Aphora's Mission Ch. 08

(Note: for those who may be joining this novella mid-stream, the story line involves some men who were captured on earth -- who eventually volunteered to transition to women-with-dicks in order to save a planet of all women from extinction. At this point in the story, the gurls are close to arriving at their destination -- the planet Aphora. The author's guess is that the novella is now between one-third and one-half complete, and the author is looking forward to the gurls' adventures on Aphora.)

The intruding duty officer immediately put the junior office and I, still sweating from our fun, on the defensive. Obviously, we'd broken the rules -- more so my partner -- but then again I wasn't supposed to be sleeping with the crew.

The duty officer was one of the more unimpressive women on the ship: older, rather fat to tell the truth, with big breasts threatening to bust out (bad pun, I know) from her cotton shirt, while her hips were overly wide and plump. Her hair was curly-short and she had a radio-like device strapped to her waist.

She was speaking into her translator device for my benefit, with kind of a superior, know-it-all smile playing about her lips: "You both will be disciplined for your irresponsible actions. You, my crew officer, have risked becoming pregnant because of your lack of self-control. As for now ... "

She reached into a back pocket to pull out lengths of plastic which turned out to be wrist restraints, with which she secured the junior officer's hands behind her back (after she fully dressed), and secured one of my wrists to a railing on the side of the small room (after I'd dressed).

They left, leaving me highly upset about the trouble we'd caused and about the blot on the junior officer's record. I wasn't that concerned about my own future.

Shortly, the duty officer returned. "Don't be too hard on her," I said. "It was as much my fault as her's." I surprised myself for speaking their language fairly well.

"Pora-tarne," she now responded without the translator, "she will be isolated for a time before we land, and she will probably return to civilian life. And as for you, I have decided upon the treatment you should receive." Her off-putting smile returned, her large breasts and hips loomed, and it appeared she was licking her lips in anticipation of punishing me.

I remained silent, and with my more female-like attributes, I was less inclined to talk back or be a smart-ass. She walked over to a corner of the room to where there was apparently a video monitoring camera I hadn't noticed and flicked a switch before returning.

And then, her whole façade of official morality evaporated as she (while I was still restrained) forced her big, unattractive, wet lips on mine and brought her hand down to grab my butt and then began to clumsily massage my dick. At first I was shocked and repulsed, but somehow the combination of being restrained and forced upon began to make me embarrassingly hard again.

"You dumb slut, now you'll pay the price," she intoned. Glaring at me, she added, "You will now pleasure me, and if you perform to my satisfaction, I may not report you to the ship's captain, and you will be able to return happily to your feminization."

I looked at her with anger, but also with a bit of arousal. She removed my restraint, which had been so tightly closed it had cut into my wrist.

"Aren't you afraid I will tell on you?"

"No," she replied, with the somewhat-cruel smile, "because no one would believe you."

"Now undress me, Pora-tarne, but leave the bra, then undress yourself down to your bra."

I did as told, unbuckling her wide belt and pulling her officer's trousers down, then pulled off her panties and shirt. Her bra barely held her large breasts in check, and I could smell her skin. I had a brief look at her expansive cunt, with the largest pubic lips I'd ever seen, surrounded by a large dollop of reddish-brown hair and thick, fat legs.

She looked at me looking at her, reveling in my distaste. Despite my misgivings, my cock had other ideas and was behaving like a happy puppy. I was embarrassed. She briefly grabbed my prong with the result that some drops of pre-cum emerged.

"I don't particularly like leftovers, but since males are so rare, I'll take what I can get," she chortled. "Get down on your knees."

I obeyed, knowing exactly what was coming. With my now-female body, I felt like a lesbian submissive, with benefits, of course.

She parted her outer pubic lips and without any finesse or playfulness put her clit directly against my mouth. For whatever reason, I felt myself my penis going vertical -- it was harder than it had been with the junior officer.

