Ragdoll Ch. 01

Prologue:

I was twenty-four years old and soon my life would change forever. I studied the interactive display that loomed before me. The vividness of the whole brought to mind an innocent childhood memory of a beautiful painting I had seen once upon a time: a depiction of a young girl extending her hand to touch the face of a fallen Knight. It seemed she offered him comfort in his final moments. Something about the girl had stirred me, though I did not understand why - then.

My memory flickered to another time. I was visiting somewhere, playing a children's game of hide-and-seek. I had just entered into a strange room and closed the door quietly behind me, when something vivid, purple, stuffed into a cardboard box in the corner, caught my eye. Curious, I crept over to it and leaned down, gently pulling the purple object loose from what I now recognized was an assortment of stuffed animals. I turned it in my hands to see a worn ragdoll in a white dress with purple hair. Her face had been sewn with orange thread to mend a tear and her eyes seemed to be looking at me - intently. A small string with a ring at its end dangled from her tummy. I pulled it until there was some resistance and then let go.

"Hi. My name is Violet... will you play with me?" the doll said.

I looked at her, brushing my fingers over the purple yarn that was her hair, when suddenly the door banged open and the girl I was attempting to hide from came prancing in. She saw me and stopped, her expression becoming very child serious, and then she shouted, "Hey, you can't play with that! You're a boy. Boys don't play with dolls."

My focus returned to the task at hand. The display revealed what I was allowed to see: the information I needed to review and approve. There were checklists I would complete, options I would choose, and binding agreements to which I would consent - just a positioning of my right index finger was all that was needed to navigate and select, even to finalize and enter into binding legal contract, my fingerprint captured in perfect high resolution. The cost would be extreme, and far beyond my financial means. I would pay a different price.

I was not alone. Jocelyn sat, across the room, peering closely at a display like the one before me, her gaze intent, finger poised to interact. She must have sensed me looking at her though, for she turned at that moment and caught my gaze. One could see the subtlest hint of distant Asian ancestry about her eyes. She offered a tentative smile, and then she mimed tapping her finger toward her display and mouthed silently, "Checklists - do them."

She was petite and lovely yet she chose to present herself modestly. She wore no makeup and her clothing was very unisex, just as it had been on nearly every occasion when we had been together. A dark blue exercise suit was her choice today, the cowl of her hoodie drawn up around her face, her chin length hair just peeking out. I watched her turn back to her display.

Jocelyn and I were staged in a psych-med processing room deep within a facility known simply as Chalis. The place was an opulent fortress set in a small valley surrounded by alpine forests somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. Chalis was a cutting-edge scientific research site for bio-science and viral engineering. It was also an extravagant playground for the super rich who spent lavishly to indulge their every desire. There was little that could not be had if one was willing to pay a high enough price. Chalis also provided personnel to be used in certain types of strategic operations. Contracts existed with elite private special ops groups as well as covert branches of select Governments around the world.

I glanced at the timedate: 09:01:26, 10 April, 2053.

Leaning closer, I began to read in earnest.

Terms and Conditions Brief:

In lieu of advance payment in US currency, ten years of service to Chalis authority under conditions of absolute obedience is required as payment for the procedure. There are no restrictions to what may be required of the subject except subject will not be directed intentionally to harm innocents or be placed in harm's way without reasonable chance for succor and for reason of greater good. Cost of procedure is US currency $5,000,000.00; equivalent to two years of service per million dollars. Poor performance will cause the service term to be extended until such time as debt is paid in full. A modest percentage of the money earned for Chalis by the subject will be placed in a secure account for access by subject once service term is complete. If at any time during service, subject gains wealth sufficient to pay remaining amount owed to Chalis, and subject chooses to pay remaining amount owed, subject will be released to private life.

