Author’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters or events portrayed to any person or entity, living or dead, is purely coincidental and unintended. This work also includes mature subject matter and may not be appropriate for those under the age of eighteen. No part of this work may be published, reproduced, posted or distributed in any form, including electronic storage and retrieval, without the prior express, written consent of the author. All rights reserved. Personal archiving for private use is approved.

Acknowledgments: I am deeply indebted to Terry Sarkel for her time, her patience, and her wonderful editing skills, which are a great part of this story.

 

Scrambled Souls

Part 4

By

Julia Manchester

Copyright 2002

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

Larry Taylor wrapped up the meeting and thanked his department heads for their exceptional work and dedication. After 45 days, the colony was in far better shape than he would have dared to hope a few weeks before. Every family now had their own home, and the burgeoning business and commercial area was expanding rapidly. The conversion to a currency based economy, and the privatization of most of the activities was proceeding according to the original plan, albeit far more slowly than originally anticipated.

The agriculture stations were coming along nicely too, with two completed, and the others in various stages of construction. Crops of wheat, corn, and rice had already been planted, and the livestock incubators were being filled with the first generation of chickens, ducks, geese and turkeys. The larger animals were being deferred until the facilities designed for them were completed.

On the political front, things seem to have quieted down a bit since the election. Pat O’ Shea’s public humiliation of her former spouse had been met with initial applause by the colonists at the meeting, but on further reflection many of them had realized that the former woman’s remarks were out of line, and a sympathy backlash had forced postponement of the Reproductive Duties clause in the Charter. Though Pat had been elected, her popularity had suffered, and even she appeared to be somewhat hesitant in enforcing the clause now. Larry did not know what had happened, but he suspected Pat had been hearing about the miserable way she had treated her former husband.

Socially, things seemed to calming down a bit, and perhaps an evolutionary process had taken hold. Larry wasn’t certain why, but the colonists seemed to settling into their new roles a little better and there were far less conflicts than during the first few weeks. The M/F transies had become increasingly feminine in their movements, gestures, speech patterns, and even their thoughts, and Dr. Goethe had opined that the changes were due to the fact that their brains were being assaulted by estrogen every day. In his briefing, he had explained that men’s and women’s’ brains were configured differently, largely due to the presence of the different hormones in their bodies, and he theorized that, over time, the thought patterns would be changed -- harmonized -- with the new host body. His hypothesis seemed to be borne out by the fact that subtle changes in personality were quite often observed to occur in conjunction with the menstrual cycles of the new women.

Similarly, the F/M transies were undergoing similar, though opposite changes. They were increasingly masculine in their posture and gestures, and they were far more aggressive. Fortunately, as time passed, they seemed better able to handle the "testosterone rush" they had first experienced upon awakening.

Of course, the changes were not completely due to biochemical influences. Dr. Goethe had explained that societal pressure, size and strength, self-image, and a myriad of other factors, all contributed to the changes in behavior.

Larry really couldn’t concern himself with the "why" of it -- all he knew was that relative peace had been restored, and more and more reversed couples were coming forward to confirm their marriages. After the election, they had decided to extend the deadline for another month, and so far it was proving to be a sound decision.

____________________

Danielle was enjoying her new privacy, and she took advantage of the fact that there were no males around to see her nude form by removing her nightie and walking into the bathroom without a stitch of clothing. The only other family remaining in the unit had finally moved into their new quarters, leaving Danielle, Denise, Linda, Dan, Jr. and Vicky as the only occupants of their building. Linda was at the new high school at the moment, and Dan Jr. -- who they had taken to calling "Dani" -- was with Vic at the elementary school. Denise was getting ready to leave for her nursing class, and Danielle was preparing for her own class.

Unlike the others, Danielle was not studying, but teaching. Though she lacked the physical strength and stamina to do her old job, she still was an experienced engineer, and when the advanced training programs had been set up, Larry had asked her to work with three young men who were interested in civil engineering. The training programs were the colony’s version of a college education, and Danielle had been thrilled to take on the responsibility. With the kids in school, she had the time, and teaching college level courses -- using her own training and experience -- was far better than some clerical job.

The three young men had been stunned to discover their instructor was a gorgeous young woman, and at first they were skeptical of Danielle’s ability, but it didn’t take long before they realized she knew her field inside and out, and now they paid attention to her for a different reason, or at least another reason, she thought with an amused expression.

Danielle could laugh at it now, but her sense of humor had only recently returned. It had been awfully rough for the first week after her miscarriage, but Karen and her daughters had badgered, cajoled, and argued with her until she had finally accepted who and what she was. She was still haunted by the miscarriage, but her internal battle against her newfound feminine form was over. And when a truce was finally declared, she was surprised at how good she felt and how well others accepted her. She was still a little rough around the edges, but she was learning and growing more confident in her new self. The teaching job, even though it was only part time, had boosted her self-confidence tremendously, and now she looked forward to each day.

Danielle had gotten to the point where she wasn’t afraid to look and act feminine. She didn’t flaunt her femininity, especially since her position as a "professor" demanded a certain amount of decorum, but she rapidly came to the conclusion that her new body would look sexy no matter what she wore, and she no longer tried to hide in plain sight. The young mother and wife who had owned Danielle’s form had not been a professional woman, so there hadn’t been a lot in her wardrobe that was appropriate for an instructor, and Danielle was forced to wear sun dresses and floral print skirts the first week of classes. After that, she discovered a small shop run by a woman who was a seamstress that served as sort of a clothing exchange, with alterations available. Danielle had picked up three skirt suits that were more in keeping with her new position, and after she finally mastered the use of makeup and hair care, she looked very professional, though no one would be calling her "prof" with her figure and face.

But that was okay too. The former middle-aged, male engineer slipped her feet into a pair of navy mid heel pumps that matched her suit, and grabbed her purse and headed out the door with a smile on her face.

____________________

Pat had moved into the new home she had built, and she had asked Denise and Linda to come with her, but they had both refused. Neither of them wanted anything to do with their mother after the way she had treated Danielle. Pat knew the arrangement couldn’t continue indefinitely -- the building was supposed to be converted into a restaurant -- but the switchover was several months away yet so she bided her time. In the meantime, she had work to do, though there wasn’t as much of a backlog as before.

At the moment, she was sitting in the great room of the huge house she had constructed for her family, knocking back her third Scotch and water of the young evening and staring out at the valley from her lofty perch. The sun was setting and bottom of the valley was already shrouded in darkness. The shadows shifted slightly as Einstein zoomed across the sky, casting its dull reflection on the planet below, but it was gone in minutes, leaving the colony darker than before.

Pat sat on her new hand-made couch -- the house was almost completely furnished now -- and watched tiny points of light wink on across the valley as the light faded. Most of the colonists now had their own homes, and Pat took a great deal of pride in the fact that she and her crew had built a fair share of them. But her sense of accomplishment could not chase away the deep depression she felt. What good was it if she was alone? She had built this house for her family, yet not one of her children had wanted to come with her after the election. They all preferred to stay with Dan in that miserable, shared unit, and that hurt.

She regretted saying the things she had in public, but Dan was partly to blame too, for refusing to yield to the new reality and accept his new role. Pat had adapted, and she couldn’t see why her former husband could not. And how was she supposed to know that he was pregnant? He didn’t look pregnant, and Dan had not seen fit to tell her. Maybe if he had told her his problem, she would have understood.

Perhaps she had been too preoccupied with her work to notice much around the house, but she was doing a vital job, and doing it so well she’d been promoted twice. Now, with the advent of the currency-based economy and the privatization of businesses, she had managed to scrape up enough capital to buy the construction machines her crew had used, and to form her own construction company. Most of her crew had agreed to stay with her, and with her reputation for good work and fast performance, Pat figured to do well.

"What the hell," she said aloud; just to hear the sound of a human voice. It wasn’t as if she lacked for female companionship. Plenty of women knew the score, and they were attracted to a hard-charging risk taker like her. Pat knew they looked on her as a desirable mate -- after all, she was a member of the Colonial Assembly, and a new business owner who stood to make a fortune in the building boom the colony was experiencing. So she’d had a succession of women up to the house recently, and some of them had quite beautiful, though none of them could hold a candle to her former husband. She couldn’t get over what a babe Dan had become, and she thought it was a waste that he didn’t act the part.

Well, she would show him what he was missing -- she’d show all of them. The failure of the routing program had given Pat more than a new body; it had also infused her with a burning ambition to be the best, to become the master of her own destiny and to be the one who called the shots for others. She was mystified that she could have ever been satisfied with her previous life as a shy, demure and supportive wife when the real excitement was in the acquisition of money and power.

____________________

Keith Ellis sat in the bleachers in the community center and watched as his friend Jerrud Sadler leaped high to grab a rebound. Jerrud came down, and in one motion, he fired the ball to Keith’s masculinized sister, who was breaking for the opposite basket. Kelli (Kyle) trapped the ball with one hand without breaking stride and dribbled once before making an easy lay-up. The play looked simple, but Keith knew that Jerrud and Kelli had practiced it for countless hours. As the ball dropped through the net, he sprang to his feet and cheered loudly, impressed by the timing and grace of his friend and his sister.

It was almost a reflex action, but as Keith jumped to his feet, his ponytail bobbed and his breasts bounced, while his short A-line skirt swirled and danced around his thighs, exposing even more of his sleek, shapely legs. A moment later, the former boy realized he was attracting the attention of several of the guys in the sparse crowd, and he quickly resumed his seat. He was beginning to get used to the interested looks he received from boys his own age, but he was still a bit shy about calling attention to himself. The problem was he tended to forget himself when he really got into a game, and then his old instincts took over.

Keith had always enjoyed basketball, and had played with Jerrud lots of times on Earth, but he couldn’t possibly compete with the guys anymore. He’d lost too much height, weight and strength to survive the bruising, full contact sport that basketball had become. But he could still appreciate the game, and it was fun to watch, especially when Jerrud and his sister were playing.

He had to admit that Kelli had done well since their switch. She had been working out regularly, and with her hard physical work on the road crew and her new mania for basketball, she had begun to develop a fantastic physique. Keith had been no slouch himself when it came to working out, but his sister was now really "buff," and once in a while Keith still felt jealous. It didn’t help that she now teased him in much the same way he had once teased her, and he had begun to react exactly as she once had -- by making snide comments and complaining to their mother. It was a bitter realization to discover there were no other options available to him, and he now understood why Kelli had reacted as she had. It was frustrating to be the twin sister of a testosterone-charged teenage boy.

But Keith really hadn’t come to watch Kelli anyway. He had come to see Jerrud play. His friend was just about the best basketball player in the colony, and it was fun to sit in the stands and watch him dominate a game. Keith was glad their friendship had survived his transformation and he enjoyed being able to talk with Jerrud, but their relationship had changed along with his gender, and Keith was often perplexed by the way Jerrud treated him and by some of the things he said. Back on Earth, Jerrud often called him "Squirt," and would occasionally tease him about something. It had never been malicious -- just some good-natured ribbing and banter between friends -- sometimes accompanied by a friendly shove or a light punch on the shoulder -- and it had just seemed normal to him.

They had often talked about girls, and in the manner of teenage boys their discussions had been hormone driven observations concerning a particular girl’s breasts or legs or figure, or boasts about "how far" they had gotten with a chick. But now that HE was a "chick" everything was different. Jerrud was as friendly as ever -- perhaps more so -- but he treated Keith with an almost exaggerated politeness that sometimes made Keith uneasy, and their conversations no longer contained any references to other girls.

Jerrud was still Keith’s best friend, though, and they still hung out together, so after the game, Keith waited outside the men’s lockers while Jerrud and his sister showered and changed. Since it was Friday night, the three of them planned to go up the dune and get together with the rest of the gang for a party. They’d done that a lot lately, and this time Keith had one of Kelli’s bikinis tucked away in his shoulder bag. After several weeks of watching the other females parading around in their skimpy suits, he had decided he was being silly in refusing to wear one. The heat was just as oppressive as when they had landed, and Keith saw no reason why he shouldn’t be as comfortable as possible.

Kelli and Jerrud barged through the doors from the lockers, laughing and talking excitedly, and Keith felt a twinge of nostalgia as he watched the two males emerge, flushed with victory and the physical exertion of the game. When Jerrud spotted Keith, he broke off the conversation and headed over to his feminized friend.

"Hey, ah, Keith, how did you like the game?"

"Great, but it seemed like you guys were just playing with the other team in the second half," Keith observed, adding: "I thought you could’ve scored another ten or twelve points at least."

"I’m surprised it was that obvious," Jerrud replied, glancing around to make sure no one overheard him.

"Jerrud, it’s me -- Keith. I may look different, but I’ve played with you, and watched you long enough to know your game. You were sandbagging."

"Yeah, we were, and there’s a reason for that," Jerrud replied, moving closer to Keith and lowering his voice. "The school is forming a league, and if the current teams appear evenly matched they’ll let us stay with them, but if one team looks too good they may break it -- us -- up to divide the talent more evenly. The seven of us want to stay together, so we decided to shave a few points and make the game look close."

"I wish they’d form a league I could play on, but when a few of us tried to organize things, we couldn’t find enough girls for two crummy teams, much less a league," Keith complained.

"Yeah, I heard that a lot of the M/Fs just weren’t interested," Jerrud sympathized. "Maybe they’ll change their minds after a while."

The three teens left the building and walked down towards the ocean, chatting about school, and how strange it seemed to have split classes. Since there were only 12 sophomores, including Keith and Kelli, their class had been combined with the 16 freshmen, and it was still a very small group. Jerrud’s senior class had but 10, and they were combined with the 16 juniors.

The view from atop the dune was spectacular, as usual, and Keith stared out at the vast ocean from the small grove of bent trees on the windward side. A slight onshore breeze swirled his skirt about his thighs and blew a few stray strands of hair in his face, but he enjoyed the refreshing feeling. Jerrud and Kelli had remained near the fire pit to give Keith a little privacy to change, and after a cautious glance back at the growing crowd of teenagers, Keith stepped into a small, windblown hollow behind several of the scrawny trees. Kneeling down amidst the scrawny, exposed roots, Keith looked again in the direction of the others, then pulled his skimpy little suit from his shoulder bag and set it next to himself. Then, he crossed his arms in front of himself and pulled his pink knit top over his head in one quick motion. Setting his top aside, Keith bent low, reached behind his back, and unhooked the band of his bra in one practiced motion. He quickly slid the straps down his arms and discarded his bra and reached for his suit top in one motion, ignoring the way his growing breasts hung down from his chest. He slipped the straps of the bikini top up his arms in the blink of an eye, and drew the tiny triangular cups down over his nicely shaped tits even as he reached back to hook the top.

Keith took a moment to arrange himself in the cups, then raised himself up a bit so he could glance back at the others once more. When he was satisfied that nobody was approaching his impromptu dressing room, he grabbed his bikini bottom in one hand and reached back to the small of his back to ease the zipper of his skirt down. When that was accomplished, he slid the skirt to his knees, stood up for a moment, laid the skirt on the sand, and quickly planted his bottom on it. He squirmed his panties off nervously, and then practically jumped into his bikini bottom.

"Whew!" he sighed as he sat down on his skirt again and reached out to remove his shoes and socks. He arranged his clothes in a nice neat pile, dug into his purse for a scrunchie for his hair, then stood up and brushed the sand off his skirt. Keith was surprised how stressed out he was from the simple act of changing, and he took a deep breath before heading back to the others.

When he did, his breasts strained against the cups of his glossy, red lycra bikini, and the former boy glanced down at the cleavage that seemed to grow more pronounced every day. He wasn’t exactly a pneumatic blonde -- yet -- but his B cup breasts looked large on his slim frame, and his nipples pushed into the suit as if they were vying with each for attention. A few weeks before Keith wouldn’t have dared to go out in public wearing anything like the bikini, but lately, since his last period, he had been less self-conscious about his new body. He wasn’t completely comfortable yet, but he was getting used to his own reflection, and the sight of his boobs bulging beneath his tops.

Keith wandered over to the others and as he approached, Jerrud gave him an approving look. "Very nice. That suit looks good on you," he remarked casually, but with an intense look in his deep blue eyes that made Keith blush.

"Th…thanks," he replied tentatively, forcing himself to look away from Jerrud’s intense gaze.

Keith accepted a soft drink and two of the popular dune berries from Jerrud, and then followed his tall friend over to a small group that consisted of most of the guys from Jerrud and Kelli’s basketball team and some girls they knew. Keith remained at Jerrud’s side as Jerrud joined in the conversation, but he hung back a bit and listened without really joining in. The males were excitedly planning the organization of their team while the girls remained passively silent. When the question of where they could get uniforms came up, Marilyn Burns, a girl who was with Jerrud’s friend Pete Armstrong, offered to make them. "I used to make a lot of things for my kids -- back on Earth," she explained, and Keith remembered that she was one of the colonists who had been age regressed. Marilyn had been a 45 year-old married woman with three kids before being transformed into a perky 16 year old brunette with a pixie-like face.

"That would be great, Hon," Pete exclaimed, slipping an arm around her waist and giving her a hug. "I think that about covers everything we need."

"Not quite," Joy Taylor contradicted. "You guys need a cheerleading squad."

"Huh?" Dave Mitchell blurted out.

"You heard me," Joy replied. "I was cheerleader at my high school back on Earth, and it was a lot of fun. I’d like to do it again here."

"Well, that’s nice, Joy, but I don’t think there are enough girls who would want to --"

"We only need three or four, maybe five, to put a quad together," Joy interrupted before Jerrud could finish. "And we have enough girls right here," she added, nodding to Marilyn, Keith, and Wendy Slater, who was with Kelli. "Heck, we girls don’t have many chances to do anything, and cheering is a good way to stay fit."

"I don’t know . . . " Keith said, shaking his head doubtfully. "I don’t know a thing about cheerleading, and --"

"It’s easy. I can teach you everything you need to know," Joy said, cutting him off. "You come to the games anyway, you might as well get involved."

"I think it would be great if you decided to do it," Jerrud said, looking down at Keith.

"Why don’t you try it and see how you like it?" Kelli suggested. "If you really hate it, you don’t have to continue."

"I’ll give it a shot," Marilyn piped up. "It’s been a few years for me, but I used to cheer too."

"I never cheered before, but then I didn’t have a figure like this," Amy Linde spoke up, gesturing to herself. "I’d like to try it."

Keith could see that all the girls wanted to do it, and if he backed out, he would be seen as odd or "different," so he nodded his head. "Okay, I’ll try it," he agreed, wondering what had just gotten himself into.

After that, the conversation seemed to separate, with the girls congregating around Joy, and the guys a few feet away. Keith had seen this happen on many occasions, but this was the first time he found himself with the females, and he mostly listened as Joy discussed practices and various routines she thought they could do, and Marilyn talked about making cheerleading uniforms along with the guys’ basketball uniforms. He discovered that Amy’s remark about her figure had been rather tongue in cheek -- she was another M/F transie -- but she had adapted pretty well and was curious about what it was like to be a cheerleader.

Whenever Keith expressed any doubts about his ability to do the routines, the others became very encouraging and supportive, and after a time he began to believe he could actually pull it off without making a complete fool of himself. Of course, it would take a lot of practice, but as Joy and Marilyn talked about their experiences, he began to think that even practicing might be fun. Joy compared practice to a good aerobic workout, and Keith was quite aware he had done nothing "physical" since emerging from the cryo-module as a female. Maybe it was time he "worked out" a little.

Keith was so absorbed in the conversation that he didn’t notice Jerrud come over and stand next to him until Jerrud handed him another drink.

"Thanks," he said, smiling up at his friend.

"So, what do you think? Are you going to give cheering a try?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think so. I’ll probably make an ass of myself, but I guess I won’t know for sure unless I try it. Besides, I could do with the exercise."

"Maybe, but you look pretty good to me," Jerrud replied, and his words had the strangest effect on Keith.

For some reason, Keith couldn’t understand why his pulse quickened and his breath caught for an instant. He hadn’t been aware that he was searching for approval, but suddenly Jerrud’s acceptance seemed very important, and he needed to hear more.

"Do you really think so?" Keith asked shyly.

"Sure," Jerrud responded quickly. "I know the change has been hard on you, but at least you came out of it looking great. Back on Earth, I always thought Kelli was one of the prettiest girls I ever met, and now you are."

A smile came unbidden to Keith’s face, and he felt a strange warmth in the pit of his stomach. The reaction was completely unexpected, and for the life of him he didn’t understand why a few words could affect him so, but there was no denying the fact that he was pleased by Jerrud’s comments.

Keith looked away and ran a hand through his hair self-consciously. "I, ah, thanks," he managed, struggling to come up with an appropriate response. "You’ve been a good friend. You’ve helped me get through it."

Jerrud looked at him with an unreadable expression, and an eternity passed as Keith waited for his friend to say something. When he finally did, it was completely unexpected.

"I’m glad I’ve been able to help. I really care about you," Jerrud said softly and with surprising emotion.

The impact of those few words was incredible, and Keith was overwhelmed by his own physical response. His throat was suddenly dry, and his face felt flush from the pounding of his heart. He was lightheaded, and he swayed a little as the full impact hit him.

Jerrud reached out to steady Keith and wrapped his arm around the new girl’s waist. "Lets go sit down by the trees," he suggested, and Keith nodded, unable to speak.

Jerrud led Keith away from others, towards the small grove of trees at the windward edge of the dune, and Keith followed docilely. Jerrud’s arm gave him a sense of security, and it felt surprisingly natural to Keith. Though he was mystified by his emotions, he wasn’t interested in deep, philosophical questions at the moment, and was perfectly content to go off with Jerrud -- anywhere he wanted to go.

Most of the gang had left by the time Jerrud steered Keith past the fire pit, and Jerrud snagged a couple of drinks and a handful of dune berries for them as they continued on to the edge of the dune. Edison was suspended over the ocean, its slight orange tint bathing the water and turning the sand almost golden as Jerrud maneuvered Keith through the tangle of exposed roots to the windswept hollow where Keith had left his clothes. They sat down and Keith hugged his legs while Jerrud opened two drink cartons and crushed a few berries in each.

"Here you go," Jerrud said as he handed one of the drinks to Keith, and Keith smiled up at him gratefully.

"Thanks," he replied as he accepted the drink and took a sip. The pungent taste of the dune berries was slightly bitter, but Keith was accustomed to the taste, and he rather enjoyed the light buzz they gave him.

Jerrud sat down next to Keith and looked over at the pretty girl. "Are you okay now? You were a little shaky back there," he remarked.

Keith nodded his head. "I’m okay now," he assured Jerrud. "I was just a little . . . surprised by what you said."

"Why should that surprise you?

"Well, we were buddies back on Earth, and now . . . everything’s so different. It’s kinda awkward -- between us," Keith replied, struggling with his answer.

Jerrud set his drink down and turned Keith’s shoulders gently, so they were facing each other. "Look, Keith, this will probably sound incredibly weird, but one of the reasons I do care about you is because we were friends before all of this happened. I’m attracted to most girls because of their looks. It’s natural, I guess, but it’s just a physical thing. With you it’s different. We like the same things, and I’ve always enjoyed hanging out with you. It’s just nicer now."

"Nicer?" Keith asked.

"Yeah, because you’re so incredibly pretty," Jerrud said softly.

"Do you really think I’m pretty?" Keith asked, feeling the odd sensations rising within him again.

Jerrud didn’t reply. Instead he reached behind Keith, pulled him close and kissed him softly.

Keith was taken completely by surprise, and a brief moment of terror flooded his consciousness, but then the alien feelings he was experiencing seemed to override everything, and he found himself returning Jerrud’s kiss. Somehow his arms found their way around Jerrud’s waist, and Keith’s mind went blank when Jerrud ran his fingers through his hair. A burning passion that had been hidden just below the surface of Keith’s consciousness roared to life like an unquenchable fire. Keith made soft keening sounds as Jerrud kissed the base of his neck, and he clung to Jerrud’s waist as he felt himself being lowered gently to the sand.

The sand still felt warm against his back, but Keith barely noticed. He felt Jerrud’s kisses moving gradually lower, and then Jerrud began caressing his partially exposed breasts. Keith moaned softly and felt his nipples harden and expand in response to Jerrud’s touch. He stared up at his partner, but Jerrud’s face was shaded; silhouetted by the glow of Edison. Keith’s hands began exploring Jerrud’s marvelous, muscular frame of their own accord, and when Jerrud slipped one hand beneath his lycra top and began to massage his breast the unquenchable fire became a conflagration, and Keith closed his eyes and surrendered to his passion.

Keith lifted one shoulder, then the other when Jerrud eased the straps of his bikini top off his shoulders to completely expose his breasts, and when Jerrud bent low and kissed his nipples, Keith moaned again, unaware that his back was arched and his legs had parted. Off in the distance, he heard soft moaning sounds, not knowing -- or caring -- that he was the source, and when Jerrud slid a hand beneath him to free the clasp that held his top, Keith arched his back further to allow him access to the clasp.

"You’re so incredibly beautiful," Jerrud whispered as he gently stroked the side of Keith’s face.

Keith gasped as Jerrud’s fingers toyed with his nipples, and his keening sounds took on a special urgency as he felt himself growing very moist. When Jerrud grasped the sides of his bikini bottom and began to ease it down, Keith shifted his weight compliantly, eager to assist in his own unveiling. His burning desire had banished any second thoughts he may have had -- he wanted, needed, Jerrud to take him. Nothing else mattered.

Jerrud rose from the sand and stood above Keith for a moment, gazing down, and Keith looked up at the towering figure. Jerrud’s lean, muscular form was outlined against the dual moons of that strange, wonderful world, and Keith was convinced he’s never seen anything quite so perfect. When Jerrud lowered himself between Keith’s open legs, Keith caught the strong masculine scent of his partner, and a moment later he felt Jerrud’s hard body pinning his soft, feminine form against the dune.

There was no going back now, Keith realized, but then he didn’t want to stop. When he felt Jerrud’s rock hard phallus probe the gateway of his womb, Keith gasped and shivered slightly, but Jerrud’s voice was soothing, reassuring, and the panic quickly subsided. He was breathing heavily, and his pulse was racing. Excitement and terror dueled for supremacy, yet he was no longer in control. He had surrendered any vestige of power when he allowed Jerrud to remove the tiny bits of fabric he had worn for the first time. Now Jerrud was in control.

Keith gasped when he felt Jerrud enter him, and the first, tentative probe was followed by a deeper, harder thrust. A brief moment of pain confused the new female, but it passed quickly and Keith felt the dampness within himself easing the way for Jerrud’s stud. With each thrust, Jerrud drove deeper and harder, and it seemed to Keith that Jerrud was actually growing larger as he continued. Keith spread his legs a bit more to allow Jerrud perfect access, and he felt his hips begin to move in rhythm with Jerrud’s thrusts.

A sudden pulsing shock struck Keith without warning, and he moaned and threw his arms around Jerrud’s neck. His legs wrapped themselves around his masculine partner, and his pelvis began pushing upwards to meet Jerrud’s thrusts. When the second contraction shook him, Keith cried out, and then he was struck by a succession of quakes that sent him over the edge. Keith exploded in a series of orgasms that penetrated to his very core and robbed him of the power of coherent thought. He screamed out for Jerrud to keep going and not stop, and Jerrud did. Keith felt a mighty thrust and a gush of fluid that seemed to fill him to the brim, and this time, there were fireworks that rivaled any volcanic eruption he had ever seen.

When it was finally over, Keith was practically senseless, yet he continued to clutch Jerrud tightly. He was dazed, yet he felt absolutely wonderful -- completely fulfilled -- and even when he felt Jerrud begin to subside, Keith reveled in the sensation of Jerrud’s hard chest against his own soft breasts. As conscious thought returned, Keith marveled at how perfectly their forms came together, the wonderful symmetry of male and female, aggressor and receiver, combining in an absolute union of body and spirit -- and the spiritual union was just as important as the physical, he realized.

Jerrud finally rolled off him, but he pulled his female companion close and held Keith with a protective arm. Keith welcomed the embrace, and snuggled against Jerrud. He realized that he had been well and truly laid by his best friend, but he saw it as much more than a physical union. He could have never done this with anyone else, but Jerrud was . . . wonderful.

____________________

Dr. Allen Goethe listened intently to the cleric who sat across the table as he reported on his work with some of the colonists who had gone into catatonic shock upon discovering themselves in the wrong bodies. It was a truly humbling experience for Allen who, despite all his training and experience, had encountered mixed success in his own efforts to cure the psychologically devastated victims. Father Sean Callaghan was a simple priest from a small rural parish, and the only one of the 2,000 colonists who had actually volunteered to come on this expedition, and he had done remarkably well helping those who Allen thought were beyond all hope.

It was even more remarkable in that Father Callaghan had been hit as hard as any of them by the foul-up in the PC routing program. The Catholic priest now occupied the body of a 22 year-old female, and was now technically ineligible to perform the duties of a Catholic priest. The sight of a young woman wearing a Roman collar was incongruous, to say the least, but Father Callaghan had taken his transformation in stride. When one of his parishioners pointed out that women were forbidden to be priests, he had simply pointed out that he was the only priest on the planet and, like it or not, his flock was stuck with him, or her. He put it all down to God’s will and had helped out wherever he could right from the start.

Allen Goethe couldn’t care less about Father Callaghan’s gender -- he was a Lutheran himself -- but the former man seemed to have knack for armchair psychology, and he had helped no less than 6 patients rejoin the human race.

The other report Allen had heard that day, from Fran Johnson, had been equally encouraging, though mystifying to the learned doctor. Fran was the elementary school teacher tasked to work with the age-progressed colonists -- the kids who found themselves in adult bodies -- and she had informed Allen that, almost without exception, the adult sized kids were learning at a very fast pace. Fran hadn’t been able to estimate precisely, but she guessed that the children in adult forms were absorbing classroom material at two to three times the normal rate for kids of their mental ages.

Al hadn’t figured that out either, but his off-the-cuff theory was that the mature adult brains the children possessed were able to grasp abstract concepts more easily than a child’s smaller, less mature brain. There was just nothing to go on, and Al was flying blind, but he knew enough to be grateful for the good news and not try to analyze everything. "A guy could wind up talking to himself ," he muttered as he closed his notebook and thanked Father Callaghan and Fran Johnson for all their help.

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

Unfortunately, the age-regressed colonists had no such mental awakening, and the skills and expertise of dozens of key people were still denied to the colony. Larry Taylor sat in his new, permanent office and leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. Of course one person was the key to all of their problems, and if they could just retrieve Jeff Ellis’ memories, everything would fall into place. Jeff held the key to the routing program, and if only . . .

"You look like you could use a break," a voice from the doorway said, breaking in on Larry’s thoughts.

He snapped upright in his chair and turned to see the former Dan McNeil standing near the open door, looking pretty as a picture.

"You’re right about that. I was just dreaming of how easy my life would be if we could just restore Jeff’s memory," Larry admitted sheepishly. "I’m just spinning my wheels here."

"Those sixteen hour days will get you every time," his visitor observed in "her" delightfully sweet, feminine voice. "How about taking a break? I’ll buy you a drink at your favorite bar."

Larry glanced down at the work on his desk and was about to say he couldn’t possibly break away, but then he realized he’s been saying the same thing for over six weeks. "Sounds good," he replied, "except it’s my treat."

"But I asked you."

"Call it a reward for breaking me out of prison," Larry told the stunning beauty, who smiled in reply.

"Okay, boss," the woman cooed, and Larry was struck by how much "Danielle" had changed recently. The newest "Professor" in their higher education system was wearing a white linen skirt suit, with taylar stockings and white mid heel pumps that exhibited her fantastic legs. A pink sleeveless shell top peeked out from beneath her tailored jacket, and a simple gold necklace and gold watch were all the jewelry she needed. Her hair was perfectly coifed, and her make up was absolutely flawless, though Larry wasn’t sure that the latter was due to her skill with cosmetics or her natural beauty.

But it was far more than a physical change. "Danielle" was no longer the semi-suicidal victim she once was; her attitude had changed 180 degrees, due in large part to the efforts of Karen Ellis and her own children. The new job had helped too, and Larry kicked himself mentally for not thinking of it sooner.

Larry’s favorite bar was the only bar in the colony, a family run operation that had begun just 2 weeks before, which served drinks that were concocted with the neutral grain spirits the colonists had brought with them, together with some proprietary flavoring designed to make the alcohol taste like scotch, bourbon or vodka. As of yet, there was no beer or wine available.

Larry took Danielle’s arm (it seemed like the natural thing to do, and she did not object) and escorted her out the door towards the Colonial Inn. It was a pleasant walk, and Larry noted surreptitiously that his companion carried herself with a natural feminine grace, and seemed to have no problems walking in her heels. She also seemed quite at home in a skirt -- another marked change from the first few days after the landing -- and appeared quite comfortable with herself.

"So, how do you like teaching?" Larry asked as they made their way along the new plasticrete sidewalk.

"I love it," Danielle replied enthusiastically. "I get a chance to work in my field without all the dirty, physically demands of field work. I was always a ‘hands on’ type of guy, but I don’t really miss that part of it. The theoretical work is fun too, and I’ve found teaching is a good way to keep myself sharp."

Larry nodded. "You’re contributing a lot more to the colony now than when you were helping me out," he noted. "We have to train the next generation of doctors, engineers, teachers, and other professionals if we’re going to survive as a race."

"Well, I’ve had a lot of help adjusting to my, ah, circumstances," Danielle noted. "I’ve finally realized that I was denying the changes -- trying to carry on as if everything was the same -- and of course nothing is."

Larry nodded. "Acceptance is the key, and with major changes in age or gender the older colonists have had a much harder time trying to adapt. You were one of the oldest, and both hit you. All things considered, I think you’ve done wonderfully."

"Thanks Larry, but I’ve been very lucky. Without Karen and the kids, I probably would have jumped off a cliff, after . . ."

"Yeah," Larry replied, realizing Danielle was referring to her public humiliation at the hands of her former wife. "That’s another thing most of the transies didn’t have to deal with," he told his companion. "You’re a stronger ma -- er, person for having dealt with that too."

Danielle grinned up at him as they entered the Colonial Inn, and Larry chuckled when she put a little extra swing into her hips as he held the door for her. He guessed it was the former man’s way of reminding him that she was a woman now -- as if he really needed the reminder. The former middle-aged male engineer had been transformed into the hottest babe in the colony, in his humble opinion, yet she had retained her knowledge and experience, and had even managed to discover an additional skill -- teaching. Considering all she had been through, and the reactions of other colonists who been affected far less by the transformations, Larry considered Danielle a formidable woman.

The Colonial Inn occupied one of the "temporary" structures, but the inside partitions had been removed, for the most part, leaving a cozy little pub that sported a nautical decor which was a bit thin yet, but shaping up nicely. Larry ordered two "scotches" for them, and they made their way to a table in a corner that had a nice view of the ocean, which was visible between the steep hills that formed their little valley.

 

Danielle’s eyes flashed her "thanks" when Larry held her chair for her, and she settled into her seat with a practiced ease that surprised the President. One of the things that intrigued him about his companion was that she wasn’t simply "acting" like a woman, unlike some of the other transies. Danielle had truly become a woman, and a lady at that, and had shed her old crusty male personality completely. Her posture, gestures, mannerisms -- even her speech patterns -- had become completely feminine, and sometimes Larry had a hard time remembering she had actually been a man.

"I can’t believe how well things have been going the past couple of days," he remarked as Danielle shrugged out of her jacket, revealing her centerfold-class figure. "I think we’re actually going to survive."

"I don’t think there was ever any doubt of that," Danielle replied. "There was enough redundancy built into the plan to survive just about anything," she added, revealing a bit of her engineering background.

"Yeah, but we never counted on this."

"How could we? There was no way to plan for it, but the physical needs were covered, and you’ve done a magnificent job. I don’t think anyone else could have pulled everything together, drafted an entirely new plan, and made it work," Danielle told him.

Larry shook his head. "No, it wasn’t me. I just coordinated. The real heroes are the people who stepped up and pitched in wherever they were needed, doing jobs they had never done before -- and doing them well."

"Lots of people helped," Danielle agreed, "but it would have been complete chaos without strong leadership. I was a basket case, and so were many others."

"You did damned well for a basket case," Larry pointed out. "You helped me a lot in those first few days while others did nothing. Look, I don’t want to argue with you. Sure, I played a part in our recovery -- and we’re not completely out of the woods yet -- but lots of people chipped in and performed above and beyond the call of duty to get us where we are today."

"And where are we?" Danielle asked.

"We’re far enough along that we’ll definitely have food to eat next year," he responded. "We’ve all got roofs over our head, water, electricity, communications, a private cash economy, and the resources of an entire planet. Most of us are working in some useful job, our kids are back in school, and . . . we even have a bar," he finished, raising his glass.

"I’ll drink to that," Danielle replied with a smile, and Larry clinked his glass against hers.

"I’ve been toying with the idea of having a celebration dance to sort of mark our progress," he confided after finishing his drink.

"Why don’t you just declare a national holiday?" Danielle asked, and Larry grew thoughtful.

"That’s a great idea. A sort of ‘Day of Thanksgiving,’ like back on Earth," he added.

"Yeah, except this day would be uniquely ours; a first step in establishing our own culture," Danielle noted.

"I like it," Larry replied, "and it’s about time we all took a break and had a party."

"Do we have anything resembling fireworks?" Danielle asked.

"I don’t know, but I’m sure we can come up with something," Larry told her.

"Good. How about a festival during the day, and a dance and fireworks in the evening?"

"I think I just found my festival coordinator," Larry said with a wide grin.

"That’ll teach me to keep my big mouth shut," Danielle remarked, but her smile belied her words.

"Oh, there’s one other thing I’d like you to do for me too, but this is completely optional," Larry told her.

"Oh, and what is that?" Danielle asked.

"Come to the dance with me," Larry replied.

____________________

Linda McNeil had always been a girl, and the malfunction of the routing program hadn’t hurt her too much. She had wound up in the body of a twelve year old girl who, thankfully, had just begun puberty. So her mind was intact, though her new, smaller frame had been a bit odd at first. Her main problem was boys of her own "mental" age wanted nothing to do with a twelve year old, and boys of her physical age were so pathetically immature. She just didn’t seem to fit in anywhere.

In school, she was too advanced for the others of her own physical age, so she had been placed with older students, and was virtually ignored from a social standpoint. When it came to work, there were no jobs for a twelve year old, so she was forced to baby-sit and do chores for spending money.

At the moment, she was helping "Jeffy" Ellis get dressed so they could walk over to the school and get "Dani," her erstwhile older brother, who was now a five year old girl, and "Vic," Dani’s former wife, who was now a six year old boy. Jeffy was in the pre-school program, but he only attended the half day sessions due to his age, and Karen, Jeffy’s former spouse, now "mother," was needed at the clinic and couldn’t care for him during the day. Since Danielle, her feminized father, was teaching today, Linda was in charge of getting the kids from school.

Dani was the first out the door when school let out, and Linda was waiting with Jeffy when her small, feminized brother came skipping out the door, carrying a large drawing of a Picasso-like dog. The little girl was wearing a pair of mint green shorts, a white knit top, and a pair of tiny, pink and white athletic shoes with velcro fasteners.

"Billy pulled my hair and pushed me," the small ex-male announced in a tattletale voice, "but Vic hit him and made his nose bleed," he added. "Look what I painted," he said, shifting gears rapidly, holding up the painting.

"That’s very nice," Linda told him, pretending to examine the picture critically. "Where’s Vic?" she asked.

"Oh, he had to see Mrs. Winthrop, cause Billy was cryin,’ " Dani explained.

"Okay, let’s go to Mrs. Winthrop’s office and see if Vic is there," Linda said, taking her brother’s small hand.

Linda was constantly amazed at the bond that existed between Dani and Vic, even though neither had any memories of being married, or that their genders were reversed. This was just the latest instance where Vic had defended her former husband against one of the juvenile bullies that inhabited all elementary schools, and for his part, Dani followed Vic around like a faithful sidekick and always saved some of his treats for her. Dani constantly told her of Vic’s exploits, and there was more than a little hero worship in his voice when he referred to his former wife.

They found Vic sitting in the principal’s outer office, and the former beauty queen finalist had a belligerent expression on her youthful, masculine face. Her arms were folded across her chest, and her legs swung back and forth as she listened to Mrs. Winthrop relate the punching incident to Linda, along with a request that Linda’s "mother" call her about Vic’s behavior. Linda promised she would pass the information along, and took Vic’s hand to lead her out of the office, but she shook loose and took Dani’s hand instead, and her former husband gave her a sweet, shy smile and let her lead the way out the door.

____________________

Denise McNeil cradled the newborn baby in her arms and gazed down in wonder. It was a little girl, not yet 20 minutes old, and she was the most beautiful creature the former teenage boy had ever seen. Denise had taken the baby from Dr. Willis after she delivered the newborn, and the student nurse had cleaned the little girl, weighed and measured her, and affixed a little pink plastic bracelet to her tiny wrist. Unlike the movies Denise had seen, the tiny babe did not cry, but made little cooing sounds as Denise cleaned her, and as she swabbed the baby, Denise noticed her color turning from a sick purple to a bright pink.

The student nurse laid the baby next to her mother, and the weary new mom strained to turn herself enough to see her new daughter. Tears came to her eyes as she saw her daughter’s face for the first time, and she cradled her precious prize to herself and sobbed uncontrollably, despite the gentle touch and encouraging words of her husband.

Denise turned away from that private, family scene and lowered her surgical mask as she exited the room. She was so very tired after attending to the mother during her labor, then assisting with the birth. The parents of the child were both transies, and had the distinction of being the only married couple in the colony to exchange places with each other. The wife had been a little over seven months pregnant when they left Earth and it had been quite a shock for the husband to awaken in his wife’s gravid body. But they, like a few other couples, had managed to cling to sanity, and now the fruit of their love had taken tangible form.

The young nurse fell into a seat at the picnic table just outside the back of the clinic and slumped over the table wearily. She thought of the happy couple with their newborn infant, and she wondered what it would be like to give birth. The thought of becoming pregnant no longer terrified her, not like it had when she first realized that the failure of the routing program had turned her into an egg carrier, and in fact she had become more than a little fascinated by the idea. Since her last period, she had even begun to fantasize about being married to Ken and having his babies.

She had no idea why she was suddenly dwelling on the idea of being a mother, but she wasn’t consciously considering it; it just seemed to pop into her head. Perhaps it was because she had helped deliver several babies lately, or maybe it was just her new hormones, or something like that, but either way, Denise couldn’t deny that she was thinking about it quite a bit.

In truth, her obsession for Kerina was fueling her fixation with pregnancy. Denise had been in love with her rescuer ever since that day at the beach when Kerina had made love to her; perhaps even before that. "Ken" was constantly on her mind, from her first waking moment to the time she closed her eyes at night, and she was only happy when she was with him. At other times, she almost felt "dormant," waiting for him to return so she could be truly alive. She knew it was silly, of course, but she just could not help the way she felt, and she had already discovered that her feelings were so much stronger now that she was a girl. But, silly or not, it was very real to her, and that was why she was so depressed about "Ken" joining the Explorer Corps. The thought of him being gone for weeks, perhaps months at a time, reduced her to tears.

"I thought you had a date with Ken tonight," Karen’s voice came from behind Denise, startling her.

"Oh, hi. Yeah I did, but that baby had different plans," Denise said over her shoulder with a tired grin.

"Well, she’s being fed now, and it’s long passed the time you should have left," Karen told her star (and only) pupil.

"But, they might need me --"

"Denise, you have to learn to balance the needs of your patients with your own physical needs. If you don’t take care of yourself, how will you be able to care for others? You can’t allow yourself to burn out or get so tired you make mistakes. We can’t afford mistakes in our profession. When we screw up, people can be hurt very badly."

"I know," Denise replied, properly chastised.

"Good. Now go home and change and go find Ken and have a good time tonight. That’s an order," Karen said sternly.

"Yes ma’am," the student nurse replied dutifully, giving her teacher/friend/mentor a parody of a salute as she stood.

"That’s more like it. It’s about time you started to show the proper respect," Karen smirked, and Denise laughed and waved as she headed home.

When Denise got home, she saw a note from Danielle telling her that "Ken" had stopped by, and would return around nine o’clock to see if she wanted to go out. Denise looked at her watch -- it was already 8:15 -- and realized she would have to hurry if she wanted to be ready. She ran into her room, her exhaustion completely forgotten, and began shedding clothes as she opened the closet door and examined what she had to wear. As she shimmied out of her white nurse’s uniform dress and hung it up, it occurred to her that she didn’t know what Ken had in mind. She had to be ready for just about anything so she decided on a casual skirt and top combination, low heels -- and a quick shower.

Tucking her long hair under a shower cap to keep it dry was second nature to the new girl now. She wished she had time to wash it too, but that was not to be, so she moved quickly. When she finished, she hurried back to her room and squirmed into a pair of lacy, high-cut panties, then expertly settled herself into a matching, underwire bra. She pulled on a pair of tan taylar hose then stepped into her short floral print skirt. She pushed her arms and head through a white knit top, straightened her clothing and slipped her feet into a pair of white, heeled sandals, practically in one motion.

Denise sat at her makeshift dressing table and pulled her hair from her top and began trying to give it a semblance of body and style. It would have been better if her hair was freshly washed, but she did a satisfactory job of styling it, and quickly applied a minimum amount of make up.

____________________

"Ken" looked handsome in his navy polo shirt and khaki slacks, and Denise grinned at him as they left the house and started walking towards one of the two restaurants the colony now boasted. She took his proffered arm and felt the hardness of his muscles as they strolled leisurely, talking about everything and nothing. Denise noticed that Ken appeared to be a little distracted, but he was also obviously very happy to see her, so she dismissed his preoccupation as nothing important, but once they were seated, she learned she was terribly wrong.

"I have some news," Ken said after the waitress had taken their orders and left each a cup of pseudo-coffee. When Denise looked at him curiously over the rim of her cup, the former female plunged on.

"Actually, it’s two pieces of news," he explained, temporizing.

"Well?"

"Well, I’ve been promoted," Ken said with a slight smile. "I’m a lieutenant now, and a unit commander."

Denise smiled prettily for his benefit, though she wasn’t very enthusiastic about the news. "That’s great, Ken," she commented, touching his arm for emphasis. She was at once disappointed and proud; disappointed because she secretly hoped he would quit the Explorer Corps and try his hand at something that didn’t require him to be gone for such long periods of time, but proud that "her guy" had what it took to be a leader.

"Thanks," the re-cast female acknowledged, trying without success to suppress a smile. He had worked long and hard to acquire the skills and strength needed to do the job he was called upon to perform, and he was rightfully proud of his accomplishments. He wished he didn’t have to tell her the rest of the news.

"But the other piece of news is that our first expedition has been moved up -- rescheduled for 16 days from today."

Denise suddenly felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach, and the expression on her face was instantly transformed.

"What?" She practically gasped. "Why?"

"I guess someone wants to take advantage of the rainy season. Apparently the biologists believe there are certain plants that could prove useful which only grow during our local monsoons," Ken replied, unable to provide her with a better answer. "But, on the bright side it will only be for a month," he added lamely.

"A whole month?" Denise nearly wailed, and tears came to her eyes as she considered a long, lonely month without Ken.

"Why can’t they send someone else," she demanded, wiping away tears without regard to her make up.

"Well, we only have two units ready and they’re both being used for this trip. Since it’s the first time out away from the colony, they want the extra security of two units, in case something happens to one of them," he explained, but it failed to mollify the girl sitting with him.

"So, that’s it. You’ll be gone for a month -- maybe longer."

Ken nodded. "I’m afraid so, but I’m having a hard time with it too, especially since I haven’t been feeling that well lately," he disclosed.

"What’s wrong -- You’re not having a relapse, are you," Denise asked, moving closer so she could take his pulse. Instead, Ken gripped her hand and held it tightly. "No, at least I don’t think so," he replied. "In a way it’s worse, because I don’t think there’s any cure for what ails me."

"What are you talking about?" Denise asked, puzzled by the enigmatic smile on Ken’s face.

"What I’m talking about," he explained, "is how I feel whenever we’re not together. I miss you so much I can’t stand it. I mope around, stumble over things, and generally feel terrible anytime I’m not with you," he added.

"You sure picked a strange occupation if that’s how you feel," Denise returned grumpily.

"I guess I did," Ken admitted, "but it’s important to the future of the colony, and besides, just think what the homecomings could be like -- If we were married, that is."

"Married?" Denise repeated in a small voice.

"Yeah," Ken replied, as he rose from his chair and reached into his pocket as he got down on one knee, right in the restaurant, in front of all those people. "Denise, I love you with all my heart and soul. Will you marry me?"

Before Denise could answer, Ken produced an engagement ring and held it near the third finger of her left hand as he waited for her response. Denise felt light headed and her mind reeled as she struggled to comprehend what was happening. Suddenly, without any warning, tears came to her eyes. They began at the corners of her pretty eyes, and as she tried to blink them away, they became a torrent. Denise sobbed as all her pent up emotions burst forth, and she threw her arms around Ken’s neck, vaguely aware that her left hand now displayed a diamond engagement ring. She was oblivious to the fact that everyone in the restaurant was staring at them until she heard the spontaneous applause that burst forth from the other patrons.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

 

The place was a madhouse, and Danielle was very grateful Karen had offered to come over and help with the preparations. The former engineer had not enjoyed a moment of peace since his now-oldest daughter had announced her engagement to Kenneth Mills, and the fact that they decided to get married at the Thanksgiving Day celebration, which Danielle was tasked with organizing, only made things worse.

Linda, who was one of the bridesmaids, was helping Dani get dressed in an adorable little yellow dress they found for her at the clothing exchange, while Danielle was helping Denise with her "wedding dress." It wasn’t a real wedding dress -- there were none in the colony and there had been no time to have one made -- but it was a short, white party dress, and they had managed to find the bride a pair of white high heels that fit her. Her veil was actually made from a lace tablecloth, and her corsage was a bundle of native wild flowers that Vic had picked for her.

Denise had asked Karen to be her Matron of Honor, and Karen had provided the feminine expertise needed to make the whole event come off. She had coordinated the outfits of the bridesmaids, arranged for a cake, helped with the wedding dress, and held planning sessions to inform all the participants of what would happen and what their individual roles were. She had even acted as a go-between with Pat to obtain her cooperation. If it weren’t for Karen, Danielle would have gone crazy.

The bridesmaids, Karen, Linda, and Keith, would all be in yellow dresses, though they weren’t identical by any means, and the groomsmen would all be wearing blue blazers and tan slacks. It was the best they could do on such short notice, and it had been a miracle Karen had been able to find things that fit. Half of the outfits were borrowed, and most of the rest had been purchased at the clothing exchange. Even Vic, who was to be the ring bearer, would be in a white shirt and tie. The Best Man was Clay Hunter, one of Ken’s friends from the Explorer Corps, and the groomsmen were Kyle and Jerrud Sadler, who Keith had enlisted to help.

Danielle helped Denise slip the pure white dress over her head without ruining her hair, and she made sure the dress hung properly in back. It had a rather short skirt, and Danielle saw it covered the tops of Denise’s stockings, but not by much. The blue garter she wore on her right leg, just above the lacy tops of her white taylar stockings, would be visible when she sat down if she wasn’t careful, and trying to conceal the tops of the stockings themselves was a hopeless cause, but Denise looked so beautiful not even Danielle would outshine her on her wedding day.

The "mother" of the bride spent several minutes carefully pinning Denise’s veil to her hair, and after attaching a small gold locket that hung just above her daughter’s cleavage Danielle pronounced her ready to go. Denise slipped her feet into the white satin pumps and hugged her parent before picking up her colorful bouquet and heading out to greet the others.

By the time the duo emerged from Denise’s room, the other girls were waiting in the living room. All of the bridesmaids, and even Dani, were in similar yellow dresses, and the sight was quite impressive considering the colony was living on the knife’s edge of survival. Karen oohed and ahhed over Denise, and Linda admired the gorgeous dress. Keith giggled a bit over the amount of cleavage Denise was displaying, but Karen hushed the former boy, telling him it was perfectly natural for a bride to look sexy and desirable on her wedding day, if for no other reason than to show the other men what they missed out on, and to boost her husband’s prestige among his peers. Linda thought the dress was just a bit too sexy, but she realized that Denise didn’t have much choice, and Danielle had managed to add a few touches here and there that really looked pretty.

The wedding was to be held on the Village Green, a park-like area near the "White House," and after the ceremonies, the wedding party and guests would head over to the Community Center and join in the Thanksgiving Day celebrations. Since they didn’t have a vehicle, and there was no "public transportation," the women, with Vic in tow, strolled the few blocks to the wedding site. They made quite a sight, too. The beautiful, buxom bride in a short, revealing dress and high heeled pumps, her gorgeous "mother," who was almost the same physical age, in a sexy, baby blue dress with matching heels, Karen, Keith and Linda, all in yellow, Dani, looking cute as a button in her own little yellow dress, and Vic, the lone male, wearing a white shirt and clip-on tie.

____________________

Denise had never been so nervous in her life. She knew all brides were a little nervous, but for her it was much worse. She had only been a girl for two short months after 18 years of life as a male, and here she was about to marry a guy who used to be a girl. It was insane when she stopped to think about it, yet it also felt "right" too. Her life had changed completely in the brief time they’d been on New America, and she loved "Ken" so much it hurt sometimes. Despite her history, despite her masculine upbringing, despite everything, she was willing to become Ken’s wife and love him as much or more than any other woman could. She would willingly have his babies and care for them the way his own mother once cared for her.

Ironically, her mother would be the one giving her away today, and that was Denise’s way of trying to mend the horrible rift that had split their family. She considered whether "Dennis" would have done the same and concluded that her old, masculine self would have told her masculinized mother to drop dead, after what "Pat" had done to her dad. But Denise didn’t react like Dennis, not completely anyway. The female version of the McNeil’s second child was more attuned to the feelings of others, more emotional, and much more eager to find consensus and mend wounded feelings. She had refused to live with Pat after what he had done to Danielle, but she did not want to cut him completely out of her life, so she had asked him to give her away. It actually surprised her when he agreed, and even more so when he offered to let the new couple use his huge "mansion" on their wedding night.

The colonists had brought seeds for virtually every plant and flower that could be of any use on the new world, and many varieties of flowers had been planted on the Village Green, though most were still very immature. However, the addition of native flowers and greenery had transformed the once featureless area into a rainbow of color, interspersed with wide expanses of well-tended grassy areas. Stone paved paths wound through small packets of trees and around sculptured gardens that gave relief from the sun and pleasure to the eye. Occasionally, one found small benches tucked away in the trees or amidst the dazzling flowers, perfect for weary pedestrians or young lovers seeking privacy. The perfumed scents of innumerable flowers combined in a delightful fragrance that refreshed the colonists and seemed to attract the local version of butterflies, colorful four winged creatures that flitted from flower to flower and seemed to perform the pollination function on New America. A small brook wound its way through the park, and the bubbling water bounced around smooth rocks in its recessed bed as it wound its way to the river, and eventually the ocean.

It was a perfect location for a wedding, and the girls’ heels clicked prettily against the stone blocks of the walkway as they made their way to the site. The exact location Denise had chosen was on a small peninsula of land, formed by a loop in the creek, that was accessible by a hand made wooden bridge. As they made their way across the short bridge, they spotted an arch of flowers that had been constructed by some of Ken’s friends, and some folding chairs facing a makeshift altar. The guests were milling about talking and the groom and his coterie were off to one side awaiting the arrival of the bride, and when Ken saw Denise his jaw fell open and his friends almost had to restrain him from going over to her. Pat was there too, of course, dressed in a recently purchased navy blue suit, and Denise had to admit her former mother did look handsome.

Denise suddenly got a bad case of nerves when she realized everyone was staring at her, and Danielle could feel her trembling as she took her daughter’s arm and led her over to a location behind a small grove of trees that had been reserved for the ladies.

"Relax honey, everything looks beautiful, especially you, and this is going to be wonderful," Danielle told her daughter.

"I can’t help it," Denise whispered. "I . . . I just don’t know if I’m doing the right thing."

"Last minute doubts are normal," Karen said, coming up to them. "Every bride has them. When I married, Jeff I was so scared I nearly lost my breakfast," she confided with a smile. "Just take a deep breath and keep your eye on the prize," she added with a wink.

"Would you like to sit down for a minute, honey? Maybe I could get you a glass of water," Danielle offered.

"No, thanks. I’ll be okay in a minute," Denise replied, breathing deeply.

A light, fragrant breeze swirled her skirt and lifted her veil slightly, exposing both the tops of her stockings and her ashen face, and when Karen saw the expression Denise wore, she took her by the arm and led her behind the grove of trees. She opened her purse reached in, and produced a small flask. "Here, take a swig or two of this," she told the younger woman, handing her the flask.

"What is it?" Denise asked suspiciously.

"Booze, what else?" Karen laughed. "Think of it as part of the bride’s survival kit. Now, I may only be a nurse, but I prescribe two healthy slugs of that hooch. Go on, down the hatch," she ordered.

Denise eyed her warily, but raised the small bottle to her lips and tilted her head and swallowed a mouthful of the clear liquid. It scorched her throat a bit and when it hit her empty stomach, she felt immediate warmth spread through her. She repeated the process, and was about to take a third drink when Karen took the flask from her hand.

"That’s enough. A couple sips will calm you, but much more than that and you’ll feel light headed. It wouldn’t do to have a tipsy bride staggering around with booze on her breath," she admonished.

Denise felt better already, and she giggled at the thought of reciting her vows while under the influence. "Okay," she agreed. "We’d better get this show on the road before Ken thinks I’m having second thoughts."

____________________

When they emerged from the grove, Denise saw that everyone was ready for them. Ken, Clay, Jerrud and Kyle were waiting near the altar, while Keith and Linda waited expectantly near the trees. Little Dani and Vic would precede the women, and they looked so cute together that Denise made a note to have the photographer get a few pictures of them together.

Danielle was seated next to Larry in the front row of chairs, and Pat waited near the bridesmaids with a silly grin on his face. Father Callaghan waited near the altar in her vestments, with a young man she had recruited to act as a deacon, and when he saw Denise, he nodded to the sound technician, who began the recorded music. One by one, the girls stepped off and processed towards the front of the "church," and when it was Denise’s turn, she gripped Pat’s arm and let her former mother lead her down the aisle to the strains of the Wedding March from the "Marriage of Figaro."

