a lot of food, for a human mouth."

"Which is why I need to do this, Daisy. I'm one of the few who can. I have the privilege of being able to afford it, and of having such a wonderful group of women to help me through it."

"So... all of your employees are..."

"Women? I insist on it. They weren't all women to start with, of course. But I insist on the 4.0 core genetics, at a minimum. That upgrade is part of our sign-up bonus. That's why we're such a tight group, why we work so well together."

"I... see."

Pamela started brushing her other horse, eliciting a whinny from Taylor, who apparently didn't want her to stop.

"Look at her. So strong. So powerful. The muscles that operate her reproductive system alone are more powerful than all of yours put together." She looked at my relatively skinny frame: my largest muscles are the ones that operate my wings, and the way those are positioned you can barely see them. "Or mine," she quickly added.

"So... you'll... unbirth them... all?" I looked around at the various farmhands.

"Oh, God, no, not by myself. But I'll have help. Daisy. I hope to be just one of a thundering herd of us in... two years or so."

My tablet buzzed. I lifted my left wing enough to retrieve it, read the message. "It's Brad. Ummm.... Nancy Tillerson..."

"She's my lead food safety officer. Yes?"

"Brad would like your okay to grant her the 6.0 core also."

Pamela looked away for moment. "She doesn't need my permission, but consider it granted. Eleanor and Nancy together... they're going to exhaust your boyfriend, Daisy. He's a lucky guy!"

I texted the response back to Brad: "Go for it", with a wink and heart emoji, and got the heart emoji back plus "Love you!"

"Okay," I said.

Pamela hung up the brush. The second mare, Taylor, sensed that food was being put out for her, and sauntered away, and I followed Pamela out of the barn.

"I'll be very happy to share the entire vision with you, Daisy... if you still want... and then you can decide whether I'm worthy of it--"

"I've already decided," I said. "Of course you are."

Suddenly, Pamela acted like the much younger woman, more in line with her appearance. "Really? You approve?"

"Of course! I just want you to know that will greatly limit your lifestyle. Yes, you can change back, with the core genetics, but it will take some time and be just as awkward."

"I don't plan on changing back."

"I see that. But no more running out for a night out at a restaurant, can't go in an elevator, drive a car--" I'd noticed the pair of luxury cars in the garage behind the house.

"You don't need a car. Or plane tickets."

I nodded. "Point taken."

. . .

The "house" is actually huge.

"It's too much space for me," Pamela explained. "Back when I had only thirty full-time employees, one lost his house in a fire, so I set up a room. Now I've got twelve of my staff living here with me. But it's worked out quite well. Marceline here is an amazing cook--

We walked into the dining room just as Brad, Eleanor, and Nancy were leaving it. I nodded at Brad, he smiled back, heading towards a bedroom elsewhere in the house. The furniture was all heavy wood; a thick, dark table which one of the other staff members were clearing and resetting for Pamela and I, and two other staff members were still chatting while they had their dinner. Pamela pointed at a chair for me: I could barely move it.

Pamela and I enjoyed an amazing, farm-style dinner of the freshest foods I'd had in quite a while. It was delicious. I was imagining how I might be able to give this up for hundred-pound bags of Horse Chow or some such thing; no way.

Finally we got to her bedroom. Here, for the first time, Pamela Larkin seemed nervous. I closed her bedroom door.

"So... what do we..."

"Relax. Let's get to know each other, just explore and play." I sat on her bed, unclipped my boots and took them off. I had pretty ordinary-looking feet: I think Pamela was expecting talons or something. "There, I'm undressed."

I stood and helped Pamela from her clothing. I almost had to force myself: the idea of putting my hands on another woman's jeans, unfastening her belt for her, unsnapping... just seemed foreign. I think it's the aura that Pamela sends out: powerful, in charge; where in once sense I'm a sixteen-year-old girl that has no place changing the world like this.

"I wasn't sure you were going to like my plan," Pamela said. Finally, she was starting to relax. I helped her off with her blouse, and took a chance and ran one hand over a cup of her brassiere. She was larger up top than Stacy or I used to be, but the way she dressed mostly hid this. I wasn't sure if I was jealous or not.

I suddenly realized that I had very little to offer in this way: my body is covered with feathers, i don't have any of those obvious sexy parts that a real woman has, none of the curves or warmth or substance. So I elected to make up for it with technique. With Pamela standing before me, jeans around her ankles, I unfastened her bra, then slid my hands down her sides, along her hips, hooked the waistband of her panties and slid them down; then stared as though Pamela's bush was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen: breathed like i was entranced by it. I ran my fingers through her pubic hair; took in her scent.

"I don't... know what... to do..." Pamela said. She put her hand on my shoulder. "I don't know how your body... don't want to hurt you..."

She lifted up one feather on my shoulder to see if that hurt. It didn't.

"Come on," I said. "I'll show you."

Before laying her down on the bed, I kissed Pamela, touched my tongue to hers. I didn't have much of a message for her yet: just "relax".

I explained how she'd feel a little sting, when it was time, but also that we were going to avoid rushing the process. I only had her to infect, after all, and an entire night to do it, unlike Brad.

I felt so different, so alien now! I could lick Pamela's body, which I did; she couldn't lick mine. Just as I started to get my tongue down to her thighs, triggering the near-involuntary spreading of her legs; could tell she wanted to reciprocate but didn't know how.

"Here," I said at last, "I'll show you."

I swung a leg over Pamela Larkin's head, and with a little concentration opened the feathers over my genital slit. This moves them completely out of the way and exposes my skin; it's how I can go to the bathroom without getting any feathers wet.

Pamela grabbed my hips and pulled me down onto herself, and I buried my head between her thighs. We made contact, mentally, at both ends at the same time, which is always, always, very intense. I could feel my body become still as we entered each other's thoughts. At first I got the sense that Pamela was nervous about what I would find, so I tried a simple distraction:

I love your body, I said, sending my appreciation for touching her labia, her scent, and a mental picture of what I saw. I leaked my own surprise and disappointment that, if she did as she planned, she wouldn't have this part any more!

I don't, Pamela answered.

Really? Why?

Way too delicate, Pamela responded. We compare it to a flower! She sent me the image of what she was going to have instead. Rather than admittedly delicate lips, she'd have large, strong, almost rubbery-grey labia well-hidden between her buttocks and under an impressive tail. An opening that, at her command, could swallow an adult human without shrinking him or her first. A uterus that could impose her will on anyone who entered.

We imagined it together. She took this from the inevitable moment of hesitation that any human, no matter how willing, would have; just as this massive creature begins that rhythmic undulation, birth canal opening to claim a few more inches of the puny human body it was swallowing. That slight bit of resistance, like her imaginary human "victim" was crying "Not yet!" without words but Pamela wouldn't care; instead she'd wrap her tail around the person to help pull him in -- Is that a design you're considering? Perhaps -- enjoy those tortured squirms, squirt voluminous lubricant from her opening onto the puny human's body, take the other arm without asking, hold her rump high and proud into the air and lift the humans' feet from the ground and then swallow him entirely. Gravity would propel him down her smooth birth canal into her womb, spacious enough (for a human) that Pamela imagined that human turning around, looking up that impossibly slippery slope to the outside, so Pamela could slowly, teasingly, close herself up.

I'm sold, I said. I disconnected from Pamela, turned myself around, and had her watch as I extended my ovipositor. Then I lay back down atop her, and slowly penetrated her.

My tongue slipped into her mouth so I could resume the fantasy Pamela was spinning for me. A human, inside her, plunged slowly into equine darkness, then two massive horse-ovaries getting to work. The puny human is no match for them, and succumbs. Pamela imprints herself onto her captive. She has to eat, quite a bit, to add weight to the one inside her, but that's no problem: she imagines herself in that barn she built, several humans tending to her every need. Long bones form inside her uterus. The human's digestive system changed, rearranged. A new uterus, ovaries like her own. Strength. Power. Speed.

Pamela estimates that it will likely take eight to ten weeks for this to happen, and I agree with her. She imagines giving birth: her "foal" will be much smaller than she is, but will grow quickly. Soon the barn is busy with centaurs just like herself, most "pregnant" as she converts her people into beings just like her. Soon enough, just as she wishes: a thundering herd, unstoppable, undeniable, with the desire and intelligence to change everything: tear down fences, reclaim land for running and breeding and just enjoying life: working to become a part of the new ecosystem I've imagined--

Boom. This wasn't the biggest orgasm I've ever had, but Pamela sent me over the edge. My stinger penetrated her, deep inside. I opened my eyes: she felt it, reveled in it, and I unloaded the new genetic code deep into hers, and then held myself still while it took effect, while the infection spread through Pamela's body and upgraded her unlocked core genetics.

We slept, then, still connected to each other.

I know Stacy did a great job screening our beta-test candidates, and it may seem surprising, but this is exactly what I was hoping for.

Stacy's date drove her over to the farm in the morning, and Pamela's crew invited both of them in for breakfast, so we and our "dates" all ate together. Brad, surrounded by the two women he'd "infected" overnight, did look a little worse for wear, but smiled at me with just a hint of longing; I knew he couldn't wait to share his experience with me, as I did with both he and Stacy. I could see Stacy taking mental notes: four infected. Two that want to fly like us; one centaur; one as-yet undecided. From three to seven: We'd more than doubled our number overnight.

When it was time to go-- and this was the earliest start we'd had in quite a while-- I thanked our guests for their amazing hospitality, and that I looked forward to visiting again. Pamela and the others appreciated that. Eleanor was still abuzz with questions about flying: Brad finally had to tell her to just trust her instincts, and that she'd be fine, and that we'd look her up next time we were in the area for a little group soaring.

Finally, we're back into the air and on our way. We didn't tell our guests that we'd already booked a room, just for the three of us, only about 120 miles away. This was Stacy's idea again: we had no idea how this first night was going to go, and she thought we'd need some time on our own to rest, share, process. She was right. Mostly I wanted to be snuggled into Brad and Stacy's wings, and be loved.
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Re: Greetings from Jessica's vagina! AMA!