Procedure Brief(Layman's version):

Viral induced genetic modification; typically arranged between two persons of opposite gender who desire to be the gender that is not their natural born biological gender. Genetic modification phase of the procedure is one-time, and irreversible. Success rate: 98% (2% fatality). Brain is selectively protected during modification, though peripheral non-cognitive changes are likely to occur and hormonal changes post migration may affect personality to some degree. Duration of gender migration procedure is three months in a dual "womb chamber". Virus code-named *** [redacted].

Scientific nature of the procedure i.e. what does the virus do?

The pristine virus infiltrates every human cell, targeting one chromosome from each of the 23 pairs, including the 23rd chromosome pair (which determines sex) and "steals" one chromosome from each pair. The virus has been engineered to always prioritize Y chromosome theft, and will only steal a random X chromosome if no Y is present. The virus also makes a copy of each chromosome that is not stolen from every pair, essentially cloning the cell it has stolen from, within itself, leaving every "victim" or "donor" cell bereft of one half of its chromosomes. The mature virus containing 23 pairs of chromosomes assumes properties of the specific cell type it has cloned, and searches for a like cell type to bond to(mate with?); however, the virus will not mate with a cell which contains a chromosome that it has copied as part of its theft and copy action. This is the key to the mature virus seeking unlike DNA, i.e. different chromosomes to bond to. The virus will bond to the similar type cells of a different individual vs. the individual from whom the chromosomes have been stolen and copied.

The virus always donates the stolen set of chromosomes, then slowly dies, effectively discarding the copied set of chromosomes. This guarantees that when mating, in the case of male - female mutual gender migration, the cells and chromosomes from the source female will bond exclusively with the cells (with only half set of chromosomes) of the source male. Likewise, the cells and chromosomes from the source male will bond exclusively with the cells (with only half set of chromosomes) of the source female. When the procedure is complete and the virus has fully rewritten one half of each subject's chromosomes, the subjects will each possess half of their original genetic code and half of the other person's genetic code, with gender reversal achieved. The original male subject will be a fully functioning biological female(with intact hymen i.e. virgin) capable of being impregnated and giving birth while the original female subject will be a fully functioning male capable of inseminating a female and fathering a child. The pair who has exchanged gender and genetic makeup with each other should not attempt to procreate; however, sex between the pair is completely acceptable if the situation should arise.

Post Gender Migration Service Occupation Brief:

The terms were clear and the language straightforward. Once migration was complete, I would be a high class prostitute for Chalis, while Jocelyn would become part of a special operations team. Each of us would have the opportunity to rise through the ranks so to speak in accordance with our performance. Our quarters, clothes, food, and financial provisions for "retirement" would correlate directly to our performance and to feedback received from our clients as well as evaluation by superiors. There were some notes here discussing my psychological profile. The gist was that my profile showed the highest level of submissive tendencies among all of the subjects who had undergone migration to date. It was expected that I would be in high demand by Chalis clientele as well as within the social structure formed among the girls themselves.

I paused, noting the next folder I would access. Until now each folder had been captioned with an abbreviated name of its content topic - black text on a ghost-white folder graphic. The next folder was rendered in pale carmine and captioned with one word: Violet. This was the name I had chosen for the new me. I tapped this folder and the display altered dramatically, presenting a three dimensional avatar of a young woman. Virtual pushpins and indicator lines to points on my avatar as well as late stage migration customization and minor surgical option widgets glowed with multicolor brilliance before me.

There was an option to provide a detailed overlay onto the avatar - my likely future appearance in detail as projected by computer modeling based on my genetic code blended with Jocelyn's code. I opted not to enable the detailed overlay - I did not wish to see the real new me until I was truly her. I glanced over to Jocelyn's workstation - she had scooted up close, examining the male avatar on her display, her slender finger poised. I felt a stirring within me of deep gratitude to her for what she was offering to me. I knew that she felt the same way toward me. We had shared many of our innermost thoughts with each other during the year leading up to this moment. I can not describe the excitement, and anticipation I felt as I began to choose and specify.