Denise blushed as everyone turned to watch her, and she suddenly felt unsteady in her heels. She clamped down on her escort’s arm, and Pat placed one hand over hers to reassure her. Denise found that surprisingly comforting, and at the same time, she remembered Karen’s advice to keep her "eye on the prize." She gazed up the makeshift aisle at Ken, and when she saw the love reflected in her future husband’s eyes, she blushed again, but this time she smiled at him, a secret smile that was meant for him alone, and he beamed back at her and stood a bit taller.

The actual wedding was practically a blur to Denise. It seemed like she had no sooner made it to the front of the "church" than Ken was slipping her plain gold wedding band on her finger. She did remember the kiss though; a long, sensuous embrace symbolized their joining as one, and then the cheers of the guests and the hugs from her bridesmaids and Danielle. Everything seemed different to her now, yet nothing had really changed, she told herself. She and Ken were united as husband and wife, but that was only the social and legal manifestation of their love, which no ceremony could confer or deny.

After the guests had filtered off, Denise and Ken posed for pictures with the wedding party, Denise’s parents and Father Callaghan. Then, in a time honored tradition, the girls gathered together and Denise turned her back to them and tossed her bouquet over her shoulder. The flowers seemed to hang in mid-air for a moment before falling right into Keith’s hands. Finally, Denise placed one foot on a folding chair and Ken stooped down and slowly slid the blue garter off her silk-clad leg. He tossed it to the assembled males; it bobbled between them until it practically hit Larry in the face. Larry reached up in a reflex action and was almost surprised to find him holding the dainty elastic garter.

____________________

When Karen saw that her former son had caught the bouquet, she giggled, then dragged Denise away from her new husband for a moment to offer some womanly advice about their wedding night. Denise blushed furiously as she listened to Karen’s female wisdom, but she nodded her head at her friend’s suggestions and filed them away for later that night. Karen cut it short when Keith came over and asked her what he should do with the corsage.

"Well, Keith, I think you should keep it and carry it today," Karen told her new daughter. As she mentioned his name, her face took on a thoughtful expression.

"Uh, Keith?"

"Yeah, mom?"

"Don’t you think it’s about time we did something about your name? Keith just doesn’t sound right anymore."

"I suppose," the pretty girl replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

"I mean, seeing you in that pretty dress and those dressy pumps make me think you should have a name that is as pretty as you are," Karen explained.

Keith nodded. He had known this was coming, but he had tried to avoid it -- at first because he felt funny about taking a girl’s name, and lately because he couldn’t decide on one he liked.

"Why don’t we call you Kyla?" Nancy suggested. "Since your new brother is Kyle, and you’re twins, I think Kyla would be cool, and it’s a pretty name," Karen rattled off quickly.

From the way his mother, spoke it was obvious to the former boy that she had given the matter some thought, so he considered the name she suggested. It didn’t strike him as overly feminine, like Rose, or Missy, and he really couldn’t think of a reason to say no. At least he’d still have the same initials.

"Okay, mom, I can live with Kyla," he told her and received a warm hug for his consideration.

"Great Kyla," Karen told her newly christened daughter. "Why don’t you go tell Jerrud your new name, then we’ll head over to the party."

"Okay mom," Kyla replied, fingering the bouquet. "I’ll walk over with Jerrud, if that’s okay."

Karen smiled and nodded. "That’s fine, honey," she replied.

____________________

Danielle clung to Larry’s arm as she negotiated the narrow wooden bridge in her strappy, high-heeled sandals. The crude bridge hadn’t been designed with high heel shoes in mind, and she had to avoid the joints between the planks or risk breaking an ankle. She was growing more accustomed to wearing heels, especially since she had started teaching, but she wasn’t confident enough to traverse the uneven bridge and the stone blocks that paved the walk without an arm to lean on.

Larry was the perfect gentleman, and had been a good sport about the wedding when she broke the news to him, and she smiled her thanks when they finally traversed the bridge. He grinned down at her and she caught a look of desire in his eyes she had not seen before. She returned his smile shyly, suddenly very conscious of her appearance. Her pale blue dress was backless, and had a deep plunging neckline that precluded a bra, which not only made her breasts bounce with each step, but also allowed her nipples to push into the thin fabric and announce their presence to the world. The short, full skirt of the dress was susceptible to the slightest breeze, forcing Danielle to keep one hand on her hem while they walked to avoid revealing everything.

Yet Larry’s eyes had captured her own and they did not stray as he released her arm and contented himself with walking beside her. That was another nice thing about the guy, Danielle realized. He didn’t make her feel like a piece of meat by staring at her tits, yet he did not attempt to disguise his interest in her either. Danielle had found herself cataloguing Larry’s virtues quite often as of late, and when she attempted to balance her thoughts by listing his vices, she discovered the latter list was damned short and insignificant.

Danielle shook her head to clear the thought and her pretty blonde hair danced in the sunlight. Why was she thinking like that? She had enough problems trying to keep her family together and teach her students without acting like some schoolgirl. The last thing she wanted to do was become emotionally involved with someone. Besides, she and Larry had been buddies back on Earth, the idea of becoming romantically involved with him was ridiculous, or at least . . .

"If you don’t mind me saying so, you look very beautiful today, Danielle," her tall companion intoned softly.

The world-class beauty blushed almost as much as her daughter had earlier. "I don’t mind," she replied, turning and smiling up at him. When she glanced up, she saw a strange softness in Larry’s eyes, and for the first time she noticed how long his eyelashes were for a man. They looked good on him and seemed to emphasize the brilliant aquamarine hue of his eyes.

A brief glance turned into a gaze, and the gaze turned into an eternity as she felt herself mesmerized by his warm smile. She smiled broadly until she realized what she was doing, and then she forced herself to turn away and continue walking.

"Did you ever find someone to create a fireworks display for tonight?" Larry asked after a moment, and Danielle wasn’t sure whether he was reverting to his Presidential role or simply trying to break the silence that lengthened uncomfortably.

"Uh, yeah," she replied. "George Martin. He used to run Fourth of July celebrations in his town back on Earth, and he’s had some experience with making the stuff."

"Great, I was worried you wouldn’t be able to find anyone. I guess I should have known better," Larry chuckled.

"What do you mean?" Danielle asked.

"What I mean is that you’re so damned efficient, I should have known you would find someone for the job. I don’t know what I would do without you," he added.

Danielle turned and looked up at him again. "It was nothing," she replied with a grin, "but thanks for the compliment anyway."

"I didn’t mean the job," Larry said quietly, and when Danielle saw his face, her breath seemed to catch in her throat, and her knees felt a bit weak. It was happening again, and this time she couldn’t brush off the feeling.

"What do you mean then?" she asked softly.

"I mean that you’ve been a godsend for me," Larry answered seriously. "I’ve been spending practically every waking moment trying to keep this colony from falling apart, and seeing you, just having lunch or walking like this, is the only thing that keeps me going, the only thing that makes it all worthwhile. In case you don’t know it, I care very much for you."

Danielle was stunned by Larry’s admission, and part of her was overjoyed that he felt that way, that he cared for her. But another part of her was cautious, not willing to let her guard down or get emotionally involved. She had been hurt deeply just a few weeks before by someone she had loved her whole life and she was terrified of the idea of giving herself completely to anyone. It wasn’t a male - female thing -- not any longer -- but she was still suffering from open wounds that had nearly driven her to suicide.

"Larry, I --"

"It’s okay, I understand," he said soothingly, seemingly able to read her mind. "It’s too soon to think about that, but maybe we can talk some other time, okay?"

Danielle looked up at him and smiled and nodded, wondering why her eyes had misted over. But before she could say anything, Larry took her hand and guided her towards the Community Center.

____________________

The Community Center was mobbed, but Larry had managed to get tables for the entire wedding party on the mezzanine level, which in reality was the upper level that ringed the main floor, used for the upper level of bleachers when the huge hall was configured for sporting events. Their tables were right at the edge, touching the railings and overlooking the crowd below. He led the troop up the wide staircase and when everyone was seated, he disappeared for a moment.

Ken and Denise were sitting next to Danielle, but they were currently absorbed in a whispered conversation that was punctuated by Denise’s giggles and by Ken’s occasional laughter. Danielle turned and looked out over the floor and noticed a stage had been erected at one end of the room, and a long table with a white tablecloth and covered dishes sat alongside the opposite wall. In between, 90% of the colonists were milling about, talking and laughing as they mingled and met their friends. But the most striking thing she saw was a huge flag hanging above the stage area. It had thirteen red and white horizontal stripes and a blue field in the upper left hand corner with a representation of their new planet surrounded by a circle of thirteen white stars -- the flag of New America -- and Danielle’s eyes misted up a bit when she thought of all they had lost, all they had endured, and the struggle that still lay ahead. But today was a day for celebrations, and she cast those thoughts aside and turned back to her family.

At that moment Larry returned, accompanied by several of the staff from the center, and they were all carrying tubs with wine bottles nearly submerged in ice.

"What in the world is that?" Danielle asked.

"Champagne, of course," Larry deadpanned. "You can’t have a wedding reception without Champagne to toast the bride and groom."

"Champagne? We didn’t bring any champagne with us, and the botanists couldn’t possibly have grown the vines yet, much less harvested grapes and made wine," Danielle said incredulously.

"Of course not," Larry agreed.

"Well then, what is it -- really?"

"It’s best not to ask," the President told her with a smile.

"Larry!"

"Okay, okay," he said, holding his hands up as if to ward off an attack. "It’s a mixture of pure grain alcohol, something the kids call ‘dune berries,’ and some nice tart white berries we’ve discovered. Unfortunately, the mixture is pink, not clear, but the alcohol is 12% by volume, and it does taste like Champagne, well, kinda," he added with a grin.

"What a wonderful surprise!" Denise exclaimed as she gave Larry a hug.

It is very kind of you," Danielle told him. "You’re very resourceful."

"I can’t take the credit for the formula. I got a couple of the guys to scour around for something we could use and they came up with this," he replied.

____________________

The party was an event to remember, and even the kids got a taste of the bubbly. On the main floor, the colonists danced to recorded music, punctuated by sets from a group of musicians who were loud, if not accomplished. Occasionally, members of the wedding party descended the stairs to dance, and Denise and Ken were brought to their feet to kiss numerous times by the clinking of silverware against plates and glasses. Each time that it occurred, there were whistles and cheers, not only from the wedding party but the entire assemblage, and Denise’s face was crimson most of the night.

Larry took full advantage of the music to coax Danielle onto the dance floor several times, and after the first time, she didn’t need all that much coaxing. Danielle had never danced with a man before, and it took some time before she could follow without tripping in her high heel sandals, but once she got the hang of it, she enjoyed it a lot. She loved the sensation of Larry’s arm around her waist and his hard, masculine frame against her soft, yielding form. Even his scent intrigued her, and as the evening wore on, they spent more and more time in each other’s arms.

Of course Ken took Denise down for several dances too, and the first time they went down the staircase, the band leader announced that the next dance was for the newlyweds, and everyone cleared the floor while they danced self-consciously. Their dancing was a bit worse than Larry and Danielle’s efforts, perhaps because neither the bride nor the groom had ever danced in their new gender roles, but they didn’t make fools of themselves. They received a round of applause when they finished.

Not to be outdone, Jerrud asked "Kyla" to dance several times, and Kyle found Joy Taylor somewhere down on the floor and they too spent some time pressed together. After a few dances, the teens went upstairs and received permission to join the other kids in their gang at the dune. When Karen gave her okay, Kyle and Kyla headed for home to change and Jerrud followed them out.

Even Pat got into the act, insisting on a dance with his daughter, and then spending time with a pneumatic blonde he had brought to the party. The woman was an M/F transie, but she acted like an airhead and giggled at every remark Pat made. Danielle wondered where her former spouse had managed to pick up that bimbo, and it was hard to be polite, especially since the dumb chick could barely carry on a conversation.

____________________

Jerrud and Kyla walked to the dunes holding hands. Underneath Kyla’s short terrycloth robe, she was wearing her newest outfit -- a tiny white bikini with a halter-top and a scandalously microscopic thong bottom. She hadn’t shown it to her mother, and she had brought her other suit in her beach bag so she could change before going home.

Since Jerrud had introduced her to the joys of her new sex, she had undergone a tremendous change in attitude. Now, she thought being a girl was wonderful, and she wanted to be noticed for her femininity and her beauty -- especially by Jerrud. Kyla now understood why her former sister had packed a trousseau of sexy clothes and lacy lingerie, and she felt bad about the times she had teased Kelli unmercifully for being boy crazy. Since that special night, she had been boy crazy too, at least when it came to one special boy, and Kyla couldn’t help herself.

Most of the gang was on the dune when Jerrud and Kyla made it up the sandy hill, and when they walked over to where the pop and dune berries were, Kyla waited until she had Jerrud’s attention, then shrugged out of her short robe and let it slide down her arms to the ground. Every boy within sight immediately stopped whatever he was doing, some pausing in mid-sentence as they spoke, and all eyes turned towards Kyla. The new girl smiled to herself, knowing her growing breasts filled the cups of her tiny halter-top magnificently, and that her narrow waist and feminine hips were very attractive. But the thong bottom was the real eye-catcher. The skimpy little thing barely covered her pubis, and from the side it appeared as if she was naked below the waist.

The look on Jerrud’s face was worth the risk Kyla had taken in wearing the suit. The tall boy’s eyes were riveted on her, and when he spoke, the raspy sound of his voice betrayed his excitement, though he feigned nonchalance.

"Damn, that suit is hot, Kyla! It looks great on you," he managed to say, and the new girl flashed him a coquettish smile and struck a pose.

"Do you really think so?" She asked, a warm feeling growing just from the way Jerrud looked at her.

In response, Jerrud reached out and pulled Kyla to himself and bent low, kissing her. Kyla was caught off guard and shocked by Jerrud’s sudden move, but she soon found herself responding to his lips with enthusiasm. Somehow, his touch unleashed her ardor and banished her inhibitions. A small part of what was once Keith questioned her acquiescence, but all doubts vanished when Jerrud slid one hand down to caress her nearly naked bottom, sending chills through the new girl, despite the warm night.

Jerrud finally released her to scattered applause and whistles from some of the others, and Kyla realized that it was the first time she ever displayed her affection for Jerrud in public. She also realized that by taking her in his arms and kissing her forcefully in front of the others, Jerrud had publicly marked her as his girl, but strangely enough that didn’t bother her one bit. When Jerrud slipped his arm around her waist and rested his hand on her softly rounded bottom as he steered her over to the fire pit, Kyla smiled up at him and allowed him to take the lead. After a couple of steps, she leaned against him and smiled as they went to join the others.

____________________

Denise and Ken finally left the party around nine o’clock and made their way to Pat’s house. Pat had told Ken that he would be staying "elsewhere" that night to give them privacy, and Ken had thanked his bride’s former mother. When he opened the door, the new Mrs. Denise Mills was about to enter when he grabbed her arm and restrained her.

"Just a second, honey," he said, and when Denise looked at him curiously, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her across the threshold as she giggled.

"Why do people do that?" she asked after he had set her down gently.

"It’s a very old custom," he replied. "It’s meant to symbolize the return of the conquering hero with his prize -- the girl, if his desires won by his skill and prowess at the joust."

"Really? Am I the girl of your desires?" she asked coquettishly.

"You are the object of my fondest desire, that which stirs my blood to passion, my beautiful maiden of the dawn, and my fulfillment in life," Ken said softly as he held her close and gazed down at her with his infectious crooked grin.

"Wow!" Denise breathed, grinning up her new mate and suppressing the urge to chuckle. "That’s quite a line, oh great husband of mine," she replied.

"I thought so too," he told her. "In fact, I’ve been practicing it for a week."

Denise laughed, unable to stop herself. "Well don’t stop now, keep going. I like the way you think."

At that moment, the first salvo of fireworks burst overhead with a tremendous boom, and the couple turned towards the large sliding glass door and saw the rockets spewing their colorful embers in a kaleidoscopic canopy.

"Let’s watch," Denise suggested, and Ken took her arm and opened the sliding door. They stepped out on the balcony and beheld the small settlement in the valley below just as another volley of rockets raced skywards. Seconds later, they were bathed in the multi-colored glow of the display, followed closely by the report of the detonation.

"It’s beautiful," Denise exclaimed. "Sort of romantic, too."

Ken was behind his bride, his arms around her waist, and he turned her to face him and kissed her lovingly, letting his hands roam freely over her soft, shapely form. Denise melted into his embrace and her hands slid up his hard chest and her fingers entwined themselves behind his neck as she reveled in his embrace. Ken was too aroused to stop, and he reached behind his wife, pushed her hair aside and slowly lowered the zipper of her dress. Then his hands found the base of her neck and pushed aside the flimsy straps down her arms. The bodice fell to her hips, exposing Denise’s lacy, demi-cup bra and her barely restrained breasts. The groom looked down at her with desire, observing how her breasts rose and fell with each breath she took, and he pushed the dress down over her feminine hips. The snow-white material pooled at the bride’s feet, revealing the lacy bikini that matched her bra and concealed her womanhood.

____________________

Denise was dimly aware of the fireworks exploding in the distance, but they could not possibly match the fireworks her new husband was setting off. His touch was exquisitely gentle and tantalizingly sensuous as he explored her body, softly mapping her curves. She stood before him in only her bra, panties, stockings and heels, open and vulnerable to him and anxious to be taken. When he reached behind her once again and freed her soft orbs from their silken prison, she shivered in anticipation and her nipples engorged while her inner recesses grew moist. She longed for him to lead her to their bed but he held her at arm’s length and inspected her youthful figure with awe. When he finally picked her up and carried her back inside, she buried her face in his chest and relished his strong arms and the feeling of warmth and security he provided.

She felt herself being lowered to soft sheets, and when she once again opened her eyes, she saw Ken had already removed his suit coat and tie, and was unbuttoning his shirt while he continued to gaze at her. His expression spoke of desire and love and promises of wonderful pleasures, and the blushing bride shivered once more in anticipation. It seemed to take forever, but Ken finally stood before the bed clothed in only his powerful, masculine form, and Denise held her arms out to her lover and her mate.

The new husband slid into bed next to his bride and immediately turned to her and took her in his arms. When Denise felt her mate’s large strong arms surround her, she snuggled against him and felt the warmth of his body against her own soft, pliant form. His masculine scent filled her nostrils and made her giddy. When he mounted her and began caressing her breasts, her breathing became deep and rapid, and when he caressed her pliant tits, she moaned softly and closed her eyes, savoring the wondrous sensation.

The feelings were incredible! Since Ken had once been on the receiving end of a seduction, he knew just what to do, where to touch her, how to bring her to a fever pitch, and the former female used all of his knowledge to inflame his bride’s passion. Denise gasped at his expert methods and her cries drowned out the booming of the finale of the fireworks display. She responded to each touch, each caress, just as Ken anticipated, and her mewed pleas for him to take her were the oral manifestation of her complete capitulation to him. When he finally decided the time was right, her new husband entered her, and her response was so complete, neither she nor Ken noticed one final, tremendous explosion in the night sky.

____________________

Not far away, in a small copse of trees at the crest of enormous sand dune, Kyla lay on her back, naked, with Jerrud driving into her. Her response matched Denise’s perfectly, and she moaned and cried as her lover took her to the height of ecstasy. As she looked up, the new teenage girl saw a streak of light cross the sky, followed by a thunderous detonation. Her mind dismissed it as a meteorite a second before her concentration was absorbed by a mind-numbing explosion from within.

 

To be continued . . .

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Julia Manchester. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.