Postby Groblek » Wed May 10, 2017 12:57 pm

Wow. I'm definitely standing by my comment about how this new design of yours is going to be looked back on as the true moment everything changed. Pamela's idea is fascinating, bringing centaurs from mythology into the real world. As someone who hangs around fantasy & sci-fi geeks who are also biologists, I've seen all sorts of assessments of what it would take to make that body plan work in reality. I do hope you keep in touch with Pamela, I'd love to hear how it actually works out for her and her future herd-mates.

Also, between yourself and Rob, and then Jessica and Amy, you're all exploring the details of human consciousness in ways I find fascinating. The fact that Rob's sense of self managed to pick up in your body when what was left of his original one was eliminated has all sorts of fascinating implications.

And if Amy's still able to read this (or you're OK relaying messages) and willing to talk about it, I'm very curious about the extent of her merger with Jessica. Was/is it a complete and seamless fusion of the two of them into one persona, or is any of Jessica still partly separate as a kind of silent partner (Kinda like you & Rob, only more intimately joined.)' or something else entirely?

I also can't help wondering if splits are possible as well as mergers - whether someone could essentially split off a part of their personality into a child they're growing?

Finally, if no one's already brought it up among your community, I'd bet money that some people start thinking about how to use this to make space colonization easier, both in reducing transport costs and making it easier for people to adapt to the environment at their destination. I know plenty of people (male and female) who would willingly sign up to be turned into eggs and made dormant for the duration of a trip to Mars or somewhere farther away, if that actually got them even a small chance of being reborn on another planet. And plenty who would be willing to be the "mothers" to the colony if it let them get humanity to the stars.
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Re: Greetings from Jessica's vagina! AMA!

Postby dreamweevil » Fri May 12, 2017 9:50 pm

Groblek wrote:Wow. I'm definitely standing by my comment about how this new design of yours is going to be looked back on as the true moment everything changed. Pamela's idea is fascinating, bringing centaurs from mythology into the real world. As someone who hangs around fantasy & sci-fi geeks who are also biologists, I've seen all sorts of assessments of what it would take to make that body plan work in reality. I do hope you keep in touch with Pamela, I'd love to hear how it actually works out for her and her future herd-mates.


I'm hoping to do more than keep in touch... we're planning to return to these places later to see how things are working out. I'll tell you this: Pamela's undergoing something I don't think I'd have the courage to try myself. It's not the body plan, but how you get get there from here. The validation makes you walk through that entire construction plan in your head, and tries to prevent you from killing yourself, but it doesn't guarantee that the transition is pleasant.

Pamela walked me through her transition while we were together. She has to sprout two legs, which initially will be above her present hips, connected to a new skeletal member just above her current pelvis. She'll develop a very awkward bend to her spine. Her current human legs become her hind legs; her rear end will gain fur and a tail; and as she starts to gain weight she'll lose the ability to walk until she can get all four legs on the ground-- two front hooves and two rear feet, then finally she'll trade those back feet for hooves. She'll look like a weirdly-proportioned, way-too-short centaur at that point, with her front and rear legs too close together. Then she'll grow, and as she does her body will stretch out start to take on a normal shape. Normal for a centaur, that is.

Also, between yourself and Rob, and then Jessica and Amy, you're all exploring the details of human consciousness in ways I find fascinating. The fact that Rob's sense of self managed to pick up in your body when what was left of his original one was eliminated has all sorts of fascinating implications.


I agree. Many of my colleagues here have been writing about that. At the core is the so-called "transporter paradox", which seems to be unsolvable. Do I have a copy of Rob McLeane that just thinks he's Rob, or did the original wake up inside me at the moment his miserable "girlfriend" finished him off? Does it matter?

Some researchers are starting to think that there might be actual quantum entanglement involved, but as you can imagine there's not a lot of research money available.

And if Amy's still able to read this (or you're OK relaying messages) and willing to talk about it, I'm very curious about the extent of her merger with Jessica. Was/is it a complete and seamless fusion of the two of them into one persona, or is any of Jessica still partly separate as a kind of silent partner (Kinda like you & Rob, only more intimately joined.)' or something else entirely?

I also can't help wondering if splits are possible as well as mergers - whether someone could essentially split off a part of their personality into a child they're growing?


I just got off a call with my Mom and she agreed to join us for a bit-- I've been wanting to ask the same thing myself for a while. While she gets set up let me take the second part of your question first. It's complicated. At one end of the spectrum; yes. I've got part of of my mother's personality, her values, right? But I don't think that's what you're asking.

The problem for humans so far is that babies don't have sufficiently mature brains to accept all the thoughts of an adult. So my great-(great-) grandparents came up with the idea of serializing all those thoughts in a special kind of DNA, and locking it down with a hormone-based trigger. If Rob McLeane goes that route, he won't remember who he used to be until the girl he becomes reaches puberty.

But that's the human -- 5.0 -- design. We may very well be free of those constraints now. Depending on how I adjust my own form, I could probably deliver a fully grown "daughter" with a brain that could absorb my thoughts right away, right? It's what I'm thinking I might have to do for Rob, once I can give up the skies for a while. Perhaps someone else will invent a better way?

Ah. Hang on. Okay, Mom?

Amy: Hi again! Oh, I miss this!

Daisy: So the question: Are "Amy" and "Jessica" still separate at all, like Rob and I are at the moment?

Amy: Well, I can't say much about you and Rob, but, no. There's no "me" and "her" at all. Not in the slightest; "we" didn't want that in the least.

We wanted to be one person more than anything. And, deep inside your sister's belly, we did just that. We left all individuality behind by choice; our mission was to completely fuse together so tightly we could never, ever, be separated ever again, that we could be an amazing new person, the absolute best of the two people we used to be.

I regret that I had to take the name of one of the two people that became "me", that people's perception is that Jessica is gone and "I" am still here. This couldn't be further from the truth. We became who we wanted to be. What nature and desire had been driving us to become. One.

Okay?

Daisy: Thanks, Mom. You're the best.

Amy: Get home soon, love! I miss you.

Daisy: I will.

Finally, if no one's already brought it up among your community, I'd bet money that some people start thinking about how to use this to make space colonization easier, both in reducing transport costs and making it easier for people to adapt to the environment at their destination. I know plenty of people (male and female) who would willingly sign up to be turned into eggs and made dormant for the duration of a trip to Mars or somewhere farther away, if that actually got them even a small chance of being reborn on another planet. And plenty who would be willing to be the "mothers" to the colony if it let them get humanity to the stars.


I read a story about that once. A creature who could fly through space, carrying life forms from one planet to the next, inside its belly in egg form, protected from radiation What I like about that idea is that when you arrived at your new planet you'd be born into a form compatible with the destination planet's environment. Seems impossible to me right now, but then the highest I've ever flown is about 7700 feet and that was a lot of work to get to that altitude!

It does give me another idea that ties in with your earlier point. If Rob was able to make the leap from Cerys' body to mine, he did so in the form of information. The premise of the movie Species made that point, didn't it? Fastest way way to get your civilization across large distances is to send data, the only thing that can travel at the speed of light. If I can serialize a human consciousness into DNA, could I encode it like we do a (arguably gigantic) GRDL file and beam it across the galaxy, where hopefully a cooperative being would decode and reconstitute it?

Would you just wake up someday on a distant planet with your current memories and no memory at all of the trip? What if multiple civilizations pick up the signal? Hmmm... interesting to think about, even if I don't have the answers! Thanks for that!

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Re: Greetings from Jessica's vagina! AMA!

Postby Groblek » Sat May 13, 2017 6:49 pm

dreamweevil wrote:I'm hoping to do more than keep in touch... we're planning to return to these places later to see how things are working out. I'll tell you this: Pamela's undergoing something I don't think I'd have the courage to try myself. It's not the body plan, but how you get get there from here. The validation makes you walk through that entire construction plan in your head, and tries to prevent you from killing yourself, but it doesn't guarantee that the transition is pleasant.

Pamela walked me through her transition while we were together. She has to sprout two legs, which initially will be above her present hips, connected to a new skeletal member just above her current pelvis. She'll develop a very awkward bend to her spine. Her current human legs become her hind legs; her rear end will gain fur and a tail; and as she starts to gain weight she'll lose the ability to walk until she can get all four legs on the ground-- two front hooves and two rear feet, then finally she'll trade those back feet for hooves. She'll look like a weirdly-proportioned, way-too-short centaur at that point, with her front and rear legs too close together. Then she'll grow, and as she does her body will stretch out start to take on a normal shape. Normal for a centaur, that is.


I hadn't really thought about what it would take to make that kind of a transition outside of a womb or similar environment. I'm impressed at just how committed Pamela is to her vision. I definitely look forward to hearing how it all turns out.

dreamweevil wrote:I agree. Many of my colleagues here have been writing about that. At the core is the so-called "transporter paradox", which seems to be unsolvable. Do I have a copy of Rob McLeane that just thinks he's Rob, or did the original wake up inside me at the moment his miserable "girlfriend" finished him off? Does it matter?

Some researchers are starting to think that there might be actual quantum entanglement involved, but as you can imagine there's not a lot of research money available.


Well, regardless of whatever the mechanism turns out to be, we're clearly going to have to rethink a lot of things about human consciousness, that's for sure. I'll be intrigued to see what else comes from you all experimenting with this.

Also, to Amy, thank you for the answer. That's fascinating, and I'll admit a little scary to contemplate. Not too much of the latter though, since the two of them (you? We're going to need new language for some of this) were clearly excited to join that way, and you seem very happy with the result. If you ever feel comfortable writing it down, I'd love to hear what it was like, at least inasmuch as it is possible to put words to something like that.

I read a story about that once. A creature who could fly through space, carrying life forms from one planet to the next, inside its belly in egg form, protected from radiation What I like about that idea is that when you arrived at your new planet you'd be born into a form compatible with the destination planet's environment. Seems impossible to me right now, but then the highest I've ever flown is about 7700 feet and that was a lot of work to get to that altitude!

It does give me another idea that ties in with your earlier point. If Rob was able to make the leap from Cerys' body to mine, he did so in the form of information. The premise of the movie Species made that point, didn't it? Fastest way way to get your civilization across large distances is to send data, the only thing that can travel at the speed of light. If I can serialize a human consciousness into DNA, could I encode it like we do a (arguably gigantic) GRDL file and beam it across the galaxy, where hopefully a cooperative being would decode and reconstitute it?

Would you just wake up someday on a distant planet with your current memories and no memory at all of the trip? What if multiple civilizations pick up the signal? Hmmm... interesting to think about, even if I don't have the answers! Thanks for that!


I'd just been thinking in terms of how much easier it would be to build a ship with life support for a small crew who carried a much larger group tucked within them. I hadn't even thought about someone actually becoming the ship, though I really should have. There's enough Science Fiction that discusses living ships of some variety, after all. The bioengineering on engines for an interstellar ship seems daunting currently, but someone determined could probably pull off a transformation into some sort of creature that can fly wintin thhe solar system using the solar wind from the sun. I can't imagine what they'd have to put themselves through - if Pamela's transformation seems drastic, this would be orders of magnitude more so, and would almost certainly have to happen in orbit somehow. But I wouldn't be at all surprised if your future includes people trying something like that, assuming your new body plan passes this beta test well. Mythological creatures covering the earth, and fantastic new ones traveling space itself? That truly is an amazing vision of a future. Not utopian, but definitely inspirational.
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Re: Greetings from Jessica's vagina! AMA!

Postby dreamweevil » Sun May 14, 2017 7:55 am

Groblek wrote:Well, regardless of whatever the mechanism turns out to be, we're clearly going to have to rethink a lot of things about human consciousness, that's for sure. I'll be intrigued to see what else comes from you all experimenting with this.

Also, to Amy, thank you for the answer. That's fascinating, and I'll admit a little scary to contemplate. Not too much of the latter though, since the two of them (you? We're going to need new language for some of this) were clearly excited to join that way, and you seem very happy with the result. If you ever feel comfortable writing it down, I'd love to hear what it was like, at least inasmuch as it is possible to put words to something like that.


Amy: I don't know if it's possible to put into words, to do it justice, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't try.

It all starts with that desperate longing of which, I like to believe, all humans are capable. I can't bear to be apart from you, not even for a moment. The sense of willing self-sacrifice. I'll do anything for you; I'll vanish into your body and disappear forever if it's what you want.. When those feelings are mutual, when you just want to crawl into each other's skin and live there forever.

Until that moment, deep inside Alicia's uterus, I felt like I was torn in half. So close to that nirvana and still-- desperate, even, to claw my way into a single body, to give up this existence of having four hands and feet and two heads and two completely physically separate bodies. I couldn't think of anything else but to become one.

In short, we were perfectly right for each other, perfectly aligned, ready.

We'd already been able to complete each others sentences, think each other's thoughts. We just had to let our physical bodies dissolve, and even that was fun. Until then the closest we'd ever been able to get was entangled during sex, now the barrier of skin and body were fading away. We could start to flow into each other as we waited for Alicia's egg to arrive. We could churn and mix inside Alicia's body, inside this safe, warm space she'd offered us. I imagined us lining up our parts, fusing them together one-by-one, watching as we became indistinguishable, inseparable. I could feel our thoughts synchronize, the two slightly-different rhythms of consciousness coalesce; become unified, stronger. I had both histories: Amy's and Jessica's, and now we'd work together to form an entirely new person out of the best of the both of us.

Then Alicia's egg arrived, and started the conversion from who we were to who I am. When I was born there was no "Amy", no "Jessica", just me. Exactly what I wanted.

Now, when I look back, I don't see two women that joined: I see one, myself, cruelly split by nature until the wonder that are these new abilities let us rejoin into the woman I should have been all along. Yes, I remember two histories. But I'm glad those days are over, that I don't feel that longing looking into my own eyes and asking: "Why am I two different people?"

I'd just been thinking in terms of how much easier it would be to build a ship with life support for a small crew who carried a much larger group tucked within them. I hadn't even thought about someone actually becoming the ship, though I really should have. There's enough Science Fiction that discusses living ships of some variety, after all. The bioengineering on engines for an interstellar ship seems daunting currently, but someone determined could probably pull off a transformation into some sort of creature that can fly wintin thhe solar system using the solar wind from the sun. I can't imagine what they'd have to put themselves through - if Pamela's transformation seems drastic, this would be orders of magnitude more so, and would almost certainly have to happen in orbit somehow. But I wouldn't be at all surprised if your future includes people trying something like that, assuming your new body plan passes this beta test well. Mythological creatures covering the earth, and fantastic new ones traveling space itself? That truly is an amazing vision of a future. Not utopian, but definitely inspirational.


Amy: I think I can generalize this a bit. The magic isn't so much space travel as it is time travel. I can pull someone into my body, reduce their entire being to a single egg, and store them within an ovary, sending them into complete dormancy; completely unaware of the outside world or the passage of time.

I could do this hundreds of times. Theoretically, Each of my ovaries could store hundreds of souls that way, each different, each unique.

At some later time and place, I could then, one at a time, bring these people back to life. They emerge from my body and decades may have passed, like they were in cryosleep or something. A small crew, like you said, could ferry many hundreds, even thousands, and so long as there were sufficient resources at the far end to build new human (or other!) bodies, you could establish a big colony in a remote location very quickly.

Could this be nested? I don't know. If I took on hundreds of passengers this way and then was, myself, reduced to a single egg within some other woman's body, would the hundreds I carry remain intact, such that our one ship could carry tens of thousands, even millions? Or would we cross some threshold of information density such that the uniqueness and memories of my future "offspring" would be muddied or lost?

I don't think anyone's tested it. I don't think I would want to try it. This is the great unspoken fear of unbirth, by the way: that something happens to your host while you're inside and incapacitated. Particularly something you'd have prevented if you'd been outside, on your own. No! Don't touch that! Scale that up and, pardon the pun, but you're really putting all your eggs in one basket, no?

But there's another point you brought up earlier, where we mentioned the "transporter paradox". I take a volunteer into my body and transform them, give them a new body, and give birth to them.

Or so you think. You have to take my word for it that the person emerging from my body is the person who went in, don't you? And not just a "child" of my own who I've carefully trained to fool you into thinking that she's unchanged, mentally, from the one you knew before?

Would the mother giving birth on a distant world be tempted to alter her passengers, just a little, to her own wishes, just like she alters their biology to perpetuate her own genes? Perhaps. Something to think about in any case.
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Re: Greetings from Jessica's vagina! AMA!

Postby Groblek » Sun May 14, 2017 10:13 am

Thanks again, Amy! It sounds to me like Amy and Jessica were soul-mates in the truest sense of the word, whether you started that way or grew together into that over the years. Either way, I'm glad you were able to complete each other/yourself this way.

dreamweevil wrote:
I could do this hundreds of times. Theoretically, Each of my ovaries could store hundreds of souls that way, each different, each unique.


If you're working with an ovarian capacity comparable to unmodified humans, you're off by a few orders of magnitude - theoretically, that should be hundreds of thousands. Current estimates put a woman's eggs at birth at one to two million. Accumulating that would be a long process, unless someone tweaked their body plan into something that could unbirth litters.

I can see why no one would be likely to test that nesting approach, though I imagine even that will happen eventually - likely eiher through accident, or worse someone being malicious. As I've said before here, I don't think you've managed to eliminate the bad parts of human nature. Though I do see conflicts becoming less actually fatal most of the time, since there are strong advantages to not eliminating a person and their accumulated knowledge.

That leads to the fascinating idea of someone or a group of people devoting themselves to archiving and preserving human knowledge, with their own body as the archive/library, and accepting volunteers (or even less-willing people) as donations to the archive. Especially if there do end up being any large-scale conflicts among groups of people. It's a more humane, though still disturbing, alternative to the genocide that has historically occurred when cultural groups clash violently.

But there's another point you brought up earlier, where we mentioned the "transporter paradox". I take a volunteer into my body and transform them, give them a new body, and give birth to them.

Or so you think. You have to take my word for it that the person emerging from my body is the person who went in, don't you? And not just a "child" of my own who I've carefully trained to fool you into thinking that she's unchanged, mentally, from the one you knew before?

Would the mother giving birth on a distant world be tempted to alter her passengers, just a little, to her own wishes, just like she alters their biology to perpetuate her own genes? Perhaps. Something to think about in any case.


That is a definite worry, though not one I expect would stop the truly space-mad folks I know. I'm realist enough to be sure that if it ever happens, many of those carrying the colonists will be honest, but some of those mothers *will* tweak their passengers, to a greater or lesser degree. And my impression of your accounts here is that if she's careful, they may not even realize anything had been done to them. But that too is a reality of the genie you've all let out of the bottle with this particular biological revolution of yours.
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Re: Greetings from Jessica's vagina! AMA!

Postby dreamweevil » Sun May 14, 2017 7:46 pm

Groblek wrote:Thanks again, Amy! It sounds to me like Amy and Jessica were soul-mates in the truest sense of the word, whether you started that way or grew together into that over the years. Either way, I'm glad you were able to complete each other/yourself this way.

dreamweevil wrote:
I could do this hundreds of times. Theoretically, Each of my ovaries could store hundreds of souls that way, each different, each unique.


If you're working with an ovarian capacity comparable to unmodified humans, you're off by a few orders of magnitude - theoretically, that should be hundreds of thousands. Current estimates put a woman's eggs at birth at one to two million. Accumulating that would be a long process, unless someone tweaked their body plan into something that could unbirth litters.


Amy: That's at birth, in humans. While a baby girl carries over a million eggs, through absorption that number lessons by the time she reaches puberty. The average woman will produce around four hundred eggs during her reproductive years. My ovaries are different; while they have some storage capacity, they also have gene sequencing machinery (and the required neural interconnect). Even though my ovaries are nominally larger than a human's, my eggs are larger too: they're stlll very tiny, but larger than the average human egg cell.

It would take decades to completely absorb even a hundred humans, at least with the equipment I've got now, and equally long to process enough food to re-grow them all, one at a time. I think if I was going to get into that business I'd build myself a specially designed body just for it.

I can see why no one would be likely to test that nesting approach, though I imagine even that will happen eventually - likely eiher through accident, or worse someone being malicious. As I've said before here, I don't think you've managed to eliminate the bad parts of human nature. Though I do see conflicts becoming less actually fatal most of the time, since there are strong advantages to not eliminating a person and their accumulated knowledge.

That leads to the fascinating idea of someone or a group of people devoting themselves to archiving and preserving human knowledge, with their own body as the archive/library, and accepting volunteers (or even less-willing people) as donations to the archive. Especially if there do end up being any large-scale conflicts among groups of people. It's a more humane, though still disturbing, alternative to the genocide that has historically occurred when cultural groups clash violently.


We agree there. I could see that happening: volunteers, perhaps some of the last remaining "normal" humans, might choose to be preserved that way. They'd be trading a chance that their host dies (always the largest risk for anyone in that situation) for an chance to see the "future", to perhaps become a bit of living history, of the way things used to be. I'll bring it up to some of the women I work with: we might want to make that a formal initiative, kind an ovarian "seed bank", if you will. Thanks for that!

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30: Finishing the first lap

Postby dreamweevil » Sun May 14, 2017 8:05 pm

Daisy: Brad is, indeed, exhausted, just as Pamela Larkin had predicted. To me, one hundred and twenty miles felt easy, as though I'd learned how to work with the wind instead of fight against it. But Brad barely made it. He was thankful that the hotel let us into our room early, happy to collapse immediately on the bed.

I was not about to let him off the hook like that, nor was Stacy. We both wanted into his thoughts before he fell asleep. So I pounced atop him, eliciting only a mild groan, felt Stacy on top/next to me. Rather than bother with the sheets and blankets, Stacy simply unfolded her wings partway, plunging all of us into a comfortable darkness and then we set about making the necessary physical connections so we'd be bound together before we slept.

I dove into Brad's thoughts right away. The two women he slept with, Eleanor and Nancy, were partners also? I suppose they'd have to be, for one to pretty much invite herself into the three-way with the other. The two women teamed up on him pretty much right away, which meant for an amazing yet very active night; they didn't really let him sleep more than ninety minutes or so. Both of them got "stung" twice, almost like some kind of insurance to make sure the new programming took. No wonder the guy's exhausted.

I note that I'm thinking of him as a "guy". It really is how he thinks of himself, even though "he" has the same parts that I do and not a single "Y" chromosome to be found anywhere. It meant that he found himself at the mercy of two women, like he actually is right now, instead of being one of them.

I used to always think that guys liked to be in charge. Was that never really true? Was that typical male bravado always just an act until some woman could snap the fur-lined handcuffs into place?

Yet... I'm happy with who he is. I'd really like to let him take charge of both Stacy and I at some point, put me in "my place", feel that strength and macho directed at me and do absolutely nothing to stop it. I think I'd also like to teach him how to be a girl someday.

When connected like this, the thoughts become jumbled as we fall asleep. I realize that it's dangerous for the other guy in my life: Rob. I have to keep him in my thoughts, pure and distinct, because the moment I stop thinking about him is the moment he ceases to exist. I try to keep my falling-asleep thoughts organized as best I can, reduced just to bullet points if I have to, for conscious processing later on. I experienced the sex with Eleanor and Nancy, and we both did with Naomi, the delightful woman that Stacy bedded four miles away, but my thoughts kept returning to Brad as a person.

I saw myself through his eyes. My chin and neck, specifically, kissing him upside-down, his tiny head in the bottom of the canyon formed by then-very-human Stacy's thighs. Surrounded by women who defined his world for him. With his legs, arms, and torso already folded up within Stacy's warm body, and me separating his head from the outside world as he sacrificed himself to us, he succumbed to our overwhelming and unnatural feminine power. He vanished as Stacy and I closed the gap between us, and now we've made him into what we wanted him to become.

I'm interested in becoming what he wants me to be. I would merge myself with either of them, vanish into both of them or perhaps combine ourselves into a single person someday with no regrets at all. That is love.

Am I doing all this for the wrong reasons? This was the train of thought as we woke, many hours later, having missed both lunch and dinner. We have something that people clearly want: the ability to become anything at all, and for the moment we're keeping it to ourselves and doling it out very slowly in return for sex. Yes, we have some rationalization: imposing this on the world slowly is "safer" than just throwing the entire GRDL file up on the web for the entire world to absorb overnight. But do I really need to have sex, no matter how safe it is, with as many other people as we're planning to? Will the spread rate really make much of a difference, in the long run? In a few days, Eleanor, Nancy, and Naomi will be able to spread 6.0 to other women around them. (Pamela Larkin isn't planning to: she's starting her centaur transformation at the first possible opportunity.) Eleanor has a trip to Europe later this week to get things started over there.

I like the connection, the feeling of community. Larkin Farms has what I know understand as a pretty clear hierarchy. Not only are all the women there "connected" to each other, but they're connected in a defined way, with Pamela herself at the top, like a corporate org chart, sort of.

I have the knowledge of my ancestors. I know what's going on in Brad's head, in Stacy's, and now in Pamela's. But there's a horizon to it; a sense of overwhelm that arises if I try to cram too many different people's thoughts into my own limited brain. Through Brad I could explore what Eleanor and Nancy know, for example, and their partners, and so on-- but I can't. It's too much. The further out I might go, the more I only get the surface; I don't want more than that. Women philosophers have written of this since shortly after the entire movement began. Despite all our connectedness, It's the horizon that keeps us unique.

The horizon protected Rob McLeane. Nothing of him escaped me during my encounter with Pamela, so none of the Larkin Farms contigent will be aware of him, or what my sister and his girlfriend did to him.

By the time we called room service, the grill had shut down, but they still had deli sandwiches, which was fine for the time being. Despite a big breakfast we were all starving: flying burns a lot of calories and we'd yet to really recharge ourselves.

Next: Cleaning up. In this body, showers are completely pointless, except for the hair on my head. Feathers just shed water, and a hard spray just messes my feathers up. A longer soak in a tub works much better. This took two complete baths for each of us: the tub is small, and I was surprised the first time to see how dirty the water got, how much dust and dirt I'd picked up just from the air. I drained and rinsed the tub, filled it again, and got back in since I couldn't get my entire body clean at once. You kind of shake off after that, since towels aren't very helpful, and then spend a couple of hours with my 3D-printed preening tool to get each feather smooth and flat and shiny once again.

Then: some email, some blog updates like this one, and back to sleep until morning.

. . .

A demure woman named Tina is now my fairy princess. Or, at least, that's what's she's going to be. She loves the idea of flying like I do, but in her head she's already ditched the large, maintenance-heavy wings of my current design for much smaller iridescent, transparent wings of her own, and a weight around one twentieth my own despite being approximately the same size. Think "Tinkerbell", only larger. That's it.

This means she'll be exquisitely delicate, just like she wants to be. She'd be literally blown away by a stiff wind, and will have nowhere near the speed that Stacy, Brad, or I do. But it's what she wants, and that's the entire point of this exercise. She'll be a huge hit for little girls' birthday parties.

The ones that worry me the most are the ones who don't have a clear vision for what they want... yet. Most of the "dates" we have on our calendar fall into that category. These women want to spread the message, the genetics, to other women; not go through a difficult, agonizing transformation of their own... at least now. They understand the need for some caution in these early stages. Even so I realize that I'm uncorking a demon here, trading one hazard for another. Before, that misbehaving boyfriend could find himself trapped between his girlfriend's legs, transformed into a girl... or nothing at all. Now, if a woman gets angry or vindictive, she's going to have a lot more options at her disposal. Even Alicia, bristling with her still-untested (as far as I know) biological weapons, will have to watch her step (which, also to be fair, was kind of the point of all this). But so will Stacy, Brad and I.

We realized early on in the planning stage, before Stacy or Brad flapped their wings the first time, that to insist on knowing what a woman wanted to do with her body, prior to granting her the ability to change that body, would deprive her of the very freedom we were offering. To deliver the "sting" I am necessarily inside each woman's thoughts, so there's no real opportunity for deception ("I'm going to tell Daisy that I'd like to be a fairy princess, but I actually am going to turn myself into a fearsome sea serpent.")

I appreciate the women who don't know what they want... other than to help spread my genetic code and to wait for inspiration... but it also worries me. I think this is why I wanted to go slowly-- to have a human touch at the beginning. But as we know, it's only a matter of time.

Speaking of time: It's about that point where I feel like I should adjust our time offset again. Looking at our calendar, I see a bunch more encounters of the kind you've already read, and though I hope you enjoy hearing of my sex life I worry at this point that you're mostly saying "Enough! We get it! Daisy and her friends have mind-blowing sex with hundreds of women all over the countryside without regard the destruction they're about to leave in their wake!" I'm not trying to make you jealous. Well, maybe a little bit. You'd rather hear of what becomes of these other women.

For you, it's just an instant...

. . .

There. Okay. You didn't miss anything. Okay, quick updates. This has gone exactly like we all thought it would. We had a few weather delays, each of which were actually welcome, and were padded into our rough schedule. One time we took a three-hour bus ride to the next city just because the wind was uncooperative, but it was no big deal. In Omaha, Nebraska, we actually arrived in town on the same day as Amy was scheduled to give a lecture. She's traveling with another woman now that she didn't tell me about; I think they've got something going between them: I offered to loan her either Brad or Stacy so she could pick up the 6.0 genetics but she wasn't interested "right now". It was very nice to see her.

We've got, behind us, our centaur, fairy, three completely different kinds of "elves" (they generally seem to be going for tall, skinny, and remarkably exotic), more flying humans like us (Belle was correct: it's the most popular form so far), though none of them have caught up to Brad, Stacy, or I. A whole bunch of "I'm not sure but I want my friends to have this."

Nobody's taken up my mermaid fantasy yet. I think everyone is scared of it; even the few women who've dreamed of it. The idea of diving to tremendous depths, of being able to breathe underwater, to see creatures that most of us never get to... our oceans here seem too polluted for anyone to want that, too filled with extremely hazardous natural life forms and no tribal wisdom yet on how to avoid those hazards, like sharks.

But several other hybrids are in the works. We've got a sphinx under development, one griffin, an amorphous blob that can reshape herself into anything (yes, really, and I can't wait to see how that turns out, and two lamias... nagas... okay, whatever you want to call them: snake-girls.

I've made only some mild changes to my form: I'd gone overboard on the weight paranoia, and found that by making my wings just a little longer and changing the feather arrangement a bit I could carry more weight and be stronger and therefore faster, a little less delicate than before, could climb a bit higher more easily. (Stacy made the same adjustments so we'd keep the same flight speed; Brad didn't need to do much.)

The world is falling apart behind us just as we thought it would.

And, at long last, we're almost home.

"Thank goodness", Belle told me as soon as I told her so. "Clarisse is driving me crazy. You need to give her this 6.0 as soon as you get here, just to shut her up about it."

"Still wants to be a dragon?"

"Why in the world would Clarisse ever change her mind about anything?" came Belle's snarky reply.

I felt a sense of dread as I started to notice familiar landmarks from 7,000 feet. I knew Brad and Stacy felt it too. Even though we had plans: a second "lap", as it were, to go visit the creatures we'd spawned, see how most of them are doing.

We didn't want to be apart for an instant. That was one thing we changed early on: rather than split up to do our thing in different bedrooms, we'd started insisting on staying together even on our scheduled "dates", even while having sex. I think we had it in our heads that we'd need to split up on arrival, each go and visit their own families; but we didn't have to, and we didn't. We've visit all of our families together, the three of us, and that made things feel much better.

The sad part of it, then, was that our plan-- our voyage, and any knowledge of what tomorrow held, was at an end.

We visited all three families in order: my own, last. Alicia and her cohorts were away, a "tour" of her own in her official capacities. To shut Clarisse up at last, we brought both her and Belle down to the playroom, and I watched with a smile as Brad and Stacy infected both Belle and Clarisse simultaneously in a big pile of feathers. I could feel it now, knew every little move, every twitch; didn't even have to be connected to sense that sting happening with such clarity that I might as well have done it myself.

As soon as it was over, I went up to my bedroom, plugged my tablet in, unlocked the files for the 6.0 plan and officially submitted it. Brad and Stacy stood at my shoulders as I pressed the button. Now we have no secrets at all. Nothing left to offer the world. Nothing that anyone will want from me.

Now what?

I want to spend a month, at least, right here. With my two best friends and partners in the whole world. I'm tired of interacting with it, with people, with anyone else except Brad and Stacy and perhaps my family. I've done enough. I just want to sit back and watch for a while. I think I've earned that. Of course, I've got things to deal with first.

. . .

I have to stop looking at the comments. Never look at the comments. The 6.0 plan hasn't even been "officially approved" yet, as if that matters, and way too many of the comments aren't kind. I guess that was too much to expect. Around our world, new creatures are appearing, not all of them harmless, and a vocal minority blames me for it.

I don't answer the comments. I want to shout, Don't you get it? It's not supposed to be completely safe and harmless. It never was. Yet... in a way, it is. The worst that most of these women will do to you, if you somehow offend you, is unbirth you, turn you into one of them. And with 6.0 you can, eventually, change yourself back. Right now there are so many people waiting to be transformed this way that you practically have to make an appointment; so there's very little risk that something's going to attack you out of the blue.

I checked in on Pamela Larkin's progress down at Larkin Farms and she's the perfect example of this. She's starting to look like a centaur at last, but nowhere near being able to transform anyone else. The women that work for her have a queue, already know who's going to be the first to dive under that tail and between those dark, tight nether lips. It's a heck of a lot easier to be transformed into the creature of your dreams in the safety of a uterus than it is out in the open air with gravity and having to keep yourself alive!

Rob has been intrigued by the imagination of one woman we encountered about halfway through our tour. One of the few, in that segment of the trip, that had a very clear idea of exactly what she wanted to become and what she wanted to do, and apparently she has a queue of her own already.

Her name is Zoe, and she's a snake-woman. Compared to the centaur, Zoe's transformation plan was remarkably easy: her legs would fuse together to form her tail, she'd gain the scales that would help her glide through her preferred territory out west, and then she'd grow. A few weeks of inconvenience at most, compared to many months for a centaur. The more she grows, the longer her tail will get, the faster she'll be able to move, and, in a unique touch, the more people she'll be able to transform at once; her combination digestive/reproductive system is the only one so far that can act, literally, like a pipeline, a literal conduit from a human existence at one end to snake-woman existence at the other.

I think I'm intrigued by it for the same reason Rob is. Sleek, sexy, and just dangerous enough.

So we've decided to check it out-- just Rob and I. Stacy and Brad want some time to visit their parents, unload all the stories they've accumulated, rest up.

It took forever to get in touch with Zoe. She's got one phone in the entire place, it's an old landline to a barn on her property (I guess barns are going to become popular now?). Nobody ever seems to answer it. I let it ring for probably ten minutes, and then couldn't hear what was going on and it took another eight minutes of nothing but weird background noises before I got Zoe on the phone. She lives, mostly, outdoors now, her body adapted for the weather, out in the grasslands exploring, enjoying life, breeding. I explained my situation, Rob's existence, his interest. She said she'd think about it and we could meet in person.

It's a long flight. Very long. Over six hundred eighty miles. I'm not sure about being on my own that long. Okay, not on my own. Rob is here, with me, and at long last we'll get to spend some time together just thinking about things. It's becoming clear to me that he's ready to gain his own body once again, strike out on his own for a while, get away from my crazy sister and remove any chance of running into his ex-girlfriend. This seems like the perfect opportunity: not only is Rob interested in this creature above others, but a naga can give birth to an "adult" version of itself-- none of those cranial size limitations of the human pelvic outlet, so Rob will emerge from under a snake-woman's tail with all of his memories intact.

If I can convince any of them to take him on, that is.

I see "birds" like myself everywhere now. So many different colors, going every which direction. So much better than a car, than any smelly conveyance humans ever invented. So simple, so wonderfully direct. No signs to tell you what to do; no red lights.

You can tell the flight plans of my fellow travellers by their altitude: I'm way up high today because I'm going so far. Most others, then, are well below. Most carry a transponder, like the app I've got running on my tablet, to alert small airplanes of our presence, and provide feedback to keep us out of flight paths. But that's about the only accommodation we've ever needed.

"So," I ask Rob, "Are you ready for this? Ready to become a woman? A snake-woman?"

We go over what that's going to mean for him. That he's going to be a real, living being for the first time since Alicia snatched him out of his apartment. He will be able to go where he wants, when he wants. He's going to have all the powers of a woman, a snake-woman. She will need a new name, a new personality, new everything. She'll be hungry. She'll feel a desire to consume the ones that come to her; to turn them into her own "children" when she feels like it. She'll be a member of a growing, slithering writhing community of her own, have a family of her own, interests to share, the same future to create.

Rob: Daisy laid it all out for me. I was ready. Definitely ready. It had seemed like an age ago that another woman from the same family had offered me a choice like that -- and it had gone really, really badly. But this was different. All the difference in the world. Because, this time, I did have a choice. A genuine one, not just some Morton's Fork a powerful person was holding over me. Now, I had the choice to rejoin the world on my own terms, and with my own body, beholden to no one.

And I was ready to make that choice. To become a lamia, a snakewoman. With all that entailed.

Daisy: I'm getting excited about this! However, I decided at about four hundred miles that I couldn't make it the entire way. I got the tablet out and booked a room for myself; it was about forty more miles away, but on my flight path and mostly gliding.

Wow, was I ever hungry. I don't think I've eaten so much in quite a while: I sat in this big motel restaurant, dark wooden paneling an a rustic motif complete with wagon-wheel chandeliers, virtually by myself while the few other customers stared at me and I didn't care. I had this huge, lumberjack-worthy meal all to myself.

It was about two-thirty the next afternoon when I finally got to where I was going. This isn't where I'd met Zoe: our "date" was up the street, at an apartment she's since sold: human dwellings aren't really suitable for any of these "creatures", are they?

Zoe had given me the meeting place; the edge of a seemingly infinity grassy field. The kind of place where you'd find snakes-- the regular kind, and now their much larger, much more intelligent cousins. There was a barn nearby where I think they sleep at night, at least in bad weather. I knew I might not find her right away.

In a year or two this will likely be a dangerous place. Right now to be captured and "eaten" by a snake-woman you'd need an appointment; I have no idea how many Zoe has transformed already. Once the volunteers run out, which will happen eventually, anyone walking into this field is much more likely to find themselves in the coils of one of Zoe's brood whether they like it or not. I have half a mind to just fly in circles over the field looking for them, but instead I choose to wait exactly as Zoe asked.

Finally, after about forty minutes, movement. A head pops up: a girl's. It's one of them, but not Zoe. She disappears back into the grass. It's five more minutes before Zoe appears. She pops up out of the tall grass, and is able to lift herself up so her head is a good four feet above mine, towering up on her snake-tail before gliding closer.

"Daisy! Sorry for the delay. Didn't know exactly when you'd get here."

"Neither did I."

"Yeah. I don't carry a phone, you know. Don't need one; no pockets."

Zoe sidled closer, put her arms out, slid herself down to normal standing height. Tentatively, I accepted a hug. Tentatively because I'm extraordinarily aware that nagas hide substantial venom glands in their bosoms. But nothing happened.

"You look absolutely great," I told her.

She had me follow her, through the track she made in the grass, to a sitting area she'd flattened out. Several of her kind came up and joined us.

There, I told her the rest of the story about Rob, finally kissing her to share the story more clearly. The immediate sense I got: this is an awful lot for me to ask. For Zoe, or any of her species-mates, to "raise" Rob McLeane from an egg would mean they'd need both time, and a lot more food than it takes just to transform an adult human. But on that count I'd come prepared. One privilege of being Amy's daughter is that financial matters weren't a big deal. I told her that I'd supply her, and her troupe, with food deliveries for the next year. They had built a kitchen in their barn, and I found a grocery service that would restock their kitchen twice a week as my gift to them.

"Wow. That's really generous," Zoe said.

It wasn't really. The entire thing cost less than one of Alicia's cross-country jaunts, or a couple hours of Amy's time.

"I want you to have this no matter what you decide," I explained. I told her about Pamela Larkin, the way that she could have her fantasy only because she was rich.

"It won't be me," Zoe said. "I think Laurie will do it." Zoe curled up on her own tail. "I'm pretty 'booked up', reproductively, for a while, I'm afraid. But I need to check with her first. Would you spend the night with us? I suspect she'd want to get to know Rob personally, you could do that if you and Laurie..."

"Sure," I said. "It'd be my pleasure. How about I go grab something to eat--"

"Oh, I'm sure we can whip you up something..."

"No, really, it's no bother." I knew that Zoe and her friends had dinner at... well, dinnertime, and it was way early. "Why don't we meet back where I first landed in... a couple of hours?"

"Sure. There's a restaurant about half a mile down the road that way--" she pointed. I reached under my wing for my tablet, showed Zoe who nodded, and we hugged and went our separate ways.

Rob, I think this is going to work out. We'll spend the night with Laurie and you can get to know her, and we'll have our decision by morning. If you don't mind sleeping in a barn. This barn wasn't bad, but it was no Larkin Farms. It was going to be interesting being a single feathered creature entangled in all those heavy snake-coils.

That works for me, Daisy. And...thank you again. Thank you for everything.

You deserve this, and a whole lot more, Rob. I... I like having you here. I know I've been keeping you isolated, and I know you understand why... but it's going to be hard for me to lose you, to feel you go, tomorrow morning. I think I'll be making this trip quite a bit, to come visit you. I'll ask Laurie if I can be here when you're born.

You think that Laurie will go for it?

I'm sure of it. Zoe will convince her, and with their food worries resolved... Come on-- let's get something to eat. You can even pick from the menu.
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Re: Greetings from Jessica's vagina! AMA!

Postby Groblek » Mon May 15, 2017 2:56 pm

Rob, good on you for deciding to take this chance to have agency in the world again, and Daisy, I'm glad you're giving him that opportunity. I've got my fingers crossed that Laurie will be willing to provide the help needed for this. Good luck in your new life!

Zoe's snake-woman form is an interesting vision, and the idea of a reproductive system that's a continuous tube is a really novel twist. I'd certainly never considered such, and I've thought about an awful lot of variations over the years. But then, I've never had the opportunity to consider it anything other than a thought experiment.

Rob - if it doesn't come up in Daisy's next post, I'd be interested to hear just what it is about this form that makes you want to join them, rather than some other variant which can birth a child with a fully-developed human brain. I'm not at all sure what I'd choose, were I in your situation, but probably not this one.
(I should probably give that a bit of thought over the next few years, since if Daisy's right, this will be my future eventually, assuming I live long enough to get there.)
Cheers,
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31: Out of the Blue

Postby dreamweevil » Tue May 16, 2017 7:26 pm

I looked at my tablet as I headed down the road the way Laurie had sent me. The restaurant page came up, and, hate to say it, it was a dump; too many bad reviews recently for my taste at the time. I zoomed out, and found a decent-looking deli, not too fancy for a girl in feathers, that was open all day. It was about a mile and for a moment I thought I'd fly it, but it was a nice afternoon out, and seeing the countryside from the ground gives a different perspective. So I walked.

Nobody was outside. I heard lawnmowers running nearby, which made sense, but most of the lawns on the road I was walking seemed like they hadn't been mowed in a while. Interesting to look up and see creatures like me way up in the sky; it's rare now not to see one or two if there's enough of the sky visible.

I glided down one hill to save a few minutes and continued walking after that. The buzzing sound grew louder, and I realized it was off to my right and above me. It went quiet. A shadow fell across me. And three creatures dropped out of the sky, surrounding me.

Translucent wings, like Tina the fairy princess, but--

"Hello there," the one in front of me said. "What brings you out this way?"

Standing on human feet, in dark boots not unlike my much lighter-colored variant, these women looked human but had the bodies of bees. Or wasps. Or... something inbetween, I couldn't tell, and at that moment didn't care because one buzzed her wings and the sound, this close, sent shivers up my spine.

"H-- hi," I said. "I'm Daisy. I was just on my way up to the River Mill Deli--"

"Walking?" one of the women said. "Why?"

"Just a change of pace, that's all, didn't mean any--"

One of the three grabbed me, but another stopped her.

"You said Daisy?"

"You don't think..."

"It is! That's her! Ladies, this here is the one and only Daisy Potemkin!"

"Pleased to meet you," I said. I still just wanted out of there. Their posture, and now that I could see, those thin, razor-sharp stingers on their rear ends didn't invite confidence.

"Daisy who?" the third bee-girl asked.

"Daisy! She invented the genetics that made us possible! How do you not know that?"

The first girl, who stood in front of me, nodded. "I'm very sorry. I'm Melissa. This is Jillian, and Bambi. Get it? Bam-bee?"

I forced a laugh.

"Her highness will want to meet this one in person, no doubt," Jillian said.

"No doubt," Melissa answered. "Okay, then, it's settled."

"I'd be happy to meet... well, any of you," I said, trying to edge my way through the largest gap the women afforded me. They closed up that space quickly, and Bambi put a hand on my shoulder. She was substantial, clearly much heavier than I, but could fly anyway? "But right now I've got a pre-existing appointment with another colony. Tomorrow afternoon will probably be fine..."

"Colony of what?" Melissa asked.

"Nagas."

"Oh, that won't do at all. They don't interest us, and Her Highness will want to see you right away." Melissa nodded to the other girls. Bambi's wings buzzed and her legs lifted from the ground.

"No, really, I can't--"

Bambi's rear end curled around, under and between Bambi's legs, while she and Jillian held me in place. I felt a sting in my right thigh as Bambi accurately guessed where my legs were under me feathers.

Bambi grabbed onto my shoulders, piggyback-style. She leaned over my shoulder and looked into my eyes. "Barely hurts, right? Not so bad?"

"Ow! Why...?"

"But this will," Bambi said. She grinned, and the other two bee girls sneered. Then Bambi held her breath as the other two urged her on. I looked down just in time to see a bulge near the end of her tail contract as she injected her poison into my leg. It burned hot, then was freezing cold, then hot again. I screamed as loud as I could and they laughed. Jillian's wings went into motion, more of that deafening godforsaken buzzing. She wrapped her arms around me to hold me up. Bambi withdrew her stinger from my leg-- it glistened wth the mix of my blood and her poison, and the pain in my leg escalated. It started going numb. I thrashed and fought as the poison crossed from my right leg to my left, as my legs buckled and collapsed out from under me, and next thing my entire weight was being supported by these monsters. Bambi actually lifted me from the ground a bit, then settled back down to await the progress of her venom through my body.

"Check her for a phone," Melissa said. "Security would have a fit if we made that mistake."

I still had some strength in my upper body, tried to hold my wings down, but that act enough telegraphed that I was indeed hiding something. Jillian found the gap in my feathers and probed under my right wing, then my left. "Yup," she said, roughly pulling the pouch that Stacy's mom had crafted for me. "Got it."

"Get her boots, Bambi." Jillian hooked her arms under mine, and started lifting me.

"Right." Bambi knelt down, holding my boots to the ground as Jillian pulled me away from the ground. My boots came off.

I tried thrashing, spreading my wings, but my muscles were failing me.

"They seem okay," Bambi reported. "Just boots, no evidence of another transmitter."

"No! Please! I don't mean you any harm!"

"Who said you do? And why would that matter?" Melissa asked. She turned her back, leapt from the ground and the three girls fell into formation with me between them.

The ground fell away as I tried to shout for help. I saw then, one glimpse of faces in a window, people who couldn't rescue me but knew better than to be outside, not here, not now, watching the spectacle as the bee-girls carried away their latest catch.

Me.

My wings, and arms, proved useless now, no more under my control than my legs. At one point I almost slipped through Jillian's arms, to my death. The buzzing sound -- the "lawnmowers" of earlier, a sound I knew I'd never mistake again -- was deafening.

A short distance and we flew over a small lake of some sort, or a reservoir. My boots suddenly tumbled from Melissa's grip, and Bambi dropped my pouch and tablet. We weren't too high up but it seemed to take ten seconds for them to hit the water, right in the center. Splash. Gone.

The bee-girls flew in s straight path for miles. I couldn't control my head to watch it: sometimes I was looking uselessly up at the sky and at Jillian's chin, but when my head flopped forward again I was watching the ground again. We left the countryside, crossed through some kind of suburb. Two men were outside in a backyard, painting something. Melissa pointed: "There."

"Should I--?" Bambi asked.

"No. This one's too precious and, trust me, you want credit for her, not two random men. But you can tell the dispatcher, they'll send other hunters out."

"Okay," Bambi said. "Thanks, Mel."

"Don't mention it," Melissa answered.

The suburbs eventually gave way to a small city. I'd not been able to keep track of the ground, had no idea where I was.

I was panicking. "I can't breathe," I said.

"Nonsense. The poison won't paralyze your lungs for a good fifteen more minutes, at least," Melissa said. "You're going to be nice and alive when you face the queen, I guarantee it. Besides, we're almost home."

Jillian laughed, and then Bambi, like she just got the joke.

The Hive, when I finally got a glimpse of it, was built upon an abandoned, perhaps thirty story office building. The windows, were there any, were very hard to see. Several floors near the ground were completely empty and open to the outside. I caught glimpse of a sign, believe it or not:

The Hive
Personal and business protection
Your eyes in the sky!

In the distance I caught sight of two other bee-girls with another captive, like me, flying inbound.

We flew down, through one of the open floors, and then up, as the only entrance to the place was through the bottom, heavily guarded. Still flying, we flew across, and up, and across again until I had no idea where I was. Finally the girls landed, dropping me in a heap on the floor.

Two larger bee-girls guarded another entrance. "What is she doing here?"

Melissa rolled me over, so I was face up, paralyzed, staring at the ceiling. But now I felt pins and needles instead of the burning sensation. I fought to wiggle a pinky, and could barely move it.

The paralysis is wearing off? I hope to heaven that's what's happening.

"This is Daisy Potemkin. The Daisy. Creator of six point zero."

One of the two guards walked closer. "That... does look like... her."

"It is her," Melissa confirmed. "We found her way down south, by the Naga's territory."

"So she's Stacy's partner?"

"Yes."

"But no Stacy?"

"No. For some reason she was on her own. I think the queen would like to see her."

One of the guards flew over, and went to stomp on my face with her boot. I didn't flinch because I couldn't, which was apparently the point. "Good enough. Go ahead."

Melissa nodded to her friends. Jillian and Bambi scooped me up from the floor, and effortlessly glided through the guarded door into a larger, and more ornately decorated, room.

Dammit, I can't see! I see a bee body easily four times the size of any other bee-girls but I can't see her face, turn me!

Bambi held me, and turned me so I could see the Queen Bee's face at last. I recognized her instantly and was shocked by the sight more than having been captured, stung, poisoned. Because, though I had not met her personally, this was the sweetest, most innocent girl any of us had encountered on our entire loop through the continent. Her name is Aeris Vernier. MY own age-- just seventeen, who on channel had expressed this wonderful wish to fly like me. How... how did she fool us? Fool Stacy? How had she become... this? What was she?"

"What... what... happened?" I asked.

"You'll find out soon enough, Daisy. I look forward to sharing my story with you, after all you've done for us."

The bee-girls are more comfortable in the air than on their feet. They frequently flit about, flying rather than walking a a few steps. Even the queen, with the massive weight she carries behind her, still seems to fly easily.

"Bambi, it seems you've earned your sisters' respect, and thus you have mine. Will you kindly do me the honor?"

"Told you," Melissa whispered.

Bambi immediately straightened herself. "Immediately. Thank you, your highness."

The queen-- Aeris-- smiled at me. "Goodbye, Daisy. Thank you for all you've done."

Bambi launched into the air. She grabbed me from behind "Goodbye, Daisy! Or should I say... hello?"

Melissa and Jillian giggled in excitement, buzzing into the air to pick out a good place to watch. The queen backed away to give Bambi room. I tried to wriggle free and could move, barely, but enough for the accursed bee-girl holding me to feel it. "She's moving!" Bambi cried, not knowing if this was normal.

"That's good," Jillian said. "I like it when they thrash. It's more fun."

"Mmmm," Bambi said. She curled her tail, like she was preparing another sting, but this time held her stinger out of the way. Her tail section was larger than I thought it was, more flexible than the shiny, yellow-and-black armoring would suggest, and she rubbed the underside of it against my still-useless legs, I could feel that she was warm. Down near her razor-sharp sting, a slit appeared; her armor plating spreading and revealing some equipment she'd been hiding. I remembered thinking, stupidly, "Ah, so that's how bee-girl workers go to the bathroom?"

But this opening was soon much larger than she'd need for that. In fact, the entire end of her tail was swelling as the slit became larger, revealing soft, pink-and-orange flesh within. An opening into that tail revealed itself, yawning open, wet and slippery and acridly sweet-smelling. The queen and the other bee-girls looked on with excitement.

Bambi changed her grip on me so we were facing each other. She had an awful, terribly satisfied grin; two black antennae on her head twitched. She drove the end of her tail over my legs, plunging me into herself well beyond my waist, and then stilled her wings, landing on the ground with a thump that drove me into her a little further still.

She was sitting on her own tail, now, riding herself like she was a horse, a combination of intense pleasure and fierce determination on her face as her innards hungrily pulled at me.

It felt at first like I wasn't going to fit. The space inside her body was too tight, too short. Perhaps she was too young? This was just practice?

I saw several of my feathers snap where they were bent the wrong way against Bambi's exterior. I squirmed. I could move, at least a little!

Bambi smiled as she felt that; she put one hand atop my head, as if to say: "You're not going anywhere." She pulled me in a bit deeper, then contracted, pushing me out again, and then in again. Her moisture started to stick to my plumage; I pleaded that my feathers would hurt her, stab their way into her soft flesh, but it didn't work that way: instead, her thick secretions stuck them down, and from what I could see they were starting to melt together. Even if I escaped there's no way I'd be able to fly out of here.

This is her first time. She's just realizing that she's completely wired for pleasure here. My body inside her feels good to her. Really good.

As she continued to push, and squeeze, and pull, her tail continued to grow. She's masturbating with me? Every so often my body would slip a little further in. One of my wings went the wrong way, exactly as I'd encouraged it to despite the paralysis, its rows of as-yet-undamaged feathers covering part of Bambi's body, the yellow and black matching hers almost perfectly. Her stinger tore through the feathers, then, slicing through them but not my skin.

Jillian started to fly towards me, but Melissa stopped her. "Let her do this."

Bambi nodded. She just leaned forward, and gathered up my wing behind myself, freeing it from her stinger, and then relaxed her opening sufficiently to push my useless wing down into herself. Then she tightened around me again. My shoulders slipped down into her; my body now lying flat inside her. I could not feel the far end of this chamber with my feet; clearly, and distressingly, it was plenty large enough.

Bambi now put both of her hands on my head, and with the look of a climaxing woman she pushed until her own arms were inside herself up to her elbows. She shrieked with pleasure. Almost instantly, as she withdrew her hands from herself, the tissues between me and the outside world began to inflate. She made more room for me deeper inside her tail as she began to close herself up.

No! Stop! Please!

She couldn't hear. Didn't care. I could see the inside of her armor plating as it closed. Then: airlessness. Loud coos from Bambi as she enjoyed, just as Jillian had foretold, the sensations of my desperate thrashing inside her. I needed desperately to breathe but I couldn't.

I felt Bambi's wings restart. And at the same time, a gland back near her now-sealed opening, near her venom glands, squirted a thin, but very dark purple liquid into the chamber where I was; it was acrid and burned like the poison she'd injected me with earlier. Bambi left the ground, her now-very-heavy tail dangling below her, the flying motion helping the already-very-active muscles in her tail knead my body, spreading this liquid over my body where it continued to melt my feathers and penetrated the skin underneath.

It's the other half of her poison.

The venom already in my bloodstream was waiting, just waiting, for the arrival of these other molecules as Bambi vigorously worked them into me. Bambi, still in a state of apparent sexual ecstacy, just had to wait and wriggle her rear end to help it along. Thus enabled, the poison did what poison was supposed to do. Desperate for air I continued to thrash as long as I could, but the poison started shutting down my internal organs. I lost the urge to breathe, thankfully. I felt it invade my reproductive system and destroy both of my ovaries. And then my heart. I actually felt my heart stop beating.

Bambi still didn't care. Her body siphoned off the parts of me that she'd already dissolved: all of my feathers, most of my wings as she reduced me to a smooth, slippery blob inside herself. She had neural connection pads-- one of the first things I looked for, if I knew I was going to be unbirthed-- but they weren't mature, gave me only a vague sense of things when Bambi herself was particularly excited about them.

Why can't I just die?

The kneading, churning action around me gradually slowed. I felt Bambi look into the queen's eyes: this must be particularly significant to her. The queen opened her arms, welcoming Bambi like she might a child returning from a day at school, with a big grin.

As Bambi flew into the queen's embrace, the queen's tail opened just as Bambi's had earlier. Gingerly, and again moving her stinger out of the way, Bambi inserted her own tail into the queen's opening, and then opened herself up. They stared into each other's eyes, then closed them, smiling together as they mated this way.

I was still trapped within my own body. I could feel Bambi preparing to deliver me: soft, pre-digested, just as her queen wanted, having only siphoned off the allowable percentage of her catch. By stopping my metabolism, she preserved as much energy as possible for her queen to use as she pleased.

The pressure inside Bambi's body grew as her tail section contracted. She began to pass me-- or what was left of me-- into the queen's body, headfirst. My wings and arms, from what I could tell, had melted away, along with all of my feathers. My skin was soft and gelatinous, insubtantial. And I could feel everything going on, and both of the bee-girls knew it. Just as my "waist" reached the queen she'd contract herself, pushing me back into Bambi, eliciting a moan of pleasure, and then Bambi would reciprocate by extruding me back into the queen. Meanwhile my body continued to dissolve, the activated poison doing its magic even though my blood no longer flowed.

I could tell that the queen's mature body was far more dangerous, far more consequential, than Bambi's younger one. I knew the queen would make a neural connection to me at some point-- free me from this dying blob of biomass they kept squirting into each other, but it wasn't happening.

Finally, Bambi's tail contracted one last time, squirting my now-gelatinous self into the queen. The two kissed, separated, and closed up.

The queen lifted her massive tail into the air. Her insides churned at me, powerful waves of peristalsis working to finish the digestion that Bambi had so courteously, obediently started. Even my bones turned to mush, then, gradually, to liquid.

Finally, a connection. The queen's neural induction pads are very deep inside this chamber-- all the way at the far end of it, in fact. They don't make contact with my tongue, my genitals-- all of those are gone. This pad makes direct contact with my brain, the last part of me to survive this process. Ingenious, if I do say so myself, though I wish I had just a hint of reassurance prior to that moment.

See, I told you you'd be safe, the queen said.

You never said that.

Hmmm... I didn't? Oh, well. But I did promise you my story, didn't I? Here, in return for everything you know, you can have it.