Her cunt was really wet, and her moist, fragrant hair (with not the most beguiling perfume) ticked my face. I began sucking and licking her erect clit, but that wasn't enough. She began to rub her cunt up and down against my lips and nose. This went on until I briefly had to pull out for air, but she immediately pulled me against her again. Her arousal soon resulted in her stiffening and letting out the most disagreeable, lengthy grunt, and then there was even more wetness there.

Then she lay down and motioned me over, pulling a sort-of condom from her discarded trousers to roll down over my waiting cock. "We won't make the same mistake, will we?" she asked. "Now fuck me, Pora-tarne, and fuck me hard."

So here I was, in a bra, with my hair streaming down, straddling her, with my dick swinging from side to side, aching for release, virtually spilling over with hot cum. I inserted it into her vast warmth as I grabbed her breast and kneaded it.

"Kiss me," she ordered.

As I did, with my lips melting into hers, and seeing for the first time the heavy mascara on her eyelashes, I began to thrust away like a madman, and I could feel my wonderful new tits swinging. Her eyes closed as she began to squirm in order to suck in every inch of me. It was a little like fucking a water bed, to be honest, as I lay down on her sweating body. Soon, I began to scream as I approached orgasm, and she yelled, "Shut up, cunt! Did I say you could say anything?"

This non-plussed me, and caught me short of my orgasm, and I stopped for a moment, but the excitement of her owning me kept me rock hard, and I began to pump again. When I soon blew my rocks I couldn't help but utter a little "Ahhh."

"Don't stop now, bitch," she admonished, and so I lamely continued until I was quite slack.

"Now, lick me clean," she ordered, which I did like the true workwoman I'd become. It was all or nothing for me, and I'd begun to perversely like being her lesbian-dick-slave.

Then she sat up, removed the condom, lay me down, and squeezed the collected semen out all over my face, rubbing it around and forcing some in my mouth. My denouement was complete, almost as though I'd lost my virginity again -- like she'd forced me into a new realm of female debauchery. That was subliminal, but on my conscious level, I didn't feel all that good about myself.

Later, when I had time to think about it, I wished she'd fucked me with a dildo, to complete what she'd begun. But this scenario with her wasn't to be repeated.

The guys back in our room noticed something different about me (maybe my lack of sleep that night), and one even guessed I'd gotten some pussy, but they never would've believed I'd had two rather crazy women back to back. On the other hand, I bet that at least several of them had had sex with crew and hadn't been caught like I was. And I'll bet they used condoms.

I ended up keeping it all to myself, my little rape, and even though I saw the slob (the duty officer) around the ship several times in the following days, she didn't offer a flicker of recognition. I also saw the junior officer I'd had sex with, walking around like everything was normal, except that she avoided me like the plague. Obviously, the duty officer hadn't reported her at all.

I debated telling the ship's top brass about what happened (I had seen a telltale tattoo on the duty officer's belly), but realized that that would jeopardize the junior officer and me both. So, maybe in error, I let it all go -- for the time being.

We were in the final week of our voyage, and we guys/girls were becoming very pleased with our new bodies, with our feminization. All of the medical manipulation had reached a relatively quick fruition, certainly much faster than transgender transformations on Earth.

We embarrassingly became like a bunch of high school girls, trying on various outfits, experimenting with makeup, and taking selfies.

We had a final class in female deportment where we were taught how to behave like Aphoran women. We learned more about how Aphoran women differed from American women, Aphoran mannerisms, how to avoid conflict, and importantly, how single Aphoran women approached each other for sex -- and not least of all, their sexual repertoire.

We guys/girls of course were especially interested in the approaches and repertoire part. We learned that women not in relationships in recent years have signaled their availability by wearing a certain style of necklace or bracelet -- made from a mineral not unlike turquoise. Another hint was to wear hair in a single braid. We learned the rudiments of dancing, Aphoran-style, and how to make sexual moves while doing so. We learned the styles of makeup that were most likely to attract others, and what perfumes were popular.

