The Choice by: Rachel Ann Cooper © 1997
The year: 2025
The Setting: 2nd District Court, City and County of Los Angeles
Action: In the year 2025, almost every major city in the country had run out of both money for prisons and prison beds. A new solution had to be found to the problem of corrections; one that would both save the taxpayers money and the State the problem of long incarcerations. Cryo-incarceration still had not been perfected. The United States government commissioned grants to five research facilities to come up with a solution and the Bennings Institute had come up with the winning concept, duly proved through human trials, sanctioned by AMA and the FDA and penal codes had been re-written throughout the country. It took five years of study and trials and was implemented in 2030.
"Robert J. Ward, having been found guilty of the crime of aggravated assault with a deadly weapon and sexual assault, you are hereby sentence to 20 years to life at Chino or reformation at the Bennings Institute for a period of 3 months. Under the rules of our penal system, you must choose your punishment of your own free will.
How do you choose?"
20 to life or 3 months: are you nuts "I choose reformation, your Honor", Robert replied.
"Very well. You are remanded to their custody effective immediately and may you be successfully re-integrated back into society. Your punishment shall put you in touch with your victim in a way you never dreamed possible. This case is closed." I was one of the first convicted under the new system and had no idea what he meant or what was going to happen to me at this Bennings Institute but it had to beat the heck out of prison.
There were about 20 of us on the bus to the institute in a typical mix of black, white, Hispanic, oriental, mostly men and three women, all of us sex offenders who had assaulted their victims. This was a new program and no publicity had been released on the exact nature of these 90 day ‘reformations,’ but it sure had to beat 20 to whatever or death by lethal injection. They had picked a good spot for the prison, too. It was right in the middle of ‘Death Valley’ where it would be almost impossible to survive even if you could escape.
As we approached the facility, I noticed that while we were all maximum penalty prisoners, there didn’t seem to be all that much fencing and barbed wire as you would expect. There was just one large mechanized gate with ten foot high fencing.
After we got inside the gate, I realized that the cell windows didn’t even have bars on them, just some wire mesh. We were filed out and through the usual delousing and clothing change into short prison coveralls. It was summer and while the women got t-shirts to wear with theirs, we men only got the coveralls and a sweatband.
My cell mate was not particularly impressive as criminals go. He was medium built and looked like he would be more guilty of bank fraud than assault with intent to kill. I was a little bigger than he was and thought I might ‘get lucky’ and have been paired with someone who would become my love slave, but I had no idea what was in store for both of us. I had no idea how radically my ideas were about to change.
After we got our gear stored, it was time for lunch and the entire place was herded into the mess hall in shifts. I didn’t get to talk to many of the new inmates, but from the conversations that I overheard, I gathered that all of our crimes were against other people rather than stuff like bank robbery. All of the ‘fish’ or ‘newbies’ were in the first bunch to eat. None of the ones who were not new had much to say and they all looked, well, a little odd. I didn’t have time to think about it as we only had 15 minutes to eat.
At least no fights broke out and we were escorted back to our cells. I was pretty amazed at the cells. They were not the usual little six by eight or ten foot bare walled rooms with a bare toilet but actually had a little corner room for the toilet, a sink with mirror and a small desk against the back wall. On that same back wall, right in the middle, was a full length mirror made out of something unbreakable. You could stand all the way back to the door if you wanted. The only thing missing was a TV and I wouldn’t have felt much worse there than living in the rat hole I used to call home.
It wasn’t more than 15 minutes after we got back into the cell that both of us became sleepy, just couldn’t hold our eyes open and flopped onto our beds for a nap. As it turned out, the nap was pre-arranged in the lunch. We were all drugged and taken to the infirmary. This is where the major player in our ‘reformation’ came into use. It was all explained in the booklets that we found on our beds when we woke up. Transmitter capsules were implanted at the base of our hypothalamus and other strategic neural and hormonal pathways. There was also a receiver capsule implanted into our stomachs as well as one implanted next to the bone behind our left ear. This one in the stomach, we found out, was to induce pain with the mere press of a button if we got out of line or refused to go along with our ‘reformation’. The other one was not explained but had to be some sort of receiver.
Following these procedures, they injected 47,000,000 nano machines into our blood streams, programmed to follow the instructions of the transmitters and then self destruct in 90 days. If I had only known what ‘reformation’ had meant, I might have gone for the other sentence. Without exception, we awoke from our naps refreshed without a clue as to what had just happened to us until we read the booklet, that is.
The nano machines set about their pre-programmed task at once beginning to alter neural and chemical responses at all levels as well as build and destroy various portions of the body and mind and to reverse our hormonal levels as well as what produced the hormones. They worked tirelessly 24 hours a day at the alterations. They were not only altering our minds and bodies but all of the chemical structure as well, the DNA and RNA and the chromosomes cell by cell, atom by atom. . Meanwhile, we were kept in a mildly tranquilized state by the chemicals introduced in the food and subliminal messages were piped into our cells as soon as the sensors detected that we were sound asleep. REM sleep was quickly induced and we were given subliminal images and dreams that were designed to alter our behavior in a way that suited the punishment as decided by the judge in each case. As it turned out, most of the punishments seemed to run a similar course, at least among cell mates.
We had to attend psych group sessions each day and one on one just once a week. The group was balky at first about talking at all, much less about their fears, frustrations, how they got there and the changes that are taking place. The doctor led the discussions and did her best to make us understand our crimes, how we would become well adjusted members of society through this program and that we must accept these changes in order to ‘graduate.’ And the changes were coming very fast. The first thing that I noticed was how I was crossing my legs and tugging at the sides of my shorts when I sat down. Why in the world...? Over the next couple days, my emotions became pretty confused and that’s the least of it.
Roy, that’s my room mate (why did I say room instead of cell?) and I had only been there three weeks when we were given t-shirts just like the girls. We discussed the reasons behind why we are now more calm and accepting and why, when we look in the mirror each morning, something was always a little different. I quickly began to get the idea that I was beginning to look exactly like my sister Jenny, which, if you have to look like a girl, is not a bad thing. Well, I was in there for rape and it didn’t take a building to fall on me to figure out after about a month just what ‘reformation’ was all about.
The next piece of uniform they gave to Roy and me was a brassiere and we were instructed in how to wear it and to wear it all the time except to bed. Oh sweet Jesus! Now I knew what the judge meant when he said that we would get in touch with our victims in a way we wouldn’t dream possible. They were changing us. They were changing us into WOMEN! But how? Was it that stuff they put into our blood? Let the punishment fit the crime, wasn’t that what they used to do? Cut off the hand of a thief? Turn a rapist into a eunuch? The guards began calling us ‘ladies’ and if we gave them any guff, they just pressed that damned button and we’d double over in pain. We got the idea pretty fast.
The nano machines were making our hair and nails grow out beautifully, destroying proportional areas of bone and muscle, reshaping our features and frame, re-distributing fat tissue, stimulating our milk glands and surrounding tissue making our breasts swell with amazing speed, dissolving away our Adams apple and .050 of each vocal cord. They reshaped our skull, teeth, tongue and the bone structure and facial features we once thought of as masculine. At the end of 30 days, I had shrunk from 5'11" to 5'6" had lost 40 pounds and while I was at first almost hysterical over the results of my "choice," I was now more accepting of my fate. I didn’t know I was yet to shrink another inch. Roy seemed to understand from the beginning what he was in for and just took everything in stride. I couldn’t believe how calmly he took all this, as if he was actually enjoying it. Hell, maybe he was, or should I say she?
It was harder to see it happening to myself, but I could see Roy becoming more feminine in his thoughts and actions with each passing day. I could see his knees and his thighs filling in and his hands and feet becoming smaller and female. It was like I was merely an observer but it was obvious that his once lean, muscular body was losing tone and size and assuming more each day the natural contours of a woman. We had been there barely a month and already we were both ready for the next sized bra and panties and smaller sizes in everything else.
At this point, I was avoiding looking into the mirror for fear of what I knew I would see. Our voices were both beginning to take on a different pitch and the sing-song up and down expression that is so typical of women’s speech. When I used the phone, people began referring to me as miss. Words I would never have thought of using became everyday things like sweet, cute, darling, divine, luscious, hunk and that whole gamut of feminine talk.
I looked on as Roy evolved, (that was the only word I could use) his/her soft, pink areola becoming larger and darker and ‘her’ bosom just waiting to burst into maturity. If I had still been a real man, I would have been very attracted to her but I knew the very same thing was happening to my own body. Finally, I could take the suspense no longer, feeling somehow, a longing to see the very same things happening to me and I gazed into the looking glass. And sure as rain in spring, the very same changes had taken place in me. Smaller, softer, rounder, ever progressing toward the inevitable attractive young woman–another Jenny.
The little desk now had a vanity mirror and was supplied with appropriate cosmetics, which we were, I’m ashamed to say, beginning to enjoy using and experimenting with. As we progressed into our second month, we were given cosmetology lessons, learning and practicing on each other and dammit, I was really beginning to like the new me and learned how to give myself that model’s perfect complexion with the expert help of our cosmetology teacher.. The nanos, interestingly enough had already removed all the blemishes, moles, birthmarks and freckles from our skin. My teeth, which I was used to seeing with fillings and a small gap in the front were now the picture of feminine perfection. She (I) was attractive, if I do say so myself, even if she was a work in progress.. I guess I really was becoming my sister’s twin. Well, I could do a lot worse and boy, was she going to be surprised! She was still single and maybe we could share a few things and take the pressure off my meager wardrobe.
When we were started on the cosmetology, we were also given shirtwaist dresses, half slips, pantyhose and mid-heeled shoes that we were required to wear at all times when we were not in our nighties. Yes, slinky, clinging nylon nighties and matching robes and mid heeled slippers and we had to wear all of this to breakfast. It was really a sight, all these developing women with their hair up in rollers daintily eating, no longer wolfing down breakfast. And with our developing bodies underneath, this gave undeniable proof to our need for and appreciation of feminine sleep wear. We quickly learned to love them over the rough flannel pajamas we were given at first. Now it was the females who had to wear the pajamas as they watched their bosoms disappear. And we all had little clotheslines in the rooms for drying our hose and underthings.
We continued to go to the psych sessions and it was plain to see that the subliminal conditioning was having it’s affect on all of us as we new ‘girls’ sat there with our manicured hands and polished finger and toenails, gesturing just as we were always women, with our wavy hairdos and growing bosoms.
When the nanos got into high gear, I became really confused but the confusion was displaced by a positive knowledge of what was taking place and would eventually happen. I think for the first couple weeks, we were receiving super high doses of female hormones but then our developing ovaries took over. Once in a while, the doctor would just let us get into conversations and gab on like any other group of women. This too, must have been part of our conditioning to the female position around the dinner table or a church social. I remember, it was at the second session in July that we were all encouraged to think about new names for ourselves and to decide before the next session. That was the easy part for me.
I had been nuts about a girl in high school named Michelle. She was a dream and that was the name I chose. Roy decided on Ruth Ann. It suited her. I see that I’m now thinking of us in feminine pronouns. Well, why should that surprise me. Gawd, I look in the mirror and see a 5'6" 24 year old girl where a 5'11" 29 year old male used to stand. The doctors have told us not to be alarmed by any of this as we were being changed down to the cellular level and were now already the proud possessors of XX chromosomes and that could never be changed back and our DNA markers were unmistakably female. The only thing left unchanged was our finger prints which were now smaller but still the same patterns and our actual blood type. That way they could always identify us no matter what we looked like.
About the middle of the second month, we were started on typing, shorthand and computer skill courses as well as cooking, housekeeping and bookkeeping so that when we got out, we would be prepared to either be a good wife or support ourselves. All of this was also accelerated by the subliminal messages they fed us each night. We didn’t know about these tapes until we’d been there about a month when one of the regular staff office girls was overheard talking about them. It was then I pretty much gave up, but not entirely surrendering what was left of Robert’s fight for survival. I knew I just could not win but I had to keep trying.
I’m glad that we soon to be women had gotten to know each other some because when it came time to learn about feminine hygiene, I must have spent a half hour blushing. They showed us a movie in psyche session all about sex and sexually transmitted diseases and how to prevent them as well as birth control, a subject that I just knew was going to be near and dear to our hearts. There was instruction on how to use a tampon and even which direction to wipe to keep from getting a yeast infection. Boy, I never knew there was so much to keeping a girl clean and fresh especially after sex. And then there was the question and answer session with the doctor afterward. Well, I am just glad it was a lady doctor because she really understood the subject and made sure we did too.
My mind has been so bombarded with this programming that I am actually beginning to like myself as a girl. If I had known that the receiver in my head was getting these messages 24 hours a day, I would not have been surprised. How else could I explain that I knew without instruction how to walk, talk, gesture, sit, stand, bend over, even eat and otherwise conduct myself as a lady? It seemed a likely explanation but I didn’t discuss it with anyone. For the life of me, I could not understand why I seemed to be getting so excited about becoming a woman. Of course, we all talked about it but nobody would admit they actually liked the idea and yet, there it was in the back of my mind. With each passing day, I wanted my transition to speed up and be 100% successful so I could get on with my life and somewhere in the secret recesses of my id there was a man screaming ‘help me, I’m drowning in estrogen!’.
Oh yes, I guess I forgot to mention that. The nano machines were hard at work doing psyche and plastic surgery inside our bodies as well, creating and rearranging things as necessary. The latest CAT scan revealed that my ovaries, fallopian tubes and vagina were coming along as planned. A pocket was well along forming in front of my anus and labia hid what was left of my former manhood, now my new erogenous zone, my clit. I knew it would be a very short time before we were all girl. None of the new ‘girls’ could use the urinals any more and we knew that we were going to receive all of the standard female reproductive equipment but somehow, it no longer bothered us.
We had been brought to the point of puberty, I suppose, where we just couldn’t wait for womanhood to overtake us just like most teen aged girls. Their brainwashing was very complete, so complete in fact that I actually looked forward to the end of this journey as a blessing and not a punishment. Poor Bob was a goner. These people were very good at what they did. I began to have girlish fantasies and dreams; dreams about men and love and babies like any teen aged girl. The Institute had a fair sized library and a lot of romance novels to which we both became addicted. They helped us live out our new fantasies. Ruth Ann and I would discuss our dreams and fantasies and our plans and we really became good friends. Like most girl friends, we didn’t have any secrets and compared notes on what we were thinking and what was happening to our bodies.
I noticed that my hands, once large and strong, now possessed small palms and long slender fingers. They now looked like maybe a female size seven. I also noticed that I was now much weaker than I could have imagined, maybe 65% of what a male of similar size might be. I had trouble getting the ketchup bottles open at the dining table. No wonder Robert so easily over-powered women.
I spent at least an hour a day experimenting with various makeups and hair styles trying to find ‘my look.’ In the end, it was going to end up as Jenny’s twin no matter what I did with maybe just a different hairdo to tell us apart. I remember standing in front of our mirror in my night gown one night, marveling at my bosom, with nipples jutting out proudly, hips and the other outward changes. Roy had already gone to sleep. I closed my eyes and was transported to a dance that Jenny and I attended in college.
She was lovely in her blue silk evening dress and matching satin 4" pumps with her hair piled high, looking up dreamily into the eyes of her boyfriend as they swirled around the floor. While I was standing there swaying to the music in my head, suddenly there was a tingle where my manhood used to be as I realized that it was not Jenny but I who was dreamily reaching up with my lips to kiss my 6'2" partner.
My hands went down to the moist slit that had once been my manhood. I had no control as I slowly manipulated my new clit.to a climax and then and a shudder rent throughout my body. I was re-oriented. Totally! They had done it. Men had become the object of my affections, desires and sexual fantasies. Oh, my. But it felt so good, so...right and such an honest emotion. This all got me a little worked up and I went to bed and for the first time, lifted my nightie and explored my new self in depth and oh yes, there was depth and it felt good and I wondered what it would be like to have my boyfriend in there. I really had a warm and fuzzy dream that night.
The last batch of ‘free choice’ inmates to arrive only a few weeks ago had already gotten to the point of not being able to use the men’s room and were, therefore, severely disciplined if they did not go to the ladies. What they had brought with them had already been rendered lifeless by the reformation therapies.. My feelings for them were somewhat mixed. I was glad they would not hurt anyone again and happy for the joy that I knew would soon overtake them but was a little sad for them at the same time. In order to earn our way back into society, we had to give up our sex or rather, accept a new one. I guess it’s all in your point of view. Lose/win or win/lose, it ended up the same. The penal system saw it as win/win naturally. It was cost effective to put us through this conversion rather than house and feed us at a cost of $30 to $40,000 per year per prisoner. We were then turned back into the work force paying taxes. Very cost effective and smart.
I can’t explain it, but I was actually looking forward to the day when my menses began. Not that I was looking forward to being married to a tampon for several days a month but I had brought enough women to orgasm to know they seemed to get a lot more out of it than I did and I was looking forward to that experience. That blasted receiver behind my ear again, I’ll bet.
For one thing, I knew that by then, my breasts would stop hurting and be fully developed. Needless to say, the women who had committed offenses against men were undergoing the very same reconstructions both mental and physical. Two of them were in for battery and the other for murder. Their training was just the opposite of ours as was their clothing, hair and deportment adjustments.
As part of our preparation, we had to learn to sew and after we had mastered making a nice dress, our next project was a business suit, one that we could wear to interviews. I was in a C cup now and my large and tender brown areola surrounded ½ inch nipples that seemed ready to suckle a child and they were erect all the time. As a result, they showed right through my light summer dresses, but I had a lot of company in my embarrassment, so it wasn’t so bad. Actually, I was secretly thrilled with my new curves and admit to becoming a bit narcissistic.
It was then that we all got our pretty black patent high heels which we had to wear to all our school classes and psyche sessions as we were expected to act and look like ladies at all times. Somehow, they instilled in us a pride, a thrill, call it what you will, in our feminine appearance and actions. After wearing the mid heels for so long, I just loved how sexy the new ones made me feel and even though my feet had shrunk to a size 7B, I thought about how wonderfully feminine I might feel in 4" pumps. (Was I going nuts?) I found out very quickly that I had to take smaller steps but had long since mastered balancing, pointing my toes straight ahead and one foot in front of the other. I don’t remember them taking any special pains to teach us these things but knew them as well as the sun rises.
They gave me a part time job in the office, so I spent most of my time ‘dressed up’ and wearing my pretty clothes and my dress heels. I didn’t much appreciate one of the guards trying to feel me up, but then, why should I be surprised? Was I not becoming an attractive woman? Were my nipples not always erect? Was there not an inviting sway in my walk? There was this cute guy in the office who cornered me one day and I ended up letting him kiss me. It gave me such a rush, I kissed him back in a long and lingering French kiss and he got himself a nice smear of Loreal for his trouble. I knew for sure Bob was in trouble then because I really enjoyed kissing that man just the way I did in my fantasy dance only this time it was real and hot and I liked it. That night, I really had a lot of boy romances girl dreams and I was always the girl. What had they managed to do to me?
The next morning, as we were having breakfast, I glanced up at Roy, now Ruth and was momentarily transfixed by her eyes. They sparkled, danced. They were happy.
And I wondered; if the eyes are truly the mirror of the soul, could they have actually changed our very souls, that marriage of spirit with the flesh so much that we were now, even in spirit, changing into female spirits? When we got back to the room and it was my turn at the makeup mirror, I looked deeply into my own eyes and saw what I dreaded and yet knew. Even my spirit was becoming female. Even if I were disembodied; even if I died, I would still be a female. The thought and the reality of it were mind boggling and wasn’t a damn thing that I even wanted to do about it.
What I saw there was soft, sweet resolution; a calm I had never known before.
One little quirk they did insist on was that we all wear a gartered waist cincher and stockings after we got used to the panty hose. I must admit, I found these garments to be very feminine and sexy and loved the extra four inches off my waist and don’t miss the pantyhose at all. The fact is, I really don’t like pantyhose at all and while some will argue hose is hose, I find that gartered stockings are such a turn on and so much more sheer and sexy. I even had a dream about my boyfriend running his hand up my stockinged and gartered leg as we both enjoyed the sensation of that silky nylon as his hand moved beyond the tops. (Was this really me thinking this? Me, a rapist? A man who enjoyed wielding power over women? And now, I could be raped. Now I knew the fear. Now I understood. Now I knew what the judge had meant and I just knew that I was going to be a very GOOD girl as well as a cautious one). I found out from another convert in the office that the cinchers were helping to guide the nanos in reshaping our waists.
We were constantly surrounded by subliminal conditioning and assurances about our new roles in society and how to function and to accept ourselves. We were now allowed to go the ‘the company store’, a sort of boutique for the inmates and to choose clothing to try, and cosmetics as well and then we would be critiqued at the next psyche session by the doctor and our peers on how well we did. It was like going through puberty and seeking parental and peer approval and it worked very well in shaping our style and tastes. They carried everything from the conservative to Fredericks’ of Hollywood. I leaned toward Frederick’s a bit. I just love sexy lingerie.
We continued to undergo physical changes. I shrank another inch and tipped the scales at 120 pounds. Our hip bones widened to child bearing proportions, making our waists appear smaller (which they were anyway thanks to the nanos) and by now, we had all pretty much reached our potential physical growth as women (or men). I was now a size 8 with a 34C bust. At only 5'9" in my highest heels, I thought I looked pretty foxy. Now I knew why Jenny never had a shortage of men chasing her. Of course, learning to dance backwards in high heels was a real learning experience, one they made us go through with the male guards and office personnel. I got a new respect for Ginger Rogers dancing with Fred Astaire. All those same moves and in high heels!
It was pretty shocking for the previous females to now need a jock strap in the exercise yard but they too, seemed to be taking it in stride including the shaving and hair in places they had never anticipated. We all had our special subliminal programs running for us and there was no escape. One of them had grown to 6'2" and turned into quite a hunk. On the other hand, we all had the luck of having the nano machines destroy those 30,000 beard follicles on our faces and lighten or destroy the other unwanted hair growth. I don’t know why girls make such a fuss about having to shave their legs and underarms. Of course, the busy little beasties devoured all of our extraneous body hair and left us with nothing but the usual triangle patch. I just love the smooth feeling of my nylons caressing freshly shaved legs, don’t you?
As we approached our release date, we continued to experience certain minor changes, I think most of them mental. I could no longer look in the mirror and see ANY of the former self. I was so smooth and soft and rounded and didn’t even WANT to see any other person looking back at me. I noticed with interest that none of the new graduates were really unattractive. I suppose they wanted us to have a decent chance at acceptance in the work force or marriage.
Somehow, they had even figured a way to make us almost forget our former selves entirely, even our names. Robert was gone replaced by a carbon copy of Jenny. I don’t think I ever appreciated how pretty my kid sister was until I became her twin. Bob’s instincts and his bad behavior were but a memory, a bad memory. I wanted nothing more to do with him. In fact, I could no longer imagine wanting to be any way except like what I saw in the mirror, a young attractive woman with her whole life ahead of her, looking forward to love and maybe even raising a family. (Again I realized the import of what the judge had said. Here was the former...what WAS my name... looking forward to getting pregnant after being convicted of rape. This was quite a system they developed). I was Michelle Louise Ward, of course, Jenny’s twin sister.
They had allowed us to continue to sew and I had done rather well in making quite a few dresses, skirts and blouses to wear in the office and to start my new life. If we had money (and I did) we were allowed to purchase lingerie, accessories and dressy shoes in the boutique, never anything ultra casual. They were about the business of turning out LADIES & TH E OCCASIONAL GENTLEMAN.
I hate to admit it but I was beginning to get, well, shall we say sexually stimulated on a rather frequent basis? OK. Horney!
So, one night, Ruth and I did a little experimenting. I have to admit, it WAS a lot of fun and very different to climax as a woman. Mind you, it’s not something I crave as a steady diet with another woman but I just had to find out a little about how it felt. I really do have a strong yen for men now, as if I had a choice!
One of the benefits we were not told about was that we would be receiving a diploma from the Bennings Institute of Business and Cosmetology when we ‘graduated.’ I had been a bookkeeper before and with this new diploma as a woman could see no reason not to continue. With everything I already knew about it, I could see myself as a supervisor before long. The Institute was very thorough. Before we left, there was not a trace of our old selves in any computer anywhere and our minds were blanking out on our former selves. It was like they had access to the Defcon supercomputer and just wiped the slate clean. We had new I.D. from birth certificates to car titles. Whatever we owned, whoever we were had been changed to match our new station in life and when they handed us our new purses with all our papers and I.D., that was all we knew. The purses all contained a two month supply of "the pill." We were allowed to keep anything that we made or bought while there and they also gave us a suitcase and makeup case. They left things like our education in place but under our new names and sex and there was no way back.
The nano machines couldn’t do everything. Our eyebrows were arched by electrolysis. We were allowed to get permanent eyeliner at the salon and I did elect this as I love dramatic eyes. All our ears were double pierced. I just love dangles brushing against my neck underneath my now shoulder length strawberry blond hair. How could I ever have enjoyed being a man let alone do what they say he did. How can one person violate another like that? It’s like it was another person, a person I never wanted to be again. I enjoy being a girl and so does Ruth Ann. She’s now 5'4" with the cutest figure. Well, this is MY story. She can tell her own another time.
They actually held a graduation ceremony with us all dressed in our best. I bought some sexy black lingerie as a present for Ruth because she couldn’t afford it. I thought she might like it under the black satin sheath she wore to graduation. It’s funny how a person’s viewpoint can change with the right encouragement, isn’t it?
Oh, I know what can happen to me now. I can get pregnant. But that is actually something I may be looking forward to, with the right man. I just love the new gentler me and the click of my heels as I walk down the sidewalk, the swish of my skirts and that darned wiggle I can’t seem to get rid of. Men seem to like it though! I’ve really gotten into liking makeup too, especially creamy lipstick like Loreal.
That receiver they put in our heads? Yep, on full blast the whole time we were there. We thought it was just at night. We were wrong.
That’s how they were able to re-program us so fast. As part of making us forget who we were, they gave us all memories of female child upbringing; the clothes, hair, friends, boyfriends, high school; everything was replaced into the new gender right up to the minute the implants were removed on our last day. We pretty much had no real past, only our futures.
Epilogue:
It’s been six months since I got out and I did manage to find a nice job. I even found a cute guy at work. He is 6' tall and very cute and we are dating but since I had my first mense a couple months ago, I know I have to be careful. And now I know I was right about what I only THOUGHT about how much more women enjoy sex. Wow, what an explosion, MULTIPLE EXPLOSIONS, but I make him take precautions and we both get tested every three months for disease. As a practical matter, I discovered that how GOOD a girl I was seemed to have something to do with whether I was in love with the man or not. How good I am as a girl in BED is something I can’t really comment on objectively. Norman says I am just great. He gets me bothered just kissing him and if we start to pet, look out, an explosion’s coming.
Oh, yes, I do enjoy being a girl even if it WAS forced on me. If I’d known how much fun it was going to be, who knows, I may have gone and done it on my own but I’m there now and I’ve promised myself, I’ll never rape a man or harm another human. I really don’t remember many of the details about the Institute anymore. They left that implant at the base of our necks and tucked another one under each breast. Those are our lifetime supply of replacement hormones once our ovaries shut down at menopause.
It’s all kind of a blur of rather happy memories now. I’d bet that has something to do with that neck implant. It wasn’t really a prison, more like a health spa and everyone came out feeling like a new person <giggle>. I’m having a harder and harder time remembering anything about my former life. I know there WAS one and that I had been a bad girl and been punished but the details...well, they were just fading away.
All in all, I’d say the new penal system should be a great success at cutting prison overcrowding. With most of the crimes against individuals going to the Institute and the ‘graduates’ coming out with new skills and attitudes (not to mention bodies)and now with the penalty for these crimes well known, personal crime is down. Even though the Institute keeps a tight rap on things, word about how they handle offenders leaked to the press anyway.
That’s how I heard about the Bennings Institute. That must be some kind of place that could change a person totally. Occasionally I get an inkling of a memory, or think I do and then it is gone. Oh, some still think they can get away with it, but most are caught and ‘reformed.’ Reformation. To understand what they mean, you have to break down that word...RE-FORMED!. I’ve learned to love my reformation ( I DO just faintly remember being there, a little reminder I think they left in case I should be naughty again) especially since I love kids as much as I do.
If things work out the way I hope with Norm, I’ll probably be expecting about next March. He proposed to me in a candle lit restaurant and gave me a gorgeous 1 karat ring. Wish me luck. Mom and Dad were invited to tour the Institute so they would understand what has happened. Everyone’s close relatives were invited to tour the institute. Most accepted the all expense paid vacation, which included a trip to Las Vegas. Mom remembers the birth of her twin girls now and so does Daddy as well as every detail of my rearing just the way I remember it. I’m sure lucky I wasn’t born a boy but wouldn’t mind having a couple.
the end
© 1997
The above work is copyrighted material. Anyone wishing to copy, archive, or re-post this
story must contact the author for permission.
At the request of the author, this story is presented in a 12 point, Times New Roman font.