In the end, I had chosen two specific "extra" genetic modifications and a suite of minor, mostly cosmetic surgical procedures. Given Jocelyn's hair type and color(straight, black), my post migration hair would be the same; however, I had considered this for a long while and in the end, I chose a gene mod that would alter my hair color to a soft white, like the color of a pearl. I imagined myself with a "Cleopatra" style coiffure, yet pearl white vs. the jet black with which she was often portrayed. My brows and lashes would follow suit. The second gene mod I chose altered my projected eye color from a dark mocha brown to a gentle silver gray like clouds on a rainy day. These mods were perhaps unusual, but they were also rather tame compared to many of the modifications available in this era of bio-engineering. One could encounter some rather wild and exotic things, especially in the great urban centers spread across the globe.

For the duration of the three month procedure, we would be drugged, unconscious except for brief periods when we would be induced to near consciousness to verify proper brain function, but we would still be heavily sedated - the intermediate stages of the migration could be traumatic to the psyche. Body mods and cosmetic procedures would be performed during the final three weeks of the migration procedure. The level of drugs in our systems would be lowered gradually, and at this stage, one could be removed from the womb chamber by handlers, for brief periods, and the procedures performed. The benefits of performing the surgical procedures during the final weeks of the migration were that the alterations would become permanent. As the virus completed our tranformation, changes would become a natural part of our final structure so to speak - as a simple example: piercings would never close.

I reviewed my chosen list of mods:

1. Total laser depilation of entire body from neck down, to include vulva.

2. Full body skin scan and laser removal of all skin defects or discolorations.

I wanted my skin to be a pristine blanket of milky cream perfection.

3. Triple-piercing of both ears: single piercing of lobe, double piercing of helix centered at apex and separated by 1cm.

4. Single piercing of navel.

5. Single piercing of clitoral prepuce(hood).

6. Birth control implant: 3 year efficacy.

I understood that in addition to very reliable contraception, I would menstruate somewhat less frequently, and with moderate reduction of discomfort.

The final mod was one I had no option to change.It kept dropping down the list as I added the mods I wanted, and could not be deleted or edited.

7. Micro-tracking chip implant: location [redacted].

They would always be able to find me.

I had declined many other popular procedures as they were "not me". These options were now down-shaded to gray on my display: breast augmentation, lip plumping, lash implants, permanent eyeliner, feline eye shaping, brow piercing, nipple piercing, nose piercing, tongue piercing. I hesitated. There were other piercings I might like to explore, but I could always opt to pursue them later, in the traditional manner. The list went on.

My choices extended my indebtedness to Chalis by an additional six months. I was twenty-four now, so they would own the best decade of my life. Jocelyn was one year older than me.

The timedate now read: 12:08:47, 10 April, 2053.

I hope that Jocelyn finishes soon - it's time for lunch!

~~~

Procedure initiation day: 10:02:19, 16 April, 2053.

Jocelyn and I made love last night - the first time between us; the last time before we would be birthed anew into forms we each had yearned for so desperately. We lay facing each other in a dual "womb chamber" with our limbs intertwined. We were naked, and we both had numerous tubes and bio-sensors attached to our bodies. We were already moderately sedated. The virus thrived and performed its transformation within a blood plasma fluid environment, and we were in final stages of being readied for immersion to be followed by introduction of the virus into the chamber as well as into our bloodstreams via IV. Our nasal passages were sealed with small plugs, and custom mouthpieces were fitted in place. Machines would aid our natural breathing for the duration of the procedure. We would be fed intravenously, and catheters would route any bodily waste outside of the chamber to be processed. Adjustments would be made as our bodies changed. One of the medical team gave a "thumbs up" signal and the upper section of our chamber was set in place and sealed. Warm fluid began rushing in, around us. I looked into Jocelyn's eyes and she looked into mine. I felt a profound sense of serenity in the last moