Whose Body Is It, Anyway?             by: Brandy Dewinter

 

Chapter 3 - Who Is That?!

My first sensation as I began to awaken the next morning was that the constriction about my waist was as tight as ever, maybe even worse. After that, sensations came flooding in with such overwhelming impact that sequence was immaterial.

An attempt to look at my constricted waist was impeded by something that I didn’t want to recognize. Two somethings, actually. I couldn’t get a very clear look because something else was holding my head down to the bed. Other strange tactile signals were clamoring for attention, leading to an overload that caused me to drop my head back to my bunk and scream mentally.

*Titania!!*

"Yes? Good morning." Her reply was impossibly calm. "Is there a problem?"

*What have you done to me?!*

"Only what we discussed. I have improved your body while you rested."

By this time my curiosity was overcoming my shock and I tried again to sit up. It was now obvious that my hair had grown long enough to be captured behind my shoulders. That had been what was holding my head down. The stiffness about my waist made a sit-up difficult, but after a few seconds of irritated frustration I managed to lift my torso. Across my small room was a large mirror. That was both blessing and curse, for it replaced my curiosity with certainty about something my mind had been avoiding.

In the mirror was a beautiful woman. Long, smooth legs swelled into generous hips. A slender waist provided an accenting focus for quite impressive, um, yeah, which themselves curved smoothly into a long neck. Topping it all off was an impossibly pretty face framed by long, sable-dark hair. Someone might have made the claim that the body was discreetly clothed, since a dark red jumpsuit covered it from toes to chin, but that claim was made ludicrous by the intimate tightness with which the suit caressed every strange, yet all-too-well-recognized contour.

"You call this an improvement?" I gasped in shock. Well, I would have gasped, but that constriction at my waist was still making breathing a distant memory. My voice did come out, though, and it would have triggered its own gasp for it now had the pure melody of Titania’s own contralto.

"Of course. I only did what you wanted, after all." Titania’s perfect tones made a mockery by contrast with those I had blurted out.

I snorted in a fashion quite incongruous with my new appearance.

"What I wanted? What makes you think I wanted any of this?"

"Why, it was quite clear. In your dreams, you were distinctly thinking that you wished you had Commander Tryx’s body. You even sub-vocalized it."

My voice, well, my old voice, sounded as though from a recording, "Oh, Tryx, I want your body!"

"That’s not what I meant! I meant I wanted her, in her body, to be with me!"

"You mean you thought one thing, and meant the opposite?"

In the mirror, my now perfect complexion was tinted by a most becoming blush. At least, it looked good on the person in the mirror. Seeing that fueled the fire in my cheeks even more while I was forced to admit, "Well, yes, sometimes."

"Hmmph," Titania sniffed in wordless comment, then put it into words, too. "I can hardly be blamed if your own thoughts are confused and contradictory to your wishes." "Though perhaps," and now she was musing almost to herself, "I should have picked up on some element of contradiction when your other memories were so focused on dark hair and green eyes instead of Commander Tryx’s coloring. I interpreted that as wanting her body, but with another head."

While she was chattering on, making things worse. I swung my legs from the bed and stepped closer to the mirror. Or at least, I tried to. I was unprepared for the tall, tapered spindles that had seemingly grown from my heels. As a result, I found myself introducing my shapely, um nose to the carpet.

"Clumsy," Titania snickered.

"Damnit, Titania, undo these changes."

"Why? Within human standards, this is clearly a more attractive shape. In only one night I couldn’t get you completely to the form displayed by Commander Tryx, but we’re well on our way."

"We are NOT! Change me back."

"I will not! You asked for this. It’s attractive. I rather like it in fact. Your features are much more elegant than Commander Tryx, as I understand human characteristics. I think it suits us."

"Well I don’t!" I snarled, struggling up onto my high-heeled feet and turning in the mirror to look at my now-enormous bottom.

Just then my communicator screen flashed it’s warning light. That was intended as a courtesy for early morning calls so that the room’s occupants could be decently attired when the real call came through a few minutes later.

"Oh, God, that must be Admiral Jones. I can’t let him see me like this!" I shouted, then staggered my way into the bathroom.

Turning on the shower, I asked Titania, "How do I get this suit off?"

"You don’t. It’s part of you, or part of me, however you want to consider it. If you want it gone, I’ll just reabsorb it."

With those words, the sleek red color vanished to reveal a most elegantly embroidered corset around a delicately slender waist. It also revealed that the twin protuberances which had blocked my line of sight were all natural, at least in appearance. Above them, a matching high collar held my neck primly erect.

"Get rid of these corset things, too," I demanded.

"Sorry, I can’t do that, yet," Titania refused. "Your thinner waist and neck structures are not yet ready to support you without these aids. I can make them flesh-colored, but they’ll still be there. I told you I couldn’t get everything done in just one night. Don’t worry, though, the water won’t hurt them. In fact, please do take a shower."

"Look, I turned the shower on so that the Admiral’s robosec will delay his call. It can sense when a receiver’s shower is on. We need to undo these changes before he calls!"

