The Ascension
Today's the day, and you feel your heart beating a little faster in your chest as you stand in line outside the assembly center. Tense with anticipation, you woke up early, and by the time you arrived the line had barely begun - now, it stretches back through a series of roped-off switchbacks that cover the building's entire front lawn, and at least three hundred other boys your age, fresh out of the ceremony confirming your collective societal adulthood the day before, are waiting, watching, and hoping.
"So, feel like you're ready?" You look over at Nazami, who is standing beside you. You've known him ever since childhood, where you first banded together to take on the kids who'd been bullying you at the common-house where you grew up, and among your group of friends, he is by far the closest. He is a little taller than you, with lustrous golden-brown fur that stands out against your own matte auburn. For a boy, he is nicely built, the clean, masculine lines of his face and body showing the quality of his high- or purebred canine ancestors from long ago, a line that had somehow propagated against the odds to the modern day. Even if he is not chosen today, you know that he will do fine - with your more average looks, you're less sure about your own prospects, but know you have the skills to at least make something decent out of them.
Today, though, is the ultimate test - the one that will determine which of those in line will stay the same, and which will abruptly be embarking on a very different course.
You shake your head. "I don't know..."
"Yeah, I get that," Nazami replies, sighing gently as he glanced up into the clear blue sky. "It's one of those things that you just can't know before it happens. Kinda like a lottery, I guess - even getting your genes sequenced can't tell you whether or not you're gonna be chosen. And really, I think I'm more anxious about if it does happen than if it doesn't. I know ascending's nice and all, and I know everyone here's probably hoping and praying that they get to be the ones, but at the same time it's a really big change, and a lot of stuff changes all at once, and... I'm really used to being me, you know? I mean, I know that I'll still be me, but... yeah, I think you're right. I really don't know how to feel..."
Ascending. Not the official term for it, but that's what everyone has called it since you first heard the term a few years ago, back when you first began to understand about women. Of course, that's hardly surprising, as apart from vague, distant memories of nursing at a mother's breast, for the most part you've only been around other boys, other men - at the common-house, in school, around town. That's not to say that women weren't around at all, and you've seen them on occasion walking around town, but rarely if ever up close - the few times you've seen them, they've seemed distant and powerful and awe-inspiringly beautiful, a bright flower shining out among a field of low, gray scrub-grass. It is always hard to catch a good glimpse, as every one you've seen is almost always accompanied by an entourage of men, ten or twenty or more, smartly dressed, impeccably groomed, and awaiting her beck and call. Women seem to project an aura of wealth and power, and probably rightly so - as their contributions and instincts are highly valued, they are often extended positions of political power as a matter of course. You found out later, though, when you really started wondering about women, how their additional wealth is attained - given their relative scarcity, even a share of a woman's divided attentions, or a right to be a permanent member of her consortium, was something that most men heavily competed to pay, and with the financial support of several dozen eager, half-awed suitors, a female life was one of comfort and influence. Most, in fact, considered it to be superior in nearly every way - hence the term ascending, as if being a woman was somehow on a higher plane.
Not everyone, though, could attain such a thing. As you learned in school, due to a strange quirk early in the evolution of your species, every single pup is born effectively male, with no exceptions. And while it is true that all of those males have a certain structural potential to adapt - the ascension slits in the base of the pelvis above the scrotal sac, for instance, or the unsheathed penis, scrotum, and groin patch that were all devoid of fur to more easily facilitate the change - they could only do so under certain circumstances, with a certain trigger.
It was only in the days leading up to today, though, that you and your friends learned about what that entailed. You, and everyone else in line, would be asked to strip down and stand together in the assembly hall, as the change was brought about as an adaptation brought on by a high concentration of male pheromones and an absence of female ones, an instinctive indicator of a need for them. The trigger, though, was a drink made from a mixture of thistle-like plants, which contained an obscure and little-consumed amino acid, but one that is the final key in completely unlocking your species' sexual maturity. For most males, drinking it unlocks a pathway to full adulthood that allows for an erection to be sustained rather than brief and transitory.
For those rare few whose potential activates, however, it is the first step of their ascension - a rapid-fire series of physical and physiological changes that occur at a speed and by a mechanism still baffling to scientists. At the end of it, though, they are biologically female, even to the extent of different active genes at the core of their DNA, ready to accept the instant awe, appreciation and love of their peers.
As such, you know that you are looking forward to today mostly with a sense of hope - you're a little shorter and slimmer than your peers, something that Nazami seems to believe creates a much higher chance of ascension, although your own research seems to indicate that height, weight and build are no more indicative than anything else as to who ultimately transforms. More than anything, though, it is the anticipation that gnaws at you - the desire that, whatever happens, you are desperate to know either way. That is why, when you look forward and finally see the doors swing open in front of you, it is with a certain sense of relief that you surge slowly forward with the rest of the line. Soon, the moment of truth will be at hand.
You walk through the door and towards a table, where a man scans the ID implant in your wrist and nods accordingly, waving you through. Ahead, there is a pulse-wave sanitizer booth, and you get in as instructed, first stripping off the light, plain clothing that all of the boys in your group were issued for the day's events. Standing still atop the markings on the booth's floor, you feel the quick, sharp pulses of light and sonic pressure ruffle your fur and pelt the skin beneath, ensuring a clean start to the day's events.
Once the booth finishes its cycle, the door on the other side opens, and you walk down a narrow hallway towards the assembly room proper. You see a few others walking nearby, but none of you are particularly ashamed by your nakedness - growing up in the common-houses tends to quickly erase any sense of modesty along with any true hope of privacy, and at the moment at least, there is no one to see but boys like yourself.
You walk into the assembly room, but only a few people have arrived so far, milling about in the center. The room is large but mostly empty, with a rubberized material on the floor that is spongy and resilient beneath your feet, with ceiling fans whirring overhead, several mattresses arranged in a widely-spaced grid below, and a handful of gurneys and medical personnel standing by along the sides. You know why they're there, as it was carefully explained in the preparation for this event. The catalyst is a curious fluid - for those with potential, it begins the transformation, but for certain others, it has a deleterious, even dangerous effect. Genetic screening can detect a proclivity for most of those reactions, and those who are susceptible are excused from taking part - however, it isn't perfect, and sometimes people slip through. That's why, you know, you're supposed to keep a close eye on your reactions after you take it. A surge of excitement in your groin and a quick, sharp buzzing in your head is the sign that everything is normal, and that you will remain a guy, albeit a fully activated one. On the other hand, if a feeling of warmth starts spreading through you and you feel your legs going weak, it means that your ascension is beginning, your body automatically flooding your nervous system with a natural anesthetic and involuntarily relaxing your muscles so that you won't do anything rash or problematic while you are in the throes of transformation. And if your vision starts blurring or going double, and your hands start shaking uncontrollably, whoever notices is supposed to flag down a paramedic immediately - if that happens, you're probably in trouble, and likely to descend rapidly into violent, seizing convulsions until the anti-amino serum is injected to counteract your body's life-threatening reaction. You know about that risk, but are not particularly worried; your genetics check out, and there were no additional warning flags, as others with similar genetics had also never had issues with the catalyst.
You hear someone call your name behind you, and you turn to see Nazami walking over. Alongside him are Darrent, Coire, Kenselda and a few other boys from your extended group of friends. It is admittedly a little bit unusual to see them all naked, but not really more unusual than being so yourself. Clothes or not, Nazami still looks good, and you have to admit so do Coire and Kenselda, who take after Nazami in overall build if not in fur color - Coire has white-flecked grey fur and a thin, nervous tail, while Kenselda is more cream-toned, with a tail that is considerably fluffier than average. The only particularly noticeable things about brown-furred Darrent is his height, at least half a head taller than most of the other boys except Nazami. Of course, it's a little hard to evaluate them seriously in the nude, as it's hard not to see their flaccidness flopping about as they walk - at the moment, at least, the situation hardly feels like one to get aroused in. You imagine, though, when it comes to women, that such a sight is a rare thing indeed - given the chance to be naked in the presence of one, you can't think of any guy who would let their body pass up that kind of opportunity.
"Well, here we are," Coire says as he approached, rubbing his hands together in an anxious motion as he looks around. "Damn, that's a lot of guys. Sure hope we have something better to look at soon." He glances between you and your other friends, winking. "Heh, present company excepted, of course."
"I'm sure there will be," Darrent replies, as you feel him loom over you as he stops next to your side. "I checked the stats, and the proportions have been similar for like the last five years or something. I doubt it's gonna be anything like that fluke a decade ago, when something like only three people ascended. Man, that must have been rough... it ought to be fine, though. Not that I'm getting my hopes up or anything, myself..."
"Hey, you never know," says Nazami, as he stops a few feet away from where you are. "Could be any of us. Crazier things have happened, right?"
"Well, we know who the odds-on favorites are," Rhirion says, poking his head in before squeezing in to make a place for himself along the loose circle that all of you had naturally ended up standing in. A little shorter and stockier than you, covered in short, white fur dotted with the occasional golden fleck, you know that he's probably one of them. That being said, though, he's looking right at you as he says it.
"Yeah," Nazami replies, shrugging. "Assuming it's any of us at all... No matter what happens, though, I think this is gonna be a good day."
You look around, noticing that most everyone appears to have filed in, standing around in loose groups of friends and acquaintances scattered about the assembly area. Walking among them, you notice, are several adult men, ones who are actually clothed, carrying around trays to each of the various groups.
You notice one coming in your direction, and a moment later an adult you don't particularly recognize jostles his way into the circle, carrying a tray.
"All right, then. We're getting started now, so..." He trails off, extending the tray, upon which are a dozen clear classes filled with a milky, white liquid. "All the pageantry and stuff was yesterday, and as they probably told you, we like to keep this part low-key, as things will get hectic enough in a bit. Each of you, grab one of these and get ready - in a minute or so, a chime will sound, and when it does you need to drink it all down in one go. You have any problems, call one of the medics, but otherwise, just wait and see what happens..."
Nazami reaches over to pick up one of the glasses, but pauses for a moment as he does so. "Hey, mister, you've staffed these a bunch of times, right?"
"Yeah, I guess..."
"So, in all those times, you have a pretty good idea of the type of people who change, right?" He gestures around your group with his free hand. "If you had to predict which one of us is likeliest to change, who would it be?"
The man just shakes his head. "I know everyone always thinks there is, but there really isn't any pattern. It's random as far as I can tell; it really could be any one of you. Really, though, just think of it as some people here getting one sort of bonus, while everyone else gets another. Nobody loses - even if it doesn't happen, you'll still leave here and go back home at the end of the ceremony the same good people you always were, with the same potential for success, and with a little something more than you came in with no matter what. Everybody wins today."
"Fair enough," Nazami replies, retrieving his glass, and the rest of you do the same. You look at the glass in your hand a little dubiously - the liquid within looks slimy and thick, somehow not very refreshing at all, and gives off a weird, almost musky aroma with a cutting edge that manages to distinguish itself from the male scents that are already heavily present within the assembly hall. You hope that its taste, at least, offsets its other unappetizing attributes.
The man walks off, as you notice the others in your group eyeing the concoction dubiously. "Somehow," Coire says, rotating the glass slightly in his hand, "I get the feeling I'm going to be glad this doesn't come in multiple doses..."
A light, clear chime echoes through the room, and you gulp air nervously as you feel a shock of anxiety tense across your chest. This is really it, the moment of truth, and while one part of you really wants to do it, really hopes that something will happen, another part of you is worried about just how much things have the potential to change, and how you have no way of knowing how you'll react to them. Theoretically, this is all voluntary, and no one would fault you for setting the glass down and walking away, although you've never heard of anyone who has. The payoff, after all, is so great that it would seem foolish not to, and you know that you couldn't live with yourself if you don't give it a try. You know that you need to find out, need to take the chance, but it takes another moment as you watch the other boys downing their glasses for that doubt to fade away and your resolve to firm. There is no question that you want this, no matter how it shakes out. You make one more nervous gulp, raise the glass to your muzzle, and with the next gulp you willingly step forward into the unknown.
The texture of the liquid is as you anticipate - it swishes slimily across your tongue, taking on an exotic, medicinal flavor with a subtly sweet aftertaste that thankfully tempers it. You feel the liquid coating the surface of your mouth and throat as you gulp it down, and you can sense it settling heavily in your stomach.
You stand their, your gut feeling vaguely unsettled, as you watch the rest of your group to see how they react. So far, though, nothing much seems to be happening in any direction. In the next group over, though, you hear a weird little sigh, and look over to see one of the boys wobble and slump over as his legs give way, the other boys quickly catching him and closing in around him - or, rather, soon to be her. To the other side, you hear a thump, and then the staccato drumming of someone flailing uncontrollably on the floor, a scene you intentionally try to avoid watching as you hear the footfalls of the medics rushing hurriedly over.
You see a quick, sharp movement in the corner of your vision, and notice Nazami shaking his head rapidly, placing his hand on the bridge of his muzzle and groaning slightly, his penis inexplicably stirred into a sort of halfway-erect form. "Wow, that feels weird... like biting into an ice cube that's got electricity inside it or something. That's a clear signal, though - pretty sure that means no ascension for me."
Coire is rubbing at his head, too. "Damn, that feels weird... I mean, it's not that bad, but yeah, no mistaking that. Hope you're not too disappointed..."
"Nah, man. Only way I'd be disappointed is if no one here changes." He looks over at you. "You feel anything yet?"
You shake your head. It's true, though - you don't feel much of anything either way, aside from that strange queasiness that seems to be spreading its way uneasily through your abdomen. At least you haven't started to flail about, which is better than nothing, but it is frustrating that your state is still somehow in limbo. You continue watching as, one after the other, the boys shake their heads and become semi-erect, until it's somehow down to just you and Rhirion, and all of a sudden you start wondering whether Nazami's theories might actually have something to them...
"This is weird," Rhirion says, running his hands along his chest. "We should be feeling something by now..."
Indeed, as you look around, most of the other groups have coalesced, crouching down to surround one of their own as the changes begin, and a couple of groups where apparently no one changed begin to dissolve, their members seeking out other groups with something interesting going on.
You look back at Rhirion as the rumbling in your gut begins to subside, replaced by a sense of relief that the discomfort is over. Rhirion finally shakes his head furiously, and while it's a little disappointing after all that delay, you feel like you're able to relax a little more, and you start to feel good again, no longer having to wonder what to expect. Oddly enough, though, the relaxation intensifies beyond what you would expect, and you realize that what you're feeling isn't just some relief from the tension. You feel good, better than you have in a while, without the slightest bit of pain or tension within you. In fact, you realize a moment later that the relaxation is so profound your limbs are no longer particularly interested in moving. As you finally realize what is happening, even as you wonder why the supposedly telltale feeling of warmth never arrived, your legs suddenly have no interest left in standing; you feel your muscles give a jellylike wobble before buckling at the knees, and you begin to slump forward towards the ground.
You don't fall very far, though. Nazami notices immediately and springs forward from your side with an athletic grace, gently catching you in his arms. You feel a gentle thrill as your fur rubs together, the warmth finally blossoming out from your chest and flowing gently down towards your hips, and there are suddenly a dozen hands on your body as all the boys in your group converge around you, supporting your partially immobilized form as they gently and slowly lower you down on to the nearby mattress and roll you onto your side. Your body takes over from there, naturally curling up into a comfortable position with your tail arching up to lay along the curve of your back, one last burst of motion before the painlessness and relaxation flood their way through the rest of you, the focus of the room seeming to go soft at the edges of your vision as you enter a state of warm, complete calm. It doesn't feel like you're immobilized, so much that every part of your body is pleasantly heavy, so heavy that you don't feel the urge to move anything at all, aside from the gentle rise and fall of your chest.
The room seems to darken a bit, and you lazily look up, your eyes seemingly the only part of you still light enough to move, glancing along the wall-to-wall fur and the sea of faces looking down at you. You know, now, that the changes are about to begin, and as a result, for your group at least, you are now the center of attention. The faces looking down are fascinated, rapt, almost reverent, as they all wait, quiet and still, to watch the transformation - and knowing how easily you could have been in their place, you are content to let it happen, although in your current state you can't really direct them either way. Instead, you look back down along the shape of your curled-up form, feeling a strange sort of tingling sensation begin to creep down it as you sense the changes beginning within you, and then suddenly a lot of things begin to happen, dramatically and very quickly.
The first thing you feel is the fur rippling along your neck and then down across your body, somehow growing and transforming before your very eyes, each individual hair growing longer and finer, and the fur overall rapidly looking plusher, sleeker, and softer. You can feel it cradling your body even more closely than it did before, wrapping it in an additional cloak of warmth that quickly suffuses you and joins with the existing sensation in your belly. Even as it does, though, you can feel a second wave of sensation pushing in underneath the first, pinpoints of heat and sensation pulling outward from your chest and abdomen, and just as quickly as the fur had settled, it begins to stir again. This time, it seems to push apart, and the sensitive pinpoints resolve themselves into a series of bright pink dots that rise above them. Instead of the tiny nubs in you male form, barely even noticeable beneath your fur, within a matter of moments they have nearly completed their swelling into thick, domed female nipples, each one nearly as big around as your smallest finger, the soft pink flesh swelling to a vivid intensity at their tips. You marvel at their presence, clearly and indelibly marking you as a woman, even as things stir lower down to continue the transformation of both form and function.
Feeling a strange, inward tugging sensation, you look down, and can actually see your balls shifting within their sack beneath the flaccid form of your penis, which already seems to be shrinking slightly inward now that its presence is superfluous. You watch as they tug up towards the base of your pelvis, feeling only the slightest bit of pressure through the natural anesthesia as they push insistently in, and you hear two slight, almost simultaneous popping sounds as the ascension slits perform their intended purpose, the tension releasing as you feel your testicles pulling up into your groin. You somehow stay aware of them, two directed areas of warmth within your belly, feeling them separate as they shift upwards, settling into a place that somehow feels precisely right for them on either side of your belly. As they do, they seem to connect into something, and you feel traces of heat curl and coil low in your belly, intensifying the surrounding warmth as they do something to the surrounding flesh, molding, shaping, creating and activating things as a new sense of something within you springs to life.
As your insides continue to shift, though, the tugging sensation continues, and you watch as your shaft becomes ever shorter, somehow sliding back in, even as its base angles ever further downwards, and by the time the last bit of shaft is disappearing beneath the surrounding skin, the head is effectively centered down between your legs. It is only the nature of how you are curled that allows you to see it at all, you think, but after a moment you realize it is more than that - even though it wasn't as obvious, you realize that other parts of you have also been changing, muscles slimming and reshaping, to leave a triangular window between your groin and thighs through which you can observe the rest of the transformation taking place.
You watch as the flared, mushroom-like head of your penis settles in against your flesh, feeling a slight emotional pang at its loss even though the calm, despite the fact that it had never served any real function beyond its most obvious one. Still, even as you watch the soft flesh of your scrotum begin to wrap around on top of it, swaddling it until it is hidden from view, you can't help but feel a little disappointed that you will never get to feel what it is like to have it inside someone. On the other hand, though, as you feel it drawn within you in a sea of soft, snug warmth, you are aware that in return, you now have the chance to experience what it feels like from the other perspective, an experience that far fewer people are given the opportunity to have. Besides, you quickly realize that it is not disintegrating entirely - even as most of the shaft seems to relax and soften inside you, feeling like it is spreading out from within with a sensation that feels eerily like fingers pulling apart and stretching away after coming out of a tightly-clenched fist, the head seems to still remain; you can sense its presence, hot and still keenly sensitive within you, resting low in your pelvis even as the spread remnants of the rest seem to flow back together into a thick line that tugs upward to join up with the other new sensations in your belly. As that part of you settles into place, you feel the head nudge forward, tighter and more concentrated somehow, to slot comfortably into place against an area set aside just for it along the soft, pliable flesh, feeling it nuzzle in not too far below the surface of your groin and sit poised, tingling and thrilling gently as it awaits its new and improved purpose.
The flesh of your scrotum, you notice as the internal feelings subside a little, is no longer loose and wrinkled but pulled taut along your groin, stretching out to all sides once the head had subsumed beneath it. As you watch, though, the flesh melds and gently ripples, and you feel a weird burst of tension as the line of heat within you seems to make contact and somehow fuse against the bottom of your pelvis. At the same time, in the middle of your crotch, you see a single, dark pinpoint form, and the flesh around it seems to react as though it was a pebble impacting the clear, still surface of water, ripples undulating out to the space where flesh meets fur, before reverberating back to bunch up around the slowly expanding opening. Within moments, the flesh has built itself up around the nascent opening, a trio of thick, plush pads of flesh colored a deep, vivid crimson within the surrounding pink. The one cradling the bottom of the opening is the thickest, while the two above and to either side curve gently upwards so that the tip of each one runs just barely parallel to the other at the top. As you watch, they swell inward to cover up the black dot of the opening, revealing just a deep, red dimple at their very center, keeping the inner parts of your new form secure beneath them until they are called for.
You feel a few other things continue to shift within you, musculature changing and adapting slightly, subtle shifts throughout your limbs and along your muzzle. Everything about you begins to feel subtly softer and more comfortable, and as the overwhelming relaxation in your limbs finally begins to lift, you feel a surge of warmth blossom out from the new presence in your belly. It sends happy little tingles tracing down your extremities, and a hotter, more substantial sensation that seems to settle in heavily between your hips, and even as you raise your arms and stretch out your newly feminine form, you feel an excited thrill as a comfortable tension begins to build there.
Part of you wants to stay curled up, and you are momentarily happy to indulge it, purring within the comfortable softness of your newfound form. Soon, you feel a hand on your shoulder, and you look back up into the sea of faces, feeling a lazy smile spread across your muzzle. You don't know if it's still the lingering effects of the natural anesthetic that carried you through the transformation, or the sudden surge of female hormones flooding through your feminized body, but all of a sudden everything feels perfect: no pain, no fear, just a sensation of perfect comfort, of deep, abiding love and warmth. Instead of feeling strange, as you'd imagined, every part of your body feels right, and you feel completely satisfied within your transformed fur, everything snug and tight and tingly inside you.
Other hands reach down, caressing your fur, each gentle stroke making things feel even better as the comforting sensations seem to trickle down into your belly. You hear the boys above you gasp in awe as they carefully explore your new form, staying away from the new, sensitive areas as they marvel at your fur's feminine softness. Nazami's face is especially rapt, and unlike the other boys who are still playing their eyes over and over along your transformed body, his eyes quickly lock with yours, an elated smile spreading across his face.
"I knew it would be you," you hear him whisper above you, a sense of genuine love in his eyes. "I never really told you, but I've been dreaming of this day for so long..."
You look back, returning his smile, even as you realize there is something subtly different about him. You break his gaze for a moment, looking down along his body, and quickly realize what it is. Even though he is kneeling, his back is straighter than normal, his body seeming to strain with an unusual sense of tension that is quickly explained as you look lower. His own unquestionable transformation complete, he is now fully erect in a way that you've never seen anyone, including yourself, be before: standing fully at attention, angling up and out from his body, red and thick and solid from its flaring point to the bulge of the knot swelling gently out near the base. You feel a momentary surge of jealousy at his accomplishment, one that you know you will never achieve now, but that notion also seems completely irrelevant as the sight of him stirs another sensation that almost seems to literally drown it out. Seeing it ready for you, and being well aware of its purpose, you feel another intense flush of warmth settle in between your legs, feeling the first rivulets of moisture cooling gently against the hot pads of your spade, enveloping the inner edges with a comfortable slickness as your body begins to clearly and overwhelmingly signal its readiness.
Your body feels ever more hungry for the gentle, caressing touches that continue to stroke across it, your arms and legs tingling happily from the stimulation, and the strangely intense sense of love and well-being continues to pulse deep within you as your body thrills with anticipation. You begin to feel your heart pulsing in your chest, and with each breath in you become keenly aware of the male scents around you in a way that you never did as a boy, each one close and deep and irresistibly musky, the complex scents even more intensely arousing than the sight of all your friends clustered around you, watching your every reaction with awe and wonder, and waiting for you to open yourself up to them.
That, admittedly, was a part that you had wondered about before, back when it was being explained the night before. What the man had said earlier about everyone winning, in a way, was true: being present at the assembly hall wasn't only about being chosen. As women were in short supply, and only certain men would be able to obtain access later on, it was seen as a fundamental fairness that those who participated would also share in the good fortune of their peers who ascended, and an initially equal chance to have their genes carried on. Even if they did not ascend, at the very least each one of them would know the carnal embrace of a woman, and the opportunity for his seed to take root inside her. Of course, that also meant that the task of each newly transformed woman would be to take on each of her peers in that manner, just as you tacitly understand that one after another, by the time you leave the assembly hall, each one of your friends will have been inside you. Before, such a notion had seemed completely alien, albeit one you hadn't much dwelled on, not quite sure how a newly transformed woman still getting used to her own body was supposed to be able to handle having those parts of her used so relentlessly and in such rapid succession. Lying there, though, looking up at their eager faces, it all seems to make sense. Your body feels just right instead of uncomfortably alien, thrumming with a deep arousal and unquestionable readiness, completely at ease under the touch of people who you trust implicitly and who you know will do you no harm, being with you gently and lovingly until your needs are met and your desires are exceeded. Within that deep sense of love that seems to encompass all of them, and which your soft-focused vision sees reflected back to you in all of their faces, comes a clear and doubtless confidence in your readiness. Your form is complete and perfect, and you know that you would not have been asked to do what your body could not handle. Somehow, you can sense the resilience within you, every part fully primed and ready to accommodate each loving ministration that awaits you.
You sit up, stretching languidly as you look lovingly around your assembled audience, arching your back to prominently display your rows of feminine nipples and enjoying the boys' focused gazes upon them. Then you slowly recline, feeling hands reach out from behind to gently support you, spreading your legs out to either side to reveal the slick, puffy spade between them. You hear a few of the boys whistle in amazement at the unobstructed sight, as you reach down and run a finger along the curious new structure. The pads feel meaty and squishy beneath your finger, yielding gently to your touch before springing back as your finger moves on. The touch is stimulating, but in a dramatically different way than how your penis had felt during the few times you'd tried to do anything with it. Instead of immediate, intense and arousing, the touch is more subtle and intriguing, causing less of an immediate reaction and more of an additional stirring sensation as what lies beneath it seems to come further to life. Of course, as a result of the transformation, you are now aware that those more sensitive parts are now tucked away somewhere deeper inside you, and for that intriguing sensation to be amplified into something more directly stimulating, you will need to have something in there rubbing against it. At the moment, though, it is less an issue of having something at hand, and more an issue of choosing from an abundance of options. One look at Nazami, though, and you know that the decision will be easy, and without complaint - after all, each one of the boys around you is more than well aware that it is a matter of when, not if, their time with you will come.
You point at Nazami, and even though most everyone else seems to think it was a foregone conclusion, he looks down at you in surprise.
"Y-you want me... to be your first?" he asks, suddenly looking a bit nervous. "I would be... I'd be more than honored..."
You nod, and watch as most of the other boys step back, the few remaining looking perhaps ever so slightly jealous as they ask if they can help assist you in taking on the position you want to join with Nazami in. You try to focus on the position charts you were shown the night before, even as another flush of tension and readiness surges between your legs, settling on a position they'd referred to as the "upright embrace" - somehow, you know that you want your first time to be face to face, held as closely and warmly as possible both without and within.
The boys gently lift you up, their hands on your thighs and lower back, allowing you to relax comfortably back against their chests and revel in their warmth. As they were shown, their hands don't hold you in place or pull you into position, only gently supporting you and moving to anticipate your own motions as you spread your thighs outward, lowering your posterior slightly and letting you rock your hips forward, your spade coming level with Nazami's hips as he slowly steps forward, tilted at just the right angle to receive him. You feel the fur along his waist brush gently along the fur of your thighs as he moves in close against you, and then the heat of his tip as he rests it lightly along the edge of your spade's uppermost point.
"Are you ready?" he asks, already breathing heavily in anticipation, and you feel your heart flutter in your chest as his proximity makes everything strike home. This is no longer some vain, long-shot hope; this is happening, you are really, blissfully female, and in mere moments the last lingering doubts about the reality of your situation will be cast aside as your handsome, loving, dearest friend brings you undeniably into womanhood in the clearest possible way.
You nod your head, spreading your arms wide open to either side to receive him in your embrace, although the more curious part of you drifts your gaze down, away from his eyes and along your own form to the place where you will soon be joined.
You both see and feel him as he reaches down and guides the tip lower, although once it is past the outer edge it becomes obvious that little manual guidance is necessary, the slick surface and natural slope of the pads pulling him in naturally towards the center. Then he pushes his hips forward against the pads of your spade, slowly but insistently, and you feel a wonderful stretching sensation radiate out from their center as they yield eagerly; the shaft of heat melding wonderfully with the warmth inside you as you feel him slide in, the soft, pliant flesh of your inner walls thrilling at the slow, intent, irresistible stroking sensation as the flared ridge of his head rubs against them, stoking a comfortable tension that nudges your inner walls to nestle in snugly around his shaft. You wrap your arms around him as your bodies come together, feeling the impossible softness of his fur as it brushes against the sensitive surface of your nipples, enjoying the way that his hips shudder tremulously against you as he moans uncontrollably into your ear, thrilling at how overtaken he seems as your passage engulfs him, freely giving its surrounding, accommodating love. For a moment, you stay like that, embracing tightly, with just enough of a narrow space between you to look down to see the edge of your spade looking even puffier and slicker as the outer edge already stretches a little against the inviting shape of his knot nudging against it.
When you are finally able to slightly relinquish your tight, unrelenting embrace, both inside and out, he begins to move against you, your body naturally rocking back and forth in reaction to his movement - each slow, gentle stroke allowing you to feel every stimulating motion, every inch of him clearly. Your body responds by flooding additional warmth around him, allowing him to move within you even more smoothly, sensing him thrill along with you as each stroke seems to drive your inner walls even closer against him, the heat and the sensation of his movement feeling ever stronger. Alongside those feelings, further out, you can feel the comfortable stretching sensation as each stroke brings the knot in to nudge intriguingly closer and closer, tighter and tighter, priming it into intense readiness.
As intense as the sensation is for you, you can tell it is even more so for him, feeling him hold on to you tightly as he whines tremulously in your ear with an overwhelmed, desperate urgency. Between him and the boys behind you, you feel embraced from every angle, surrounded by lust and love in every possible way, and as safe as you feel within their arms you don't feel the slightest sense of surprise or fear, just a quick burst of thrilled anticipation as Nazami goes over the edge and suddenly thrusts in against you with all his strength.
The knot of your species isn't that big, there less as something to wedge inside you that can't be moved to ensure that you can't avoid breeding, and more something for the spade to latch onto and keep the man there at the woman's prerogative. As a result, when it goes in, there's no struggle at all, just a wonderfully intense stretching sensation between your legs as your spade welcomes it in, feeling the tip nuzzle its way up against something soft and deep even as the knot bulges against your inner walls, part of it stretching the folds of flesh apart around the slot you had felt your own tip nestling into before, the part that is now your clitoris pressing and rubbing intently against its hot, hard smoothness, a strange, impossibly intense silky sensation rippling over it and sending waves of pleasure radiating out through your hips.
You're not sure if you've just climaxed or not, but your entire body suddenly feels beyond amazing, thrillingly alive as a blissful current soars through it, your arms releasing their grip and your body relaxing against his chest as your insides seem to go on autopilot. You feel your spade clamp down hard against the base of the knot, causing Nazami to gasp as it holds him firmly in place, tugging him a little deeper inside. At the same time, you feel another part of you deep inside moving to settle into place around his tip, some sort of tight, squishy ring that quickly snugs in hard against it, pressing down intently as the tightening grip of your spade forces the two of them together until the ring nudges open to stretch around at least half of the flared head with a strange, excited shudder. As it does, you quickly realize that the soft inner walls are actually masking a considerable amount of muscle, muscle that quickly springs to life and sets the flesh rippling and pulsing against his shaft, each pulse rolling inexorably inward with a milking, stimulating motion, one that you are sure it is impossible for a male to resist.
It is only a moment before Nazami cries out, making the cutest little whimper, one that would have surely embarrassed him in any other situation, but one which you now find incredibly sexy, knowing how powerful it is to be able to bring him to such a point that nothing else matters, not even his pride. You feel him shudder against you, his shaft vibrating and straining against your walls, his balls pulling up to jump and twitch against the bottom edge of your spade as his tip seems to explode with a burst of heat, a powerful jet shooting past the stretched ring and into a deeper part within you, the warmth splashing against its surface and flowing down to settle comfortably deep in your belly, the first splashes gently pooling even as subsequent pulses flood in like waves crashing on the shore. With every few pulses, you feel a little accompanying spark higher up, as the sensation of the seed splashing into your newly formed womb causes the rest of the female parts to spring into action, converted testicles beginning their ovarian function and preparing to release the eggs hidden away inside them. Even amidst the waves of pleasure, it is an odd sensation, the knowledge that your belly will soon be filled with new life both disconcerting and exciting at the same time. That sense, however, pales at the love and wonder you feel as your body continues its deeply pleasurable throbbing, warm and secure and panting with exhilaration as your body finishes milking Nazami for everything he's got and sees fit to release him. He slides out easily, your spade and inner walls giving a few more pleasant twitches around the sudden emptiness between them, falling comfortably forward into his embrace as he pulls you away from the boys behind you and lays you gently back down on the bed, letting you nuzzle your head in against the fur on his chest and curl up against him, purring happily. Even as you do, though, you feel the hands of others return, and your deep, growly canine purring only intensifies against the touch. This time, you feel a hand drift down between your thighs, massaging your spade gently. You can't tell from your position if it is Nazami or another who is rubbing it, but it takes mere moments before the intriguing sensitivity and wet, surging arousal return. You know, as you feel it, that it is a sign that your body is more than up for the task ahead - you know that you will accept all those surrounding you gladly inside, surrounding them in turn with your own boundless love, and taking their precious gift within you.
You receive Coire next, feeling his presence as he hovers on all fours above you, glancing up as you nudge Nazami into rolling over and follow the motion, ending up on top of him. You feel one of Coire's hands rest gently on your waist, and you arch your back, allowing Coire to guide your hips up and back to meet him. As you sense the comfortable, stretchy feeling of his entry, you snuggle happily forward against Nazami's chest, enjoying his licks and nuzzles and unselfish embrace even as you cry out, happily and unashamedly, at the pleasure brought on by Coire's gentle ministrations. The second time goes as smoothly as the first, and in seemingly no time at all your body is clamped down around him, the undeniable, calming orgasmic waves of blissfully female pleasure flowing perfectly as your body gladly accepts each warm splash of his seed deep within you.
As soon as Coire is finished, another body is already in close to take his place, and one by one you gladly accept them all to share in the overwhelming love and comfort that seems to flow from every pore in your body. You are constantly surrounded by their warmth and gentle, reverent touch, snuggled safely within the arms of at least one as another exchanges embraces with you both inside and out, while yet another corrals and caresses your ecstatically wagging tail, only adding to the sense of being completely surrounded by love, comfort and pleasure. With every splash of heat into your womb, the sense of comfort and rightness increases, accompanied by a gradual, permeating relaxation as the needs of your new body are more than fulfilled.
As you were somehow able to anticipate, your new form allows you to accommodate everyone around you, their caring, respectful ministrations accepted without pain or discomfort. By the time the last of them finishes, Rhirion's diminutive form shivering in your half-reclined embrace as he pants desperately against your chest, the primary thing you feel is the sense of relaxation fading into a dazed sort of fatigue, one that leaves you snuggled up tiredly across Nazami and Kenselda's laps, trying to wrap your head around the whirlwind of emotions that have flowed through you over the past few hours, even as the aftereffects of more cumulative climaxes than you could have imagined leaves your mind in a hazy sort of afterglow. As you lie there, though, beneath everything else, you realize that the thing you feel the most is full, in a sense that is profoundly different than anything else you have felt before. The sensation goes beyond the cessation of a hunger, beyond satiation; it is a feeling that a void inside you, a void you never knew was there, has been filled to overflowing. It is something that is both physical and metaphorical, looking down your belly, you notice that the bottom part now has a slight curve to it, and you know it is because the part beneath has been gradually stretched to a greater and greater capacity by the volume of seed your combined suitors have deposited. The feeling of each spurt hitting against a bare inner wall had faded somewhere in the midst of it all, and even in the dazed aftermath of your final climax you could feel some of Rhirion's heat pushing back in a way that the others' hadn't, flooding back to fill and coat the thin space between your walls and his shaft with its sticky presence. Now, though, you can feel it all sloshing warmly in your belly with each subtle movement, held in place there with nothing left to push the tight ring below back open, your insides bathed with their combined virility. As you feel the results of the day settling inside you, you can't help but feel a strange sense of pride - you've only been a female for a few hours, but you've already easily completed the most important task that your new form can take on. Sinking into the embrace of snuggly bodies around you, you almost wonder if something similar is happening inside you at the most basic level, with your new eggs moving through your belly to be surrounded by a similar sort of love, male cells enveloping them in a million close, insistent caresses, automatically performing the dance of life until one of them moves in to merge completely, the beginning of a new litter that will soon be comfortably implanted in your womb. You think about the life growing, changing, thriving as your body nurtures it, and while the thought of it is alien, it is at the same time somehow strangely comforting. No longer is it your place to have one small, slim chance at perhaps creating a spark of like in another; now, the potential for life lies within you, and whoever you decide to further it with, your participation and the presence of your own genetic line will never again be in any doubt.
You hear other voices above you, the deeper sound of older males, and while the voices seem to echo back to you down a deep tunnel, you feel the boys shifting around you, setting you down gently against the mattress before pulling back. The sea of fur that has been everywhere around you since your transformation begins to part, revealing a handful of people milling around an otherwise empty room. Because your initial transformation had been inexplicably delayed, yours is apparently the last group to complete the initiation into womanhood - the only other woman you can see is a glimpse of one, clearly female posterior covered in jet-black fur, being helped by a pair of men through one of the side doors.
You look back over as your friends begin filing back towards the door, unashamedly admiring their forms as you begin to see them in a different light - no longer just boys, just friends, but full, complete men, men with which you have shared a new, deep, previously impossible sort of intimacy... each of them potential fathers, and some of them potential partners. Watching them go, their muscles rippling and buttocks swiveling through tight orbits to match their confident male gait, even as satiated as you are you can feel your toes curl slightly as you anticipate calling for some of them again.
Another shadow falls above you, and you turn your head to see a pair of men several years older than your friends, dressed identically in dark, smartly-tailored modern suits with crisp white shirts lightly straining against their barrel chests. As they notice you acknowledging them, they bend down onto one knee, proffering their hands to you as they explain that they have been tasked with delivering you to your immediate destination. You allow them to gently take your arms and lift you up, supporting you as you stand on still-wobbly legs, draping a loose, soft robe over you to obscure your naked form. You let them help you walk forward, your whole body heavy with exertion and exhaustion, your hips still twitching and your spade occasionally throbbing as every other step seems to trigger quick, thrilling aftershocks of pleasure within your well-stroked inner walls as they vaguely rub together, sticky and warm with the lingering products of your sex.
You are led down a hallway and to a garage, where several stretch limousines sit idling, hovering softly on a light cushion of air. Most of them are just about ready to go, but the leftmost one still has its expansive door open, and the men lead you over to it and let you climb inside. The interior is as plush and luxurious as you would have imagined, but the circle of padded seats has been instead replaced with a comfy-looking bed, upon which three other girls are already already curled, intertwined with each other and gently cuddly as they drift ever closer to sleep after the events of the day.
You climb onto the bed, shedding your robe at the foot of it as the others have, rolling onto your side and snuggling comfortably against the soft sheets and the bed's plush, pillowy surface, taking in the women cuddled together next to you. One of them has grey fur, while the others share your natural auburn, but all of them are similarly soft and compact in their new form, with sleek torsos and curvy, feminine hips that you know mirror your own. From your position, you can't see any of their faces, and are too tired to lift your head and find a new vantage point - even so, you wonder if they are anyone you knew back when all of you were boys, and how different their perspective is now.
You feel the car begin to move as you curl in amongst the covers, the sweet, keen feminine scents of the others wafting past your muzzle, intermingled with the deep, intriguing mix of male musk that you know permeates every inch of your collective fur. Somehow, the scent seems to make your position on the bed feel even safer and calmer, as your mind easily recalls the sensation of being completely enveloped in love that is now an indelible part of your mind and your experience. Amidst it all, you vaguely recall the brief explanation from earlier about where you are all headed: to a government-run mansion nestled into a secluded pocket of forest, where you will be provided with a comfortable existence and the finest prenatal care available, learning together with the other new women about your new, ascended roles as a significant portion of the next generation grows inside you. Then, once your all-male litters are born and eventually weaned, they will head off to the common-houses to be cared for, and you will be able to move forward, the initial obligations of your transformation complete.
And at that point, you know, drifting comfortably towards sleep with your newly feminine womb comfortably filled, the world and all its opportunities will be yours.