Aphora's Mission Ch. 07

Being on the spacecraft, hurtling through the Milky Way galaxy toward Aphora's solar system, was like being on a cruise.

Besides our mission of morphing into women with spermy benefits and preparing ourselves to blend in on the new planet, there were all manner of things to do. All six of us took advantage of the sports and workout equipment. We were given a special time to use the pool, for which we self-consciously stretched women's swimming suits over our developing bodies. And we watched movies, sometimes over and over again.

I won't bore you with all the arcane details of the medical treatments designed to re-sculpt our bodies. At the beginning, medical staff tape-measured us to set a baseline so they could gauge our progress. After that, we received medical attention virtually every day as we proceeded to take five different pills and received hormonal injections.

After two weeks, we began to notice the effects. Our hips were growing wider and our fannies were getting plumper, our faces were filling out and our little man-tits were beginning to fill out in a womanly way. Our head-hair was growing more luxuriant and full, and our legs were becoming increasingly shapely. Even our voices were moving higher in register, which we found amusing.

Due to our twice-weekly baths, our skin shed its male hair and become softer and smoother.

Only one of us had adverse reactions to the treatments. Robin had to be pulled off his regimen because of inflammation and weight loss. For a time we feared he would arrive on Aphora as its sole person looking like a man, but adjustments and alternatives were arranged, and he was soon back on the program, albeit a week behind the rest of us.

As part of our language training, we were asked to be connected with numerous skull-tap wires to an electric device which would lay down the brain patterns necessary to learn quickly. It wouldn't make us into instant language experts, but it would build the underlying structure to which we would add individual words.

At the same time (we were told) our brains would be subtly modified to make them more typically feminine. This had us concerned, as we didn't want to lose all of our maleness, so Chris, our jolly crossdresser, volunteered to be a guinea pig.

Several days after his hour-long treatment, Chris related that the language portion helped him tremendously, but the feminine portion was more subtle.

"I don't know," he said. "It's like I feel lighter, like I'm more observant of others' emotions, like - this is funny to say - but I feel a little more love towards everyone. So maybe my calling this the Love Boat was right on ... Also, hmmm, it's like I have a self-image of myself having a woman's body now, almost as though I was born that way."

Since he didn't suffer any deprivations from the treatment, we all went ahead with it, with similar results. Our language training now proceeded rapidly.

Meanwhile, the other five guys/women received their female names. So as to not confuse you the reader, my account will retain their original names.

I met with my guide Na-hoyan every other day. I was now dressed in her style of uniform (the crisp cotton), although mine was looser because of my changing body. She asked many questions, and seemed satisfied with my progress, and as time went on, I could understand more and more of her speech without use of the translator.

It felt good to be attracted to her, and I'd be aroused if she brushed against me. In fact, her touching happened more often than by accident.

We young guys had to make do with masturbation on the trip, obtainable when solitary time was available, or ... in a bathroom stall. If any of the other guys had any assignations with crew during the trip I didn't hear about it.

Whatever the wonder treatments were, my breasts were beginning to bloom, and it wasn't very long before they were larger than Na-hoyan's mini titties.

One day I asked her, "Have you had any desire to grow larger breasts, since it seems so easy to do?"

She seemed taken aback, as though she hadn't been prepared for this.

"I could, I suppose, but larger breasts would look ridiculous on me, given my slight frame and shortness. I thought about it, but discarded the idea. Why, you don't think I look attractive just as I am?"

"Well, I do like larger breasts on women, Na-hoyan. But I think you're right about yourself. On Earth, some women go to ridiculous lengths to have unnaturally large breasts. Like, why would they want to carry all that weight around? Myself, I asked for 38B breasts. And, to answer your question, I think you're quite attractive. You have a beautiful face and I love your hairdo."

She smiled. "As they say on Earth, flattery will get you everywhere. Maybe when all our Earth trips are over and I return permanently to Aphora, I will run into you and have sex with you and we could make a baby."

I laughed a little. "Well, Na-hoyan, I will mostly want the sex and closeness part of it, and if babies result, all the better!"

She laughed a little too, and then, unexpectedly, reached out and touched one of my growing breasts, with its expanding nipple and areola.

"They're doing well," she offered, "They look good on you."

That made me horny as hell, but I honored her request for no sex. Maybe she would change her mind?

The next day, Will and I met with Chris. Will, my buddy, my bosom buddy, and I had started wearing well-fitting dresses from Chris' rack, being tired of the crisp Aphoran uniforms. And we were beginning to fill them out. The dresses' soft material clung to our new curves nicely, and there were artistic patterns on them that were different than Earthside designs.

I enjoyed feeling the rustle and flow of dresses around my legs. We had even started wearing small-cup bras so we could get used to them. I admit that their tightness felt very erotic.

This was our initial meeting with Chris to choose clothing and lingerie for Aphora.

"I have something to tell you about fashion on Aphora," said Chris. "You may have figured that a planet so far away, having diverged from Earth-ian humans so long ago, would have really different clothing. You may even have noticed that Aphoran women have a slightly different physical appearance than Earth women. But you're in for a surprise. The alien culture that seeded Aphora with humans, as you have heard, kept monitoring them, and also kept touch with developments on Earth.

"When Earth developed movies and television, the aliens set up a satellite within our solar system which re-broadcast Earth programming to Aphora. Now, as you know, Aphora is more advanced in many ways than Earth is, but if we on Earth do have one leg up on Aphora, it's in the arts and in fashion. Earth, you could say, is more relaxed and laid back than Aphora.

"As a result, Aphorans unabashedly copied and adopted European- and American-style fashion and clothing. Now, this is good for we quasi women because we don't have to take a crash course in fashion, alongside culture and language."

"So then," Will asked, "are most Aphorans aware of Earth and that it's their mother planet?"

"Not exactly," said Chris. "It's a bit hard to follow, but my understanding is that the average Aphoran believes that the aliens created life on their planet; that's why they worship them. Only a few select clothing fashion leaders were given access to Earth styles, and they slowly introduced them to the multitudes."

So, using our projected final bodily measurements, Will and I sat down to choose our garments and undergarments for Aphora.

We started by viewing videos of everyday women on the streets of Aphora (and in homes) wearing typical clothing.

Then, I became totally engrossed in paging through Chris' digital "catalog" of styles - so engrossed that I kinda put Will off when he wanted to see what I was choosing. "Come on," I said, "you gotta be your own woman there. Just choose stuff you like to see on women on earth."

I wondered if he was as excited by the prospect of dressing on Aphora as I was.

My inclination was to start directly with lingerie, but I still didn't want to reveal my somewhat fetishistic fascination with those things, so I started with skirts, dresses, tops, coats, sweaters, shirts, hats, pants and the like. As a guy, I always hated shopping for my own male clothing, and actually got most of it as gifts. Now I had to induce myself to make quick decisions and actually establish a style for myself. And, choose between outfits fit for show and those fit for casual wear. I managed.

Then I went on to shoes and jewelry. On the videos, I noticed women wearing high heels on Aphora, but Chris advised that due to my height, I should avoid them. "Aw," I replied, "I wanted to see how they'd look on me."

So I had to go with low shoes with sexy straps, or casual-style shoes good for walking. And even a pair of sturdy hiking shoes.

Next were nightgowns, and picking them was easy. I chose four of them: one pink, one bluish, one of flannel for Aphoran cold nights, and one very slinky and sexy for bedtime fun.

Then I drifted on into hose, panties and slips and even a shaper to coax my waist in a little more. I felt myself becoming a bit wet as I debated which sexy panties to order. I loved the kind with half lace trim, and of course, I selected some thongs. Plus some everyday cotton ones for casual use.

Chris made sure I special-ordered what he called gaffs - panty-like underwear to pull one's dick out of sight.

And finally, my breasts wanted some attention, so I settled into choosing my ultimate clothing attraction: bras. After having been a bra connoisseur Earthside, developing an acute eye for my preferences, I wasted no time in selecting a dozen - some stiff and lacy, some stretchy and nearly transparent, some with sexy European cuts, some for exercise, some underwired and some not, and one very vintage one with pointy cups.

Finally, to cap it all off, I picked a white, wedding-style corset - which made me wonder: would I ever marry anyone on Aphora? For that, I would eventually merit a wonderful, wonderful wedding dress!

As I and my counterparts roamed the ship (although we weren't allowed everywhere) we were taking baby steps toward presenting ourselves as women by wearing Chris-taught makeup, by walking more femininely, by styling our hair, and by trying to be agreeable and pleasant. The brain dump definitely helped.

I wondered how the crew viewed us. Did they return to their quarters, laughing uproariously about our appearance and sometimes awkwardness? Did they inwardly think, "We can never accept them as one of us?" On the other hand, did they have fantasies about having full- bore sex with us? That's what several of my buds guessed.

About three-fourths of the way through the trip, when my breasts were almost fully formed, and my hair had become long enough to style attractively, and I was beginning to be comfortable with my newness, a member of the crew, a junior officer, began to look intently at me when we would pass in the passageways. I began to say hello in her language, and she would respond and crack a small smile.

Several times, she stopped me to rather formally ask me if everything was OK, which seemed to be infringing on the duties of my guide, Na-hoyan. Nonetheless, I answered in the affirmative. I looked her over. Her personal appearance wasn't the neatest - her hair was a bit unkempt, and she seemed distracted and pushy, like she wasn't all that happy (since my mental conditioning, I had become more attuned to others). But I always responded nicely and made sure I paid her the attention she wanted.

One "night" when I couldn't sleep, I slipped out of my nightgown, put on panties and dress and went into the lunchroom to read a book. I was all alone with only the humming of the ship's air systems to keep me company. I heard a door open but was too engrossed in my story to see who entered.

Someone touched my shoulder and I turned around to see this same woman mext to me. I could feel the heat from her body, and she wasn't wearing her usual uniform, but a rather tight and revealing bodysuit with a zipper down the front, with a multitude of colored stripes that ran around her legs, arms and crotch, and emphasized her waist and bust. She had a killer figure and I tried not to stare.

"Well, hello," I said. "You're looking quite different ... "

"I was working late shift, and ended it by working out."

"Want to sit down?"

"No, not exactly."

"Then ...?"

"Like to go somewhere more private?" she asked, closing her eyes briefly.

"Aren't you afraid of being disciplined for breaking the rules?"

"No."

We ended up heading down a passageway, hand in hand, and into a locked room which seemed to be a storeroom for bedding and also contained what appeared to be washing devices.

I put my book aside and pulled her to me, and looked into her eyes, which displayed the most intense desire ...

She was considerably shorter than me, so kissing took a little doing, but our lips were so eager and hungry. She soon lifted my dress and her hand was already inside my panties, grasping my growing cock. I immediately zipped her bodysuit from top to belly button let it fall to her feet.

She pushed me down upon a mattress of sorts and knelt over me, her long brown hair caressing my face. "I've been thinking about this for a long time, Pora-tarne," she gasped. "I really need to know what a penis feels like inside me, a real, warm penis, not a dildo."

She pushed my bra up and grasped my breast and nipple. My body started arching upward and at that very moment she let herself down upon my shaft and slowly began doing squats. As she speeded up, I reached up and let my hands glide over her nipples as her breasts sexily bounced.

We both began screaming like animals in heat as first I came, then her. After a couple moments, she collapsed alongside me and we just lay there side by side for a time.

Then, the locked door opened, and the night duty officer came in. "So you just couldn't wait to eat the candy, eh?" she said.