Then, the most popular styles of sex: Aphoran women loved to kiss each other in the small of their backs and in the backsides of their thighs, and on their bellybuttons, as a prelude, we were told. They loved to brush nipples with nipples, and touch each other through each other's panties. Oral sex was not quite so popular as on Earth, but thigh grinding was a definite turn-on and clitoral touching had many variations. It was also commonplace to take a certain drug to enhance sex, which made the orgasmic experience more intense and last much longer.

We also learned which sorts of clothing and lingerie Aphoran women tended to find the most sexy.

Then, we were introduced to the intriguing and extreme variety of women's strap-on dildos, double-ended dildos, dildos for self use, and popular vibrators. There were even some fucking machines available, and warm dildos and dildos to penetrate both vagina and ass simultaneously, and anus-only thingees. Quite entertaining, indeed.

Our anticipation for being let loose on Aphora was growing daily.

Too much to cover here, but in the "extra things" category, some women were said to like to tie each other up, or use restraints, and play prisoner or dominatrix. That brought back the memory of the episode with the duty officer. We were also told about an underground sex-for-sale availability. So, the world's oldest profession was truly universal!

On the other hand, we were told that a certain percentage of Aphoran women (about one-third) weren't moved to have sex with other women (despite the lack of men, and despite public pressure to do so) -- and were content to satisfy themselves. Also, a certain percentage of Aphoran women were rather masculine in personality and bearing (like the officer we'd encountered in the island camp and like, to a degree, the duty officer) and so they attracted some of the quite-feminine Aphoran women who wouldn't have been attracted to other femme women.

As part of the last day of class, we learned perhaps the most important lesson of all -- how we were to have intercourse with Aphoran women without giving away our hidden maleness -- because the powers that be wanted to keep us under the radar. They just wanted a sprinkling of women, at first, to discover they were pregnant -- by immaculate, virgin conception of course!

The technique we would use was a bit disappointing, because ideally the six of us wanted to have sex with Aphoran women "live," as on Earth, to interact with them and go for the heights. But we were told in no uncertain terms that we would be using a new version of the popular sexual drug to remove any recognition of having seen a real penis, or being penetrated by one. There might be a few innocent questions asked by a few women after having sex, but we needed to be very careful to avoid detection.

After a time, we were told, we'd be allowed to form relationships with trusted women who we could experience regular sex with, without being drugged -- women who wouldn't reveal our special apparatus to others.

Almost predictably, we six gurls planned to hold a private "Miss Aphora" competition. But the ship's command got wind of our plan and decided to make it a ship-wide event. All the crew take in our event and vote.

So the six of us amicably decided to have ourselves rated on: knowledge of the Aphoran language, best body and best female mannerisms, best dressed, and best talent (of whatever sort). The talent I chose to go with was card tricks, which I'd learned in high school.

We had three days to prepare, and again, Will was all over me asking for advice on how he should dress, and so on. He was so uncertain of himself that I knew he wouldn't win. I also knew I wouldn't win, because Kevin and Dick had better bodies and facial looks, and came across more femininely and sexually.

The event was scheduled for an "evening" (even though it was always evening outside the ship). Because all the clothing and lingerie we'd ordered would only be given us on arrival in Aphora, we had to go with Chris' clothing racks, so-so lingerie and hose, shoes, and makeup. There were several very sexy and clingy clothing items we all wanted to wear, so for those we drew straws. Then, there were the bathing suits we already had, for the "best body" competition.

We even had Chris create glittering sashes for us, in the style of Miss U.S.A. contestants. I was Miss Florida, Robin (who got a late start with his feminization) was Miss Alabama, Doug was Miss Louisiana (we all wanted to be southern belles), and so on. Chris also made a crown.

The whole ship was jumping with anticipation. The core reason for their very lengthy trip would now be on full display. They could see how well the transformation had worked.

Would we look like queens in a drag show or would we look feminine and maybe even beautiful?