Kirk XI

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In the morning, James Kirk showered, fixed his hair, pulled on his bra and panties and then wiggled into his little red uniform.  He fixed his hair again, then pulled on his boots and headed out to report to his new duty officer, Lieutenant Harriet Lubbuck.  His stomach knotted up once more of indignity of it all, assigned to Health and Morale.  A man with his skill set?  He’d taken advantage of Spock’s suggestion and gone to dinner with Chekov, and having a man with him had made all the difference.  But reporting for duty was something else entirely.  He couldn’t show up holding some man’s hand for support.

He arrived. Of course, Lubbock kept him waiting, so he sat primly in the outer office, knees together, hands in his lap.   Finally, Lubbock’s secretary told him he could go in, and Kirk got up and headed in, taking a position in front Lubbock, who was seated behind her desk.  Kirk stood at attention and said, “Captain James Kirk, reporting for duty.”

“At ease,” Lubbock said, looking Kirk over.  “Sit.”

Kirk sat and looked at Lubbock.  She had once been pretty.  He could see that, and she still had a certain attractiveness to her, though her face was etched with lines of worry and command, and her eyes were cold.  “Miss Kirk,” Lubbock said.  “Welcome to the Barbies.”

“Pardon me?”  Kirk said, surprised to hear the term come from Lubbock’s mouth.

‘Oh, I know what they call us,” Lubbock said.  “Don’t act so surprised.  In any case, you certainly fit the description.  You look like a Barbie doll come to life now, Captain.”

“You, too?”  Kirk said.  “Isn’t there anyone on this ship who isn’t obsessed with how I look? “I didn’t come here to discuss my appearance?”

“Your appearance matters very much.  I demand all of my staff dress and comport themselves with excellence at all times.   Your uniform is impeccable, but your hair is sloppy, and you will need to start wearing make-up.”

“Star Fleet does not–”

“I require all of my female staff members to wear make-up, Miss Kirk.”  Lubbock’s voice had gone cold, hard and commanding.  A bit of the West Texas accent she spent years hiding snuck back in.  “It is a part of a female officer’s proper decorum, and serves to help boost the morale of our crew.  You will not arrive to your duty station without proper makeup.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Lieutenant,” Kirk said, suddenly feeling nervous and afraid.  Lubbock’s tone triggered his training, and it was like one of the harem mistresses was giving him orders again.  ‘I’m sorry.  Please forgive me.”

Lubbock eyed Kirk, an amused little smile playing at the corners of her mouth.  “Well, I had heard you’d changed, but this is really quite something.”  She looked at him, pleased.  “Sweetie, we are going to get along fine as long as you remember to be a good little girl, is that understood?”

“Of course, Lieutenant,” Kirk said, his voice rising to a higher pitch, his speech pattern growing slightly more childlike in response to the command he be a good little girl.   His hands started fluttering as he spoke. “As you wish.”

“I’ve sent your duty schedule.  You’ll be training to teach yoga and dance aerobics at the gym, and assisting with party planning and hostess duties.”

This can’t get any worse, Kirk thought, but the smile on his face grew brighter. “Thank you, lieutenant.  I’ll do my best!”

“Of course you will. Report now to the gym.  Well, dear, that will be all.  Dismissed.”

Kirk stood, smoothed his skirt, and left.

Lubbock shook her head as she watched him walk out, his hips swaying from side to side, one arm dangling out in the most feminine manner.  So, it had been true.  The aliens had changed him and not just his body.

Kirk went to the gym.  He hadn’t been here since the change, and as he walked in he glanced through the glass to the free weight area and saw men– big, strong men, lifting weights, their bodies slick with sweaty.  One of them glanced at him and Kirk gasped and turned away, feeling his heart racing, his skin blushing.  He crossed over to the front desk for the fitness rooms, where the group classes were held, and soon he found himself directed to a fitness studio where a small group of women was stretching and chatting.  He saw the instructor and wanted to run:  Melody Gregorious, a pretty little Greek girl with a super tone, fit body.  He’d spent more than one night getting to know that body, and now he walked up, feeling like his breasts were ten feet in front of him.

Melody, who’d been talking to one of the students, turned and saw him and said, “Oh.  My.  God.  Are you seriously James Kirk?”

Kirk realize with a start that he was now looking eye to eye with the cute little woman, and he smiled and rolled his eyes. “Believe it or not,” he said, jarred by the realization he also now had a softer, higher pitched voice.  “It’s me.”

“You’re so pretty,” Melody said, looking at him, her face pained.  “I’m so sorry.  It must be terrible.”

Kirk shrugged, shaking his head.

“You were such a man, and now look at you.  You’re one of the hottest girls on this whole ship.  I can’t even imagine how hard it is for you.”

“I see there is still no filter,” Kirk said, realizing that all the women in the room had stopped and were listening.

“What?  Oh!  My god!  I’m sorry!  That was rude, wasn’t it?”

“Can we just maybe focus on the task at hand?”  Kirk said.  “I am here to train as an aerobics instructor?”

“Of course, sweetie.  Of course.  You can observe today, and maybe I will work with you after class.  It’s a lot of dance, modern but also ballet, so I am sure that will be new and uncomfortable for you.”

“Actually,” Kirk said, remembering, “I am a trained dancer.”

“You?”

“Yes.  it was part of my… service.”

His mind went back to that first day on the planet.  He’d been led to the harem quarters.  The door had swished closed, and he’d found himself surrounded by women, mostly young, some older.  They glanced at him and then went back to what they were doing.  He was just another girl to them.  One of the older women came up to him and said, “Come on.  Time for your training.”

Kirk followed, wondering what his training would entail, but not too worried about it.  Whatever they made him do, he wouldn’t be here long enough for them to ingrain any habits.  He was sure Spock would get him out.   The woman led him to a room and indicated for him to sit down in a padded chair with armrests.  The room was sparse, with just a screen mounted on the wall and a control panel with blinking lights.

Kirk laughed.

“What’s so funny?”  The woman said.

“It’s just– I find it ironic that harem’s have boring instructional videos, just like every other job.  That’s all.”

The woman only smiled and gestured toward the chair once more.

Kirk sat, and as soon as he did metal bindings sprung out, pinning his wrists and ankles.  “I’m not going to try and run,” he said, but then he felt a metal cap rise and snap into place over his head, and cold, metal probes press against his temples.  “What’s all this?”

“We don’t literally train our girls anymore,” the woman said, lighting a cigarette and going over to the control panel.  “We download everything directly into your brains.”

“Wait!  No!”  Kirk struggled against his bonds.

“Let’s start with that walk of yours.”

“No!  Please!”  Kirk said as his mind began to fill with images of women walking in bare feet, flats, heels.  If it was changing him, he didn’t sense it.  It just seemed like he was watching a montage.  The women all moved so gracefully, it was actually quite impressive.  He relaxed.  Maybe it didn’t work on humans.

“And your speech patterns.”

This time his mind was filled with the sounds of women talking, but all of them breathy and flirty, with high pitched voices like tea kettles.  Very sexy, and he felt calm and peaceful as he listened to them, even happy.  He had always loved the sound of women’s voices, anyway.

“And now, how to dance.”

His mind began to fill with images of women dancing, all different styles from all over the galaxy.  A warm calm came over him, and he even found himself smiling.  Dance was such an amazing art form.

“There,” the woman said, snickering, almost to herself.  “Now you love to dance.”

I always loved dancing, Kirk thought, smiling.  Ever since I can remember!  He imagined himself dancing for a room full of men, for his crew, and the thought thrilled him more than anything he’d ever felt in his life.  He loved dancing for men, driving them wild with lust, making them slaves to his gorgeous body!  It was the best feeling ever! dancerhappyfancy

He giggled as he imagined the whole thing.  The machine didn’t work!  There was no way they could change him!  He was James T. Kirk, and he always would be!

 

Boy Meets Girl

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Available on Amazon!

So, perhaps the scene that most separates Boy Meets Girl from other male  to female body swaps comes in the second episode, when Danny, now living in the body and life of Veronica, discovers her box of sex toys and decides to experiment with his new body.  Cut to him looking pleased and dazed, smiling, satisfied.

Later, he claims to find more pleasure using his “bunny” than he ever found as a bloke (the show is British).

And yet, the very same character, still identifying as a straight man, flees in terror at his boyfriend’s advances, and once he does allow himself to be pleasured by another man he is shocked and ashamed of what he allowed to be done.  So, he finds he is okay with having a woman’s sexuality and needs, but not to have them fulfilled by a man.  Later, he gets in a relationship with another woman and falls in love with her.

This show explores identity complexity beyond the it’s hard to put a on a bra, it’s hard to walk in high heels scenes we usually get (though we also get those scenes!)  Another fascinating development comes after the character has a nervous breakdown.  He starts drinking too much, rebels against his woman’s life, and starts telling everyone he is a man named Danny.  End result?  Mental Institution.

Finally, faced with electro shock therapy he feels will erase his memory and make him think he is and has always been Veronica, he relents and determines to be her.  He watches videos of her to learn how to talk and move like her, and he adopts as best he can a feminine persona, smiling, being sweet and accommodating, taking care of his hair, make-up and clothes, and learning to walk and move gracefully in his heels.

He tries, but he finds it hard, very hard, to be feminine, and ultimately comes to believe he can’t live like that, a feeling I suspect many women who watch this will relate to.  It is not being female he finds hard, but being feminine.   This problem also hits home with his boyfriend who doesn’t listen, pushing a marriage proposal on him and then completely ignored his body language and tone that clearly convey– I am not into this at all!  Like many women, Danny feels he is clearly conveying his feelings, only to be ignored.

So, there is some depth and darkness with the show.  I was a little disappointed with the ending– I love the tease, but the show just seemed to stop leaving a lot unresolved.  And, I would have liked more exploration of Veronica’s life as Danny, but all in all this is one to watch!

Now Available on Amazon!

 

Jumps and Spins: Figure Skating TG NOW!

Hey, folks!  My gender bender hockey player to figure skater story is now available!  It was super fun to write, and I hope you will check out the free sample, or just go ahead and buy it and read it!

I would love to see some 5 star reviews up there!   Or, just buy it!  My cat needs braces!

USA         UK       Germany      France      Italy       Netherlands       Spain     Brazil

Canada     Australia    Japan    India    Mexico

 

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Kirk VIII

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“I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Kirk said, sitting cross-legged on his bed in just his bra and panties, eyes closed.

“You need to look your best,” Rand said as she plucked another hair from his eyebrows, making sure they looked perfect.  “When you meet the new captain.”

Kirk shivered as memories of Finnegan’s pranks and bullying came back to him.  Half filled buckets of water on top of doors.  Cold soup in his bed.  And, as an older cadet, he’d forced Kirk to do thousands of push ups and sit-ups.  “He used to call me a sissy,” Kirk said, softly.  ‘I’d be straining, my arms like jello, chest burning, trying to get that 100th push up done, and he’d scream “you little sissy!  Do it, or I’m going to make you wear a skirt!”

‘Oh, honey!” Rand patted him on the knee.  “That was years ago.  I doubt he even remembers.  All done!”

“Thanks.”  Kirk got up and went to his mirror, frowning at the chic, slender brows Rand had given him.  He regretted it now.  It just seemed like a declaration of femininity, and every XX chromosome in his new body cringed at the thought of meeting his old enemy as a woman, because she knew what he would be thinking.  He adjusted his bra straps, reached in and adjusted his breasts, fitting them into the cups more securely.

Rand watched.  She loved seeing him get ready, fussing with his bra.  It even gave her a thrill to see him pick up his little red dress, stepping into, wiggling it up over his hips.   She smiled as she went over and put a hand on his hip, zipping him up, just the way she would do it if she were his boyfriend.  She kissed him on the side of his pretty head and said, “You need make-up.”

“Absolutely not,” Kirk answered, stepping away from her.  “It’s bad enough he stole my command.  I am not going to make myself pretty for him.”

“Pretty is power for a woman.”

“I’m not a woman.”

Rand looked at the swell of his breasts, his wide hips.   “If you say so.”

‘I do.”

She didn’t want it to end on a negative note, so she gave him a hug, then took both his soft hands and stared him in the eyes.  “I know you’re going to do great.”

Kirk smiled, eyes dropping to the side.  “Thanks,” he said.  ‘I mean, for everything.”

“Don’t forget your tricorder,” Rand said.

“Oh!” Kirk’s eyes went wide.  “i can’t believe I almost forgot it!”  He took the slender strap from Rand and slung it across his body, the strap settling between his breasts, the tricorder resting on his round hip  “Why Finnegan ordered me to start carrying one, I can’t even.”

I can, Rand thought. watching Kirk walk out the door, his hips swaying.

Kirk arrived at the Captain’s office.  His old office.  The secretary smiled at him when he walked in, and he was sure he saw some contempt in her eyes.  “Captain!”  She said.  “You look lovely!”

“Thanks,” he said, hiding his annoyance behind a bright smile.  Rand had  assured him it was normal for women to compliment each other, and he’d accepted that it was just rude for him to respond to such compliments with a shrill, Stop telling me I’m pretty!  Still, no one gushed with compliments like that for male officers, and if he was stuck as a woman, he felt that was something that needed to change.  “You’ve never looked better!”  He gushed back.  “I miss your smile!”

‘Oh,” she said.  “You.  The Captain will be with your shortly, dear.  You can take a seat.”

Kirk sat with his knees together, his tricorder in his lap.  of course, Finnegan kept him waiting, and he found himself nervously twisting his long blonde hair around his fingers.  At one point, he looked over to see the secretary watching him, an amused little smile on her face, and he felt girly and feminine and stopped twisting his hair, looking away in shame.

Finally, 10 minutes late, the door to Finnegan’s office opened and Errol came out, Finnegan slapping him on the back as he exited.  He looked at Kirk sitting there, knees together, and said, “Nice legs, cutie.” swaggering out the door.

Kirk cringed, but then stood up, knees together and without using his arms, smiling what he hoped was a confident smile– Rand had drilled into the importance of smiling regularly now that he was female– and meeting Finnegan’s eyes.  “Captain James T. Kirk reporting for re-assignment, Sir.”  The little girl voice that buzzed in his ears made him want to cry, and he had a flashback again of Finnegan forcing him to do sit ups, his abs burning as he strained, and Finnegan screaming, “10 more you pussy!”

Finnegan looked Kirk up and down, mentally undressing him, and then a smile spread across his face, pure shark, as he said, “Come into my office.”

Kirk clutched his tricorder strap with both hands, glancing at the secretary with a “help me” look.  She just smiled.

The lights in Finnegan’s office were dim, and the room smelled of cigar smoke and whisky.  As soon as the doors closed, Finnegan wrapped his arms around Kirk and held him, Kirk’s soft breasts crushing against the man’s hard, flat chest.  The hug went on too long, and Kirk wanted to break free, but he didn’t want to make Finnegan mad, and besides that his slave girl conditioning had habituated him to doing what men wanted.

Finally, Finnegan stepped away, letting his hand trial down Kirk’s arm, and then he looked Kirk up and down again, shaking his head.  “Whooo weee!  Are you ever easy on the eyes!  Wow!  And you’re James Kirk?  Or, you used to be?”

“Yes, sir,” Kirk said, trying to keep his voice calm.  “As a result of a transporter—”

“Oh, I read the report,” Finnegan interrupted.  “And Errol told me you were,” he made the hourglass shape with his hands, “but, I mean.  Look at you!  You’ve got jugs like a Bovanian Prostitute.”

“Sir?”  Kirk said, feeling like someone had punched him in the gut, his self-consciousness about his large breasts doubling as he struggled not to cross his arms over his chest.

“Cut the Sir, stuff,” Finnegan said.  “We’re old friends from the academy!  We have a prior relationship, right?  The rules are different for old friends. You want a drink?  I guess now it would be white wine?”  He kept looking over Kirk’s body, lingering on his breasts.

“No, thank you, Sir,” Kirk said, glancing back at the door, feeling claustrophobic, wanting to get away from this man, this situation, this woman’s life.  He tilted his head back to meet Finnegan’s eyes, but the other man was staring down at Kirk’s  breasts.  “Captain,” Kirk finally said, the frustration spilling over into his tone.  “I’m up here.”

“By the moons of Hordor, your tits are amazing, Kirk.  Guess it was all those push-ups, right?  Push UPS!”  He made a gesture underneath his own chest.  “What are you, a C cup?  Maybe a D?”

Kirk couldn’t believe what was happening, though he knew it happened all the time in Star Fleet.  He’d heard the guys talk.  And, truth be told, he’d bent the rules, flirting and having affairs with women all over Star Fleet, though he had never been this crude, disrespectful and — “You’re being a pig!”  He shrieked.

“Whoa!”  Finnegan said.  “Don’t let your panties get all twisted up.  Just having some fun with an old friend!  Wow!  You haven’t changed, have you?  Still no fun.”

“Sir, I’m sorry, I just feel awkward about my situation–”

“I bet you do.  Jimmie!  Those tits of yours!  Who wouldn’t feel awkward with those melons bouncing around? Am I right?  God.  Look at you!”  He laughed, slugging back a couple fingers of whisky.

‘Given my extensive experience and training, I believe I would best serve the enterprise as navigator, and–”

“Yeah.  No.”  Finnegan said, his eyes still roaming over Kirk’s body.  “That’s not gonna work.  I’m assigning you to Health and Morale.”

“The Barbies?”  Kirk said, feeling like he’d just been kicked in the stomach, resorting to the derogative term people used to describe the crew members, usually all women, responsible for planning events to boost morale as well as working in the fitness center.  They were all perky and cheerful, and mostly very blonde.  “I don’t know that I’m well equipped to be in Health and Morale.”

“You are very well-quipped now, young Miss Kirk.  Blonde.  Big tits.  All you have to do is walk down the hall in that short little dress and you improve morale for the guys.  And some of the girls, right?”

Kirk fiddled with his tricorder strap, struggling to speak out for himself, again fighting with his slave girl conditioning that made him want to shut up and obey powerful men.  “Sir, if I can–”

“Dismissed, honey.  But, my office door is always open to you.  So’s my bedroom door if you know what I mean.  Now, turn around so I can get a look at that caboose of yours.”

“But I–”

“Dismissed, young lady.  Now, out you go!”

“Yes, sir,” Kirk said, softly.  “Thank you, sir.”

‘I guess I was right about you,” Finnegan chortled as Kirk turned and walked away, feeling the man’s eyes burning a hole in his behind.  “You really were a pussy.  Or, at least you have one now, right?  Hahahaha!”

Kirk just took  a deep breath and plunged out the door, gasping with relief to be away from that man, that bully, that pig!  “That bad, hunh?”  The secretary said.

Kirk just sighed and shook his head.  “The less said the better.”

“Welcome to our world,” The secretary said, unable to resist the urge to take a little pleasure in seeing a man have to put up with — men.  “You’ll get used to it.”

“I guess. But is that a good thing?”

Kirk left the offices and headed back to his room, cringing, humiliated, ashamed.  How could he let a man talk to him like that?  Yet, what choice did he have?  Memories of past humiliations flooded into his brain, and time on the Shore Leave planet a robot Finnegan had appeared, tormenting him,  pulled right out of his wounded sub-conscious.  And now he was to be one of the Barbies planning parties and leading aerobics classes?  The whole crew would laugh at him now.  Why is this happening to me?  He wondered.  What did I do to deserve this?

Well, at least it couldn’t get any worse, he decided, and just then he felt a passing crewman reach back and pinch him on the ass.

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Hockey Player to Figure Skater.

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Stephen Spielberg once said that he begins with the assumption that every story has been told.  So, his goal is just to tell it better.

It is in that spirit that I set out to add my own addition to the hockey player to figure skater genre, which has been explored in both traditional and TG incarnations.  To start with traditional, we must begin with the classic skating romance, The Cutting Edge.    In this film, a tough guy former hockey player from a blue collar family gets one more chance to win gold.  The catch?  He must learn to figure skate and partner with a notoriously nasty and unpleasant young woman who is so annoying and hard to work with that not a single male figure skater on earth will partner with her.

The gender role issues come into play in various ways along with class.  The guy is ashamed of what he is doing and hides it from his family.  When he reveals his new life as a figure skater to them– under pressure– his uncle asks him “are you going to have to shave your legs?”

In the figure skating world, he becomes an agent of rebellion and change. He rails against the classical music his partner wants to use in their performance and which the movie portrays as standard to the feminine world of skating.  He demands they perform to rock music instead and wear more modern costumes.  Yet, the movie also reveals the skill and dedication that figure skaters possess, as he struggles to master the skating techniques needed, and we see the female skater take a beating when they try to learn a new move, getting up fall after fall, showing her toughness.

Yet, when they compete playing hockey, he clearly dominates her, enforcing the traditional roles.  Girls dance on ice.  Boys fight.

Flash forward to The Cutting Edge III however, and what do we see?  A total reversal as the male figure skater has to pair up with a female hockey player.

Ice Angel is a TG movie in which a hockey player is reincarnated as a figure skater and has to learn to accept and respect himself as a woman and a figure skater.  It’s actually pretty groovy.

So, here I go, and how will mine be different?  Well, my hope is that if I am true to myself and follow my gut, I will create something new within the genre simply by being me.  I have also done a lot of research, and my hope is that I can mix and combine elements from The Cutting Edge, Ice Angel and Ice Princess into something new and yet still true to the conventions of the genre.

Finally, I have a secret weapon: my frequent collaborator Anonymous, who always has some awesome ideas, and who commissioned this story in the first place.

Ultimately, though, what fuels this writing is one of my trust passions, and I hope to melt and destroy the notion that either activity, figure skating or hockey, has a gender.  In fact, both require hard work, sacrifice, pain and discipline.  And if you think figure skaters are more vain than hockey players, you haven’t met many hockey players.   Some of them spend as much time on their hockey hair as they do their skating.

Look for it in a week or so.  The title: Jumps and Spins!

 

Kirk VII

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Kirk walked back to his quarters, feeling shaken, the incident with Errol playing over and over in his mind.  The man’s hand on Kirk’s breast, his thigh, the unwanted kiss.  It made him shiver, and he hunched over, feeling self-conscious, vulnerable in his short dress, his long legs exposed, and the eyes of the men constantly caressing his figure.

Plunging into his quarters, he sighed with relief as the door wooshed shut, and he could finally relax, no longer feel embattled.  He sat down at his desk, knees together without even thinking about it, and tossed his long, blonde hair.  Who had done this to him?   He started to cycle through the names and faces, trying to figure out who had not only motive but means.  Nothing.

He checked his messages, he found orders to report to see Captain Finnegan that afternoon, as well as messages from Spock, McCoy, Uhura and Rand, all checking up on him to see how he was doing.  He realized he could still taste Errol, and he got up, disgusted.

How am I doing? He thought.  Terrible. He gargled some mouthwash, trying to get the taste of Errol out of his mouth.   Spit it out.  Gargled some more.  Then he thought he could smell Errol’s sweat on his body, and he didn’t know if this was all just female hysteria or not, but once the idea got into his mind he felt disgusted and dirty, so he took a quick shower, and then sprayed himself with some of his old cologne.  He felt like crying. Screaming.  How am I doing?  How do you think?

The only one he trusted to share his feminine struggles with was Rand.  They’d been… close before his change, and she’d been there helping him adjust to his new life even from the beginning.  The others, he needed them to continue to see him as the man he’d been, and would be again.

Should I ask Spock to help me investigate?  Kirk wondered.  The thought made him feel warm, and he imagined himself in Spock’s powerful arms, looking up into his–

No!  Kirk pushed the thought away.  He’d been struggling with his feelings for Spock, ever since, back on Rammerham, Spock had rescued him.

*****

The warrior had carried Kirk to a cell and unceremoniously plunked him on the floor.  He sat there in his little red uniform, staring at the long, shapely legs spread out before him, the small, dainty hands, the full, heavy breasts.  He was stunned.  It all seemed impossible.

After a time, he got to his feet, standing unsteadily.  His whole body felt wrong.  His legs were too long, he had what felt like a mountain of hair piled on top of his head, and of course there was impossible weight of his chest.  He walked around his small cell, trying to get used to the feel of walking in this new body, in these boots, these clothes.  He found himself tugging constantly on the short dress.  He felt naked.

The cell wasn’t much.  A cot, a toilet, a sink.  Looking up, he saw a camera following him around the cell, and he imagined the guards, the men, ogling him, and he crossed his arms over the swelling of his soft, new chest.

What had happened?  Why had he transported down in this body?  He looked in the mirror, and quickly looked away.  The face he’d seen?  It was– beautiful. Feminine.  Young.  It shocked him to see her with her big,  wide eyes, and full lips, and to realize that kissable face was him.

Death.  The guard had told him the penalty for a woman to speak was death.

Well, how am I going to get out of this one?  He wondered.  And where was his crew?  He examined the bars, looked for any means of escape.  Found nothing. He lay on the cot, trying to pull his dress down, to keep his legs together, so the guards wouldn’t have anything to look at.  He’d never had to worry about it before, but he’d never worn a tiny little dress, either.  He decided he needed to think through the situation, wait for an opportunity to present itself.  Was it the stress?  The shock of finding himself in a new, female body?  He didn’t know, but he plunged into a deep, troubled sleep and only woke up when he heard a man bellow, “Wake up!”

Kirk snapped awake, initially confused by the weight of his breasts bouncing on his chest, the sight of his long, coltish legs, exposed by his dress.  Then it all started to come back to him, the slap, being taken prisoner.  He pushed a few strands of hair away from his face with his slender hands and sat on the edge of the cot, his knees together.

The man leered at Kirk, letting his eyes roam across his body.  Then, he met Kirk’s eyes and smiled, like a shark.

‘I am a Federation Officer,” Kirk started, wincing at the high-pitched sound of his voice.  He didn’t even sound like a woman, but a girl.

“Shut up! The man said “And listen to me if you want to live.”

“I want to talk to my ship,” Kirk continued.

“No,” the man said, setting his briefcase down, adjusting his suit.

“I have rights!”  Kirk had meant the words to come out forceful and commanding, but instead he had sounded like a teen girl about to have a hissy fit.  He cringed, putting his hands to his throat, feeling his breasts pressed together between his arms.

“You are a woman, and you have no rights on Rammerham,”  the man said.  “This isn’t your precious Federation, with all of your absurd notions of equality.  However, in the interest of avoiding an interplanetary crisis, I am here to offer you a deal that will save your life.  So, do you want to listen or do you want to die?  Nod or shake your head.  I think that is your custom?”

Kirk felt ashamed of his voice, and so he just nodded.  Besides, talk of the Federation reminded him he’d come here on a mission.  He needed to do what he could to salvage that operation, even if it meant he had to put the little issue of his sex change aside for the moment.

“Good girl,” the man said.  “So, here’s what’s going to happen.  You will called before Khan Rammerham.  He will sentence you to death.  You will beg for your life, and offer to join his harem and serve him as his slave girl.  It will help if you can cry.  He likes to play the hero.”

Harem?  Slave girl?  The words sounded impossible to Kirk’s ears.  He was a man.  Had been a man.  How could?  What?  “A slave girl?  Harem?  Me?”  He said softly, his eyes wide.

“Khan saw you on the video.  You’re sexy.  Got nice tits and a hot temper.  He likes this in his women. ”

The man picked up his briefcase and walked away, leaving Kirk there feeling more vulnerable and disrespected than he had ever felt in his life.   Slave girl?  A tight, strangulated laugh escaped from him.  It was all so insane.  Like the plot of an old 21st Century Fan Fiction.

No, he decided, shaking his head.  No.  If it came down to it, he would rather die than agree to join Khan Rammerham’s harem and- pleasure him.  The thought– revolted him. Sickened him.  A slave girl?  A harem girl?  How all of Star Fleet would laugh at that news.  No.  Jim Kirk was not meant for that end.

Where are you Spock?  Scotty?  He wondered.  I need you to get me out of this.  He lay on his side, fighting against a strange and powerful impulse to cry.  He pushed the feelings inside, refused to acknowledge them, and instead focused all his will on one thing: his impeding death.  He would not lose his nerve.  He would not agree to his own utter humiliation.

A short time later a group of women arrived, primping Kirk and dressing him for his trial.  They took his hair down, brushed it, made up his face and dressed him in traditional Rammerham female attire.  He just let them do what they wished, thinking the whole time about the trial, and how ashamed he would be to die as a woman, but that it would be better than to become another man’s pleasure slave.  It seemed an impossible sitation, but he would Kobayashi Maru it.

but this time, the Kobayashi Maru manuever would end in one death:  his own.

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Paperbacks!

Exciting news.  I have released both It Girl, What? and Your Memory Mine in paperback form!  If, like me, you enjoy a physical copy of a book you can lug to the beach or the park, rejoice!  In addition, they are both enrolled in Kindle Matchbook, so it you buy the paperback you get the ebook for FREE!

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Your Memory Mine   

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 It Girl! What?

Happy reading!!!!!  Look for a new installment of Kirk on Monday!