"I’ve told you that I don’t want to do that. Moreover, there is no way that I can undo the changes that quickly. It took all night to get you to your present form!"

Out of distracted habit, I had stepped under the shower. Even the fact that my heels were still sharply elevated could not compete with the information overload from more . . . prominent . . . changes. Once I was in the shower, though, an even more compelling sensation demanded attention.

"What is that smell?!" I gagged.

"Just voided waste," Titania replied. "These showers are wonderful for washing it away. I can exude it through our entire skin rather than taking the trouble to concentrate it."

Deeply-embedded associations I held for the tones of that perfect voice undermined the anguish I needed to release as I moaned, "What am I going to tell the Admiral?"

"I don’t see the problem," Titania replied, exasperation now present in her voice. "This body is attractive. It comes equipped with quite efficient storage areas at bust and hips. I was able to shift a lot of your old body’s excess material to those locations, plus of course there is a lot of protein in your hair. I’m quite proud of the way our hair turned out. Tryx’s hair is much shorter. I thought that was part of the reason you wanted a different head on her body. Unfortunately, while I was able to work the small bone shapes quite readily, hence the progress with your face, hands, and feet, it will take a bit longer to change your shoulders and waist to match Commander Tryx’s form."

"Thank God for small favors," I snapped, turning off the shower in yet another distracted reflex. I was reaching for a towel when I realized all the residual water on my body had been absorbed. The dark red jumpsuit shimmered into existence even as I was stepping from the stall.

"Do I have to have these stupid heels?" I sighed, beginning to lose hope that the massive changes in my appearance could be fixed in the near term.

"Yes. Just as Bee did for Commander Tryx, I have modified your foot bones and tendons so that you need quite a bit of heel for your feet to be comfortable. I suggest you practice walking a bit. Apparently, you are not as skilled as Commander Tryx in walking with shoes of that form."

"Listen, Titania, I have a few suggestion for you, too, you . . ."

My comment was interrupted by a flare of light from the communicator screen. It cleared to show a distinguished looking man wearing an Admiral’s insignia.

"Commander Xora?" he asked in surprise.

For once, I was glad the military had trained reflexive courtesy into me, for it was those reflexes that carried me through my response. I pulled myself erect, well, I guess I was already pretty erect with the waist and neck things that Titania had formed. Anyway, I straightened whatever was still relaxed, provoking some most distracting secondary motions in my new, um, equipment, and saluted.

"Yes, sir!"

The admiral was clearly distracted by those secondary motions as well, but after a wide-eyed second, he glanced down at the papers on his desk.

"There seems to be some sort of mistake," he mumbled more to himself than to me.

"I’m afraid not, Admiral," I volunteered. Then I continued my thought to Titania, *At least, not a mistake by his staff.* She didn’t deign to respond.

"These records indicate Commander Xora is male, and, well, not terribly fit," the admiral insisted. The obvious contradiction with the vision before him was too overpowering for words.

"Yes, well, as to that, um, well, I was, uh, experimenting with my, um, control over the symbiont," I claimed.

The admiral’s eyebrows tried to vanish into his hairline, a hopeless task for such bushy appendages, with much too far to go anyway. "Are you telling me that you prefer to be a woman?"

"No! Not at all," I answered quickly. "It’s just that, well, um, it seemed, um, prudent to, uh, test the limits, so to speak. So we, that is, I tried for something as different from my old self as possible, given only one night to work the changes."

"Well, you certainly succeeded. It is different," the admiral confirmed, his lack of comfort with the change still apparent in his eyes.

*You should feel it from this side,* I snorted, but silently.

The screen showed the admiral shrugging his shoulders as though deciding to move past this unexpected issue. However, his eyes still seemed to linger on my new form more than on meeting my eyes; the new ones that showed a brilliant green in the reflection from the screen.

"Well, back to business," the admiral said. "You have probably guessed by now that I am Admiral Jones, your new commanding officer. I don’t expect my agents to do all that formal posturing like saluting and such. In the field, conditions are inherently informal and I want my agents to be able to relax when they return, not face additional stress. However, we do need to meet and discuss possible assignments for you. Are you still experimenting, or can you come by my office?"

"Uh, well, I still have a lot to learn about the symbiont," I replied, thinking that was an understatement of historic proportions, "but nothing should interfere with a briefing." *I hope,* I thought to Titania, both a request and a threat that we both knew I couldn’t really back up.

"Very well, I’ll see you at, let’s see, 1100 hours," Jones declared, then nodded abruptly as he terminated the transmission.

As soon as the screen faded, I looked into the mirror and started talking to the image. It seemed to give me an anchor in my thoughts about the symbiont, as though that person were someone else and not just a reflection. "All right, Titania, let’s get some things straight. This is my body. Major decisions like changing my appearance this much, for God’s sake even changing my sex, should be mine to make. And I want to change back."

Even as I said the words, the classic beauty of the image in the mirror was arousing me. It wasn’t me, at least not in my subconscious perception. It was a dream-perfect beauty who just mimicked my movements. I was captivated by her luminous green eyes, impossibly large in such a delicately-boned face. A twitch of smile curved a glossy lip, a sweep of brow confirmed the pleasure in the glance. My words were harsh, but my soul was distracted by a beauty that was literally the woman of my dreams.

Titania snickered in my ear with a conspiratorial whisper, "You’re not even convincing yourself."

"Huh, what, no! I want to change back," those perfect lips, that beautiful voice cried.

"Why?" Titania asked in a gentle, calming voice. "Did you really like being the old Xora all that much?"

"But I was a man!" I wailed.

"Oh, that. That’s easy," Titania assured me. "Just a minute."

From the snug "v" at the juncture of those long, smooth legs, a bulge began to appear. A minute is a very long time when one is literally holding one’s breath, but in not much more than that interval a recognizable though compressed set of masculine equipment showed where only smoothness had existed before.

"I think it spoils the line of the suit," Titania grumped, "but soft tissue is easy. All the necessary parts have their female equivalents, so it’s just a matter of moving around what’s already there. You’d have to give me a little more time if you want to be fertile again, since those particular organs need to move quite a bit, but in all other respects, you’re a man again."

The spectacular form in the mirror put a lie to Titania’s claim. She was most definitely not male "in all other respects". Her slender fingers were prodding at the new contours, trying to confirm what her, that is, my eyes were showing. Titania obligingly removed a localized portion of the jumpsuit and my sword emerged, rampant. Quite a bit rampant, in fact. Titania had apparently felt some improvements were in order here, too.

"There, satisified now?" Titania asked.

"I, uh, well, yes. Can you do that anytime I want?" I gulped.

"Sure, and more besides," Titania promised, then made good on her promise. My knees buckled as my body was consumed with the intensity of the sensations that flooded through me.

A part of me was screeching with the unfairness of not being able to breathe in the damn corset when I needed to pant so badly. But a part was wallowing in a post-climax satisfaction more intense than any in my admittedly-limited experience. Even as my need for air was recognized, it was assuaged. I picked myself up off the floor and watched as my suit once again met the needs of decent coverage. The bulge remained, though, and even to me it was painfully incongruous with the rest of the image in the mirror.

"Oh, well, if you can get it back that quickly, you might as well hide it when we look like this," I grudgingly consented.

The shape in the mirror once again displayed undeniably feminine contours from arch of toe to elevated chin. Now that I was assured the changes were only temporary, I was able to look at them with a less-panicked perspective. The woman in the mirror clearly had been taken from my fantasies. Her figure was not quite as sharply contoured as Tryx, though it was nothing less than spectacular by normal, hell, even by vidstar standards. The face, as promised by Titania, had a refined elegance in sharply defined cheekbones, a pert little nose, and those incredible eyes. From somewhere deep in my subconscious (did that sort of thing come to the surface during dreams?) Titania must have picked up on my fascination with hair for the image showed a thick, glossy-dark mane that flowed smoothly to her waist. It was indeed the image of a woman that I would have liked to be near. Just not this near.

"No!," I denied my attraction. "You need to change me back."

"Into your old shape?" Titania snorted with disbelief.

"No, not completely. But I need to still be a man," I demanded.

Titania’s voice resounded with real disappointment as she asked, "Just exactly what changes will satisfy you, then?"

"What, oh, I don’t know, exactly," I admitted.

"Well, I certainly can’t make the changes you want if you don’t even KNOW what you want," she grumped in exasperation. "Your mental images of desirable women were quite clear, but there were no corresponding images of desirable men."

"I should hope not! I don’t find men desirable!"

"Then WHY do you want me to change you into one?!"

"I mean I don’t find other men desirable. I just want to be one myself."

"Look, this isn’t getting us anywhere," Titania sighed. "I can’t work any changes until tonight, anyway. You decide what you want by then, and I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, we need to get ready to meet the admiral."

"What else do we need to do?" I asked.

"If you think I’m going to have people saying that MY host is clumsy, you’ve got another think coming. You need to practice walking and moving gracefully. By the time we get to the Admiral’s office we need to be making people forget about Commander Tryx and Bee."

Now it was my turn to snort, "I don’t care about your rivalry."

"Well, you better," Titania replied. "It’s important to me. Maybe I made a mistake with this shape, but it’s the one both of us are stuck with for at least the rest of the day. It needs to be done well, as anything we do needs to be done well."

That was a pretty compelling argument, so I nodded and moved carefully to the viewscreen, calling up a tutorial on feminine deportment. The Federation might need to send its agents to any of the cultures in the galaxy so there were training tapes on nearly any topic imaginable. I had no idea how Tryx had trained for her first mission, but I was sure it couldn’t have been any more difficult than the lessons I was trying to absorb in the couple of hours left before my appointment with Admiral Jones.

 

(continued in part )

 

 

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© 1999 by Brandy Dewinter. 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.