As she began to relay her story, I felt her begin to empty the chamber I had been trapped in. A thick, clear liquid, all that remained of me, passed from this one chamber to the next. The three bee-girls who captured me curtsied and left, Bambi smiling with the warmth of a growth hormone the queen had just dosed her with. Outside, another band of workers awaited with the next offering to the queen.
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32: The Hive

Postby dreamweevil » Sat May 20, 2017 5:36 am

...:

Okay. I invented part of this scheme. I know how to navigate it. I just have... have to...

Shh. Just relax, my little one. Here you go.

Okay, I guess I'll be a bee-girl for a while, if it makes her happy--

Why would you think you have a choice? You're going to do both.

I feel the queen's massive ovaries working on me. Churning out a copy of... herself. Only something is missing. Something important. I fight through this fog to try to remember it. It's not there! Not a hint, not a speck of the genetics... that would allow me to... change myself... There was supposed to be... something else!

There was?

I'm supposed to be able... to control this!

No, you're not.

I felt her ovaries pump out a huge block of DNA that's encrypted to the point where I can't read it, where only something I don't have can unlock it. And another block like that one. And another.

No-- help!

You don't need any help. You're going to be my daughter, just like you're supposed to be.

But...

Don't fight it, little one. Here, I've come up with a good name for you. I'll stick with the plant theme...

But I already have a name!!!

Oh? What is it, if you're so insistent?

I... it's... I... I can't remember...??

It's Willow. That's a nice name, don't you think?

But that's not my name! It was...

It's Willow. Willow. Willow. Say it. What's your name?

W... Willow.

Say it again.

Willow.

That's my little larva. Obedient. Aren't you? You'd lay down your little life to protect me, wouldn't you? That's all I ask, Willow. In return for granting you life, you pledge eternal loyalty to me, don't you, Willow?

Well, I...

My daughters don't hesistate, Willow! You'll be able to earn your way up the ladder, you see-- perhaps even become queen yourself someday! But to earn my favor requires absolute, unflinching loyalty. And you may not appreciate this yet, but I'm giving you an extra-special gift! You're getting a body all your own!

All my own? But--

It takes three to four puny humans to produce one fully-grown bee-girl, Willow! Of course they don't know that, going into it... But seeing as how you've given me something special... I felt it useful to return that favor! Now do I have your complete loyalty?

Yes, your highness.

That wasn't so hard, was it?

One... one thing?

Yes, little one?

What was my name... before?

Oh, I'm sorry... I can't tell you that, Willow. You are not that human anymore. You see, in the event anyone from your past life comes looking for you-- they will no longer recognize you. You are one bee-girl among hundreds of my children and will look nothing like the human you used to be. Now it's time, little one...

Wait! What's happening???

I could feel the queen's massive reproductive system sealing me into a huge, gel-like egg. Suddenly I'm released into another chamber, which is flooded with a thick liquid, a nutrient... derived from... what I used to be. The space... contains other eggs, and as I wait and absorb and grow more eggs pass from the queen's ovaries and join me.

Some time... A day? I have no idea... later, the queen gingerly dips her tail into a round protective cylinder that the engineers have built for the purpose. She squeezes me slowly, carefully from her body; a long, near-transparent, wriggling, completely useless worm; blind, unable to fly, barely able to squirm in place.

. . .

I'm wet. I don't like it. I wriggle free from my larval case and take some minutes to get to my feet.

The bee-girls around me are absolutely giant. No. I'm tiny. I have human legs and arms and a head and the body of a young girl. I look behind me. Tail, yes, stinger. Whoa. Wings? Yes. They're too small, and still stuck to my body.

One of the girls comes to me. She offers her breast to my mouth. I take it. It's sweet, thick, but she rations it, cuts me off before I can fill my stomach, moves on to the next hatchling.

I'm a tiny worker bee in a colony of bee-girls.

"Welcome," another nurse bee announces. "I understand this is quick for you, but we've been taking care of you for some time now, and it's time for you to earn place. My name's Violet." She looks around me: I'm sharing the speech with several other bewildered hatchlings. "Welcome to The Hive. You'll never be bored here: there's always something to do." Violet turns to me. "What's your name?"

"Willow."

"Who are you loyal to, Willow?"

"To the queen."

"Nicely done." She turns to the other hatchlings. "We all serve her, and by working together we've built a thriving community. We've just completed our second swarm, so it's a lot less crowded than it was just a few days ago. So. Ground rules: you, as the lowest-ranking members of our hive at the moment, are not permitted to exit the Hive at any time. You'll live here..."

Somehow, I knew all this already.

I also knew in advance what my first and only responsibility would be. Cleaning. It's the first job a new hatchling is given: starting with the leftovers of my own emergence, I am responsible for keeping the entire hive clean.

Surprisingly, or maybe not, we have mops, and buckets. Not much water: apparently there's some source of water down on the sixth floor, but not above that. The entire inside of the Hive is very smooth, thanks an epoxy-like substance produced by the Engineers, so it's like cleaning a glass countertop. Why do I know what a countertop is?

Right. I'm a bee-girl, not a bee.

With my fellow hatchlings, we got this particular nursery completely emptied and cleaned up within a few minutes of the last of my sisters' hatching. It had to be perfect, since the queen would visit soon to lay her next batch of eggs. Violet and several others checked our work. Then we took some time to start learning the hive's layout.

It's a big place. Many floors, many rooms. A mostly vertical tunnel in the center, where I think stairways and elevator shafts were supposed to have gone. My bedchamber is on the twenty-second floor, which I only know because the engineers left one small section of bare cement where you can still see the spray-painted numbers. Each entrance is dutifully guarded: the main entrance on the fifth floor and several well-hidden emergency exits.

I don't get to go outside, but then again I don't have to. The youngest bees, the Queen's Guard, and the nurses are not called on during our defensive drills. During a drill, one of the higher ranking bee-girls will sound some kind of alarm I can't even sense, and no matter what time of day or night it is, most of the hive streams out, stingers at the ready, to attack whatever the simulated threat is. I just get to watch them go.

I'd hate to be human, on the ground, looking up when that happens.

I actually don't mind the janitorial duty. It's difficult for me to change floors: my wings aren't quite large enough for my body and I'm not good at flying yet, but once I'm where I'm supposed to be it's easy to throw myself into the work. It's good exercise, and I like seeing the results. I seem to be the only one in my group that doesn't even mind cleaning up after the older girls: there seems to be this stage, the older Engineers and the younger Junior Hunters, where for some reason it's acceptable to show a little schoolgirl-like meanness to your fellow (but much lower-rankng) bee-girls-- some kind of teenage rebellious phase perhaps? In any case, when these girls know we're coming to clean up their area, they'll usually arrange to leave quite a mess for us, and no sooner have we cleaned up then they mess it up again and point it out.

I know how to handle this, to put a stop to it. I just smile and get right to work like I enjoy it, enjoy being teased that they're so much higher up the ladder than I. Even though I know that behavior will cause them to escalate. Especially since I know that they'll escalate the teasing.

"Oh, no, Willow! Looks like you need to clean up my corner now!"

"No problem." I get right to it.

"Wow. It's almost as though she likes doing that," another bee-girl says, loud enough that I can hear it.

"Of course I like it. It's my job. The fact that you give me more to do doesn't bother me."

The Engineers can be particularly messy. Their bodies are adapted to produce construction materials out of things that they eat, and they can eat almost anything. And while we don't "poop" like humans do, the engineers cannot help but excrete leftover substances that need to be... cleaned up, and sometimes they just don't feel like going outside.

"Would you clean my stinger for me, Willow? I can't reach it--"

"Of course, Rachel."

"With your tongue?"

"If that's what you'd prefer."

I move over to Rachel's ample rear end. She snickers at the other girls. "And perhaps clean my tail hole while you're down there?"

"Of course. Anything you wish."

I get down to the floor, underneath Rachel. She lifts up her tail and sets it on me. Her tail is heavier than my entire body; her stinger has traces of her poison on it, but it can't hurt me, so I lick it clean just as Rachel wishes. The other girls are startled: they've never seen a hatchling willingly take on anything like this. Yet I have vague memories of havimg my tongue between a human woman's legs.

The slit next to Rachel's stinger appears and grows. I move my tongue to it and begin licking. As my tongue touches her, she cannot help but open her slit further. She's messy down there, but not filthy or anything. Besides, nothing she can do can hurt me. I have her completely clean in no time but she doesn't want me to stop; it's crossed over into a vague sense of pleasure that Engineers, I understand, are not supposed to experience, so I stop.

"There," I say. "That's much better, if I say so myself." I caress the end of Rachel's tail to get her armor plating to close up nicely, and wipe down her stinger one more time. "Anyone else?"

Three other hands go up.

As I'm performing the same service for the next engineer, Valerie, Rachel asks:

"Willow?"

"Mmmm?" I answer, my tongue busy at the moment.

"Why would you do this?"

I break away from Valerie to answer. "I would do anything for any of you, including lay down my life for you. By serving you, I serve my Queen."

"Impressive," a new voice said.

One of the Nurses, who had helped raise me, was standing in the door opening. The Engineers startled, and straightened themselves up immediately as though it were a military inspection. I took my time, cleaned my antenna and got up.

"Come here, Willow. You've earned this."

The nurse unclipped her bra, held me to herself, and buried my face in her bosom. She held me still and had me drink from her. A fiery warmth spread quickly through my body.

"You're giving her a promotion??" one of the Engineers, who I'd yet to "service" yet, asked.

"I think she deserves it, don't you, Amanda? I mean-- look at this place. Spotless. Despite all of you."

"In fact, Willow, I think I'll spare you the Engineer role as well. Seems we don't need any more of those right now, seeing as we have no active construction projects at the moment. If you agree, Willow."

I nodded, whispered my thanks, and the nurse returned me to her breast.

The taste of the nectar from the nurse's bosom changed. A second wave of warmth spread through me.

"Two promotions?? That's not fair!" complained Valerie.

"I think it's completely fair, Valerie. Willow here has shown exemplary dedication and devotion. If she keeps this up I expect she'll be Queen's Guard in no time, perhaps even by the next swarm. There you go, Willow. You now outrank all of them. Perhaps you can teach them a thing or two about service?"

"It'd be my pleasure."
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