The Sex Gates

by Darrell Bain;Jeanine Berry

  I needed someone, too, but it was Rita I wanted, not Rez. I couldn't reconcile the man sitting beside me with Rita, even though I knew she was still there, inside that male body. I didn't know what to say, let alone what to do.

  “This is hard on you, isn't it?” Rez looked me straight in the eye. Rita had always been direct.

  “No more so than it must be for you."

  He shook his head. “No, I don't think so. I'll get used to it quicker than you will.” He patted one of my shapely thighs. “It will come, though. Spend some time with Donna. She'll help you along. Don't forget who I really am, though. I'm Rita. And I love you as much as ever."

  That was the thing. I still loved Rita, too, but I couldn't feel her presence like I wanted to, not when “she” was hidden in that male body. It was like seeing someone dressed up in a costume. You kept waiting for them to take it off and return to normal.

  We spent the afternoon talking and walking around the house, trying to get adjusted to our new bodies. After a couple of hours, I was able to converse more comfortably with Rez. For one thing, we were both experiencing adjusting to our new bodies, and our movements were often awkward and jerky, making us laugh together. It seemed like my breasts got in my way whenever I moved, and Rez couldn't seem to stop trying to brush back his nonexistent long hair.

  The third or fourth time Rez laughed at me, I glared at him, trying to look angry. He only laughed harder. “Think of me,” he said through a fresh burst of giggles. “I woke up this morning with an erection and didn't know what to do to make it go down."

  That almost floored me. “What did you do?"

  “Nothing. It went away after I sat on the pottie.” She giggled again, almost like a woman. “I haven't learned to aim straight yet, either."

  Now I had to laugh. I wasn't the only one having problems. Poor Rez wasn't used to a penis. And after I got used to looking at him, I could detect a faint sway of hips when he walked. He was going to have to correct that or gay men would start following him in droves.

  Russell and Donna joined us again after a few hours. Russell looked much better. “I'm going back to the lab,” he said.

  “Do you have to so soon?” I asked.

  “I want to. There are things I need to check up on. I'll be back in a day or two."

  He left a few minutes later after giving me a hug. I didn't let it last long. Every time either he or Rez hugged me, I could feel the yielding pressure of my breasts against their chests, a sensation I found disturbing.

  Rez went to bed early, sleeping alone in Russell's room. I remembered his remark about my needing to spend time with Donna. Besides, he knew as certainly as the wind blows from the north in winter that I wasn't ready to sleep with a man yet. I didn't know if I ever would be.

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  * * *

  Chapter Eighteen

  I woke up the next morning in the middle of a dream. I was a man again, and about to make love to Rita. As I came to conscious awareness, the dream vanished as soon as I recognized the body next to me. Donna's back pressed up against mine. I had an arm around her and my hand was cupping her breast. I think that was what woke me. It felt larger than it should, and I couldn't figure it out. Rita's breasts were larger than any of the other girls, and I couldn't imagine who else would be in bed with me. It took a few seconds to realize that Donna was the same size as ever; it was my hand that was smaller.

  If I hadn't needed to get up and go to the bathroom, the dream might have progressed on into reality. As it was, I slid my hand away and rolled out of bed. As usual, I was the first person awake. I stood there for a moment, looking down at Donna. The sheet had slid down around her hips, and her upper body was bare. I felt a sexual arousal surge through my body, making my breasts and thighs feel warmer than they should. Looking at her told me that my male mind was still working fine, but I couldn't help wondering if Donna found me attractive as a female. I thought it probably wouldn't be long before I found out, but right now I had to go.

  Donna was still making the decisions. After breakfast, Rez wanted to go on into North Houston to see Russell about his project, but Donna insisted that we go shopping for new clothes and accessories before he left.

  Rez took longer to pick out clothes than any man I had ever met, but I guess he came by it naturally, since he had spent all of his previous life as a female. Both Donna and I offered advice from the male perspective. It took three times longer to get him outfitted than I thought it should. I got impatient and even a little annoyed at the time it took him to select a few pair of jeans, shirts and jirts. Finally it was over! I breathed a sigh of relief when Rez left her bundles with us and took off for North Houston. I thought the rest of the shopping expedition would take only a few minutes. That shows what I knew about being a woman.

  After the booth took my measurements, Donna insisted on paying for a graphics program. Together we examined my image on the screen while it tried on every single garment we selected.

  I wanted to keep it simple, but Donna wouldn't let me. She kept saying, “No, no, Li. That won't go with your hair,” or “No, those don't match. Let's try another set."

  She made me buy some things in silkskin and velvetin and clingtight, even though I kept telling her I would never wear them. “Yes, you will,” she insisted, and I finally let her have her way. It was only money, and I had plenty of that, but I still didn't intend to wear them.

  I enjoyed the lingerie selection more, simply because I still couldn't identify the auburn-haired beauty on the screen with myself. I enjoyed seeing her get dressed and undressed again and again while Donna made the decisions. Again, I tried to pick out simple things, but she wouldn't let me. “Oh, no,” she would say. “This is much sexier,” or “Wow, wait until Rez and Russell see you in this!” I had no intention of walking around in front of the men wearing a few ounces of nothing; I knew how they would react, and I wouldn't blame them if they did. Personal experience told me how men thought when they saw a nearly nude female body, and I didn't intend to let them get bothered watching me when I wasn't going to let them do anything about it. I have to admit, though, she knew what she was doing. Every single garment made me look so sexy I was getting myself aroused.

  That gave me pause for thought. I could be raped now. The mere possibility made me shudder. I must never forget to carry my gun again.

  As soon as we were done shopping, Donna had another stop in mind. “Where are we going now?” I asked.

  “Last stop before home. We have to get you an implant."

  I stared at her in disbelief. Implant? I hadn't even thought about such a thing. “No. I don't think I'll be needing one."

  “You might surprise yourself. Besides, what if you got raped? Or someone slipped you some pheromones? It happens, you know.” A gentle smile tugged at her lips.

  I had already thought of the possibility, but not in those terms. I shuddered. What if it did happen, and I got pregnant? There were abortion pills, of course, but who wanted an abortion if they could avoid it? I followed Donna into the clinic.

  It was very embarrassing, since old Doc Tyler, who I had known all my life, insisted on a pelvic exam first. It was habit on his part, or the age-old doctor's reflex to do every test to avoid being sued. No new female fresh out of a gate needed an exam; she was invariably healthy.

  While my legs were up in the stirrups, Donna was in the examining room with me, holding my hand. I was glad she came along. Knowing that she had gone through the same procedure made it a little easier, although no less humiliating. Right then I would have liked to have words with whoever was responsible for designing the female body. That damn speculum was as cold as ice, and it seemed as if it was in there for hours. Tyson didn't talk much during the proceedings, except toward the end.

  “Would you like me to remove the hymen while I'm at it?"

  “No!” I was so damned uncomfortable I wanted him out of there.

  “Yes,” Donna said. She squeezed my hand
when I started to argue with her. When I didn't speak up again, he took my silence for assent. I felt a sharp little prick of pain, but not enough to really bother me. After that was over with, he used a little handheld injection gun to do the implant. He held it against my outer thigh. There was a snap like the sound of a rubber band thwacking a piece of paper.

  “Ouch. That hurt."

  “It's all over with. Don't have intercourse until after your next period and you should be as safe as a baby girl.” He laughed as he left the room. I didn't see anything funny, especially when he mentioned my next period. Next? I hadn't even had my first one yet, and I damn sure wasn't looking forward to it. I decided that no matter how much it embarrassed me, I had better ask Donna about the mechanics of coping with it before it snuck up on me and embarrassed me even more.

  * * * *

  Donna had bought a few things of her own while we were shopping, and after we returned home, she insisted that we try on our new clothes. I was curious about how they would fit and feel.

  Donna laid the clothes out on the bed. We undressed down to panties and began trying on our new outfits. The silkskin items surprised me the most. I could see where the name originated. The blouses and dress melded to my contours like a second skin, outlining the curves of my body like a perfectly fitted glove. When I ran my hands over my hips, it was almost like touching my own skin.

  The velvetin tops and trousers didn't cling quite so closely, but they felt like downy feathers caressing my body. I wondered why they never made men's clothing as sensual as these garments. Was it some macho thing that men wouldn't wear anything that was slinky or silky? I had no idea, but it gave me an idea for an article.

  I put each item of clothing away after trying it on, either in a drawer or hanging in the closet. I think I blushed when it came to the nightgowns. I felt like a transvestite again, especially with Donna whistling or making cute remarks when I tried them on. She had long since finished with the few items she bought, but hadn't gotten dressed yet. There was only one thing left to try and that was the bras Donna had insisted I buy, in several different styles and colors.

  “Now, let's see how you look in these,” Donna said, plucking one of them from the bed. I put my arms through the straps and tried to hook it in back. I quickly found that there was a definite technique to getting in and out of the damned things. She showed me how to adjust it, and guided my fingers and arms through several repetitions until I thought I could do it by myself.

  “You're doing fine.” She picked up the last bra. “Now this one closes in front. It should be easier to handle."

  Well, at least I could see what I was doing. I wondered why they didn't make them all like that. I thought there was probably some arcane female reason.

  “You look good enough to eat,” Donna said, stepping back to admire me in the new undies. I didn't know quite how to take that.

  “It needs just a wee bit of adjusting.” She stepped around behind me and did something to the straps in back then came back around to stand in front of me. “Perfect. Now let's see you take it off."

  I unhooked it. Donna was standing very close. All the time we had been dressing and undressing, my eyes kept straying to Donna's seminude body, and my male mind kept telling me to take her in my arms and smother her with kisses. There's nothing so stimulating to the male mind as a woman dressed only in a pair of low-cut panties, with her breasts bare.

  She saw the way I was looking at her, and took a step closer. My breasts brushed against hers, and I felt my nipples hardening, a sensation somewhat like two tiny erections at the tips of my breasts, and spreading a suffused warm fullness to them. I felt the muscles in my belly tighten and the insides of my thighs ached. I put my hands around her waist and pulled her to me. Our lips met, hers already open and willing, an entrance to the liquid dance of her tongue.

  Donna let me lead, understanding perfectly that my mind was still locked into the male mode of making love. I eased her down onto the bed and began caressing and kissing her as though nothing had changed between us. I kissed and fondled her breasts and ran my hands over her body until she was moaning with anticipation. I slid her panties off and removed my own. I let my tongue wander down the smooth length of her body, stopping at the juncture of her thighs. She spread her legs eagerly. My tongue touched the little button buried there. I felt her fingers moving through my hair, then grasping at my neck and shoulders as her hips rose to meet my mouth, every muscle taunt. She held, held, stiffened, and cried out again and again.

  Donna's cries seemed to echo through my own body, sending undulating waves of tense, excited expectation coursing through me. As she sank back down, I moved up over her, between her legs. I was breathing as heavily as if I were running a race. I could feel the need inside of me, but I had no way to satisfy it. I became frantic for release, pumping my hips hard against her, almost crying with the need to complete the act. But I was missing the most vital ingredient.

  Finally, exhausted, still unsatisfied, I collapsed on top of her, tears in my eyes.

  “Let me,” Donna whispered. She rolled me off and began kissing me the same way I had kissed her, but she didn't spend nearly as much time. I had barely begun to thrill to the unusual sensation of having my breasts handled and caressed and feeling my nipples being sucked into her mouth when she left them and worked her lips down my body. I spread my legs open for her, and a moment later felt the exquisite touch of her tongue. Again I felt the rising, barely endurable excitement, but this time it went to completion, like a racing car finally topping a hill. I screamed as my whole body was engulfed in a shuddering, muscle-locking orgasm. I lost track of time, of light and darkness, of the whole universe.

  When I came back to my senses, Donna was up beside me again, gently caressing me with feathery soft fingers.

  “Wow,” I said. “That was like going over a cliff backwards and falling a thousand miles."

  Donna leaned over and kissed me. “Wait til you try it with a man. It's even better."

  “It couldn't be."

  “Mmm. You'll see.” She rested her head on my breast. I ran my fingers through her hair, thinking that it couldn't possibly get any more intense than what I had already felt. While I would never have willingly gone through the gate, I was now in the enviable position of knowing what both sexes experience with an orgasm. And as males have long suspected, the female orgasm is superior. It involves the whole body, whereas the regular male climax is mostly centered in the penis and groin.

  Later, we did it again. And again. I wished briefly that I could experience it with Rita as a female, but I quickly put that idea out of my mind. It could never happen. She was male, now.

  The thought wouldn't go away. What would it be like with Rez? Could I do it? I didn't know, but I decided that eventually I would have to try it, if for no other reason than that I loved Rita, her mind and personality, even if it was locked in a male body now. I owed him that much, anyway.

  Late that evening, Chief Martin called. We had to get dressed and plug in vision so that the recording of our testimony would be legal. It didn't take long.

  * * * *

  The man who attacked Rita was tried and convicted a few weeks later. He was a typical Fourth Worlder who got involved with drugs. Ironically, he was exactly the kind of person the shelter was intended to help. He never gave a coherent reason for his actions, which was probably just as well. Nothing he could have said would have brought our baby back, or given Rez and I back our own bodies. We were forced to testify at the trial—which was a nightmare for Rita—but none of us bothered to attend his sentencing.

  During those weeks, I gradually began getting used to the body I was wearing. The worse part was my first period. I hated the whole messy proceeding, but it wasn't as if I were alone in the world; half of humanity had the same problem. I slept alone those nights, insisting that Donna spend some time with Rez, and Russell when he was there. I knew that Rez would have sex with Donna. They had enjoyed themselves
when both were female, and Donna now enjoyed swinging in either direction. Besides, if I ever decided to have sex with Rez, I wanted him to have some experience first. No use having us both fumbling things up at the same time.

  Russell was seldom home; he was still spending much of his time on campus, working on that project he was so enthusiastic about. Rez made occasional trips in to check with him, and Donna managed to attend all her classes over the web.

  I began watching the news again, gathering data and anecdotes about the gates for possible stories to sell. There wasn't much new. The world was adjusting to their presence.

  The United States, France, and Australia were the only countries where the majority of the population accepted the gates with no strings attached, and tried to guarantee unimpeded access, the nationwide riots in America notwithstanding. They had mostly been triggered by Fourth Worlder frustration and racial tensions breaking into the open.

  In most other countries, control of one sort or another was attempted, without much success. The Germans, with their usual Teutonic thoroughness, tried a unique solution: they began building cement walls around each gate, then wiring them with powerful electric currents. As each barrier was completed, permits were required to enter. For once, the German people revolted against their bureaucrats. Organized mobs went from gate to gate, overcame the guards, and blew holes in the barriers. Finally, the government gave up and simply required permits, “in order to record sociologically useful statistics.” The citizens quickly went back to their usual obedient ways, paying the permit fees with no objections.

  I did a story on that last item, from the ordinary citizen's viewpoint and it sold pretty well, though my German stringer held Mary up for a hefty percentage of the royalties.

  On the rare occasions he came home, Russell looked tired again, and discouraged. His project, whatever it was, wasn't working out as quickly as he had predicted. One evening he came in as the three of us were finishing dinner. He threw his jacket into a corner and slumped down beside Donna on the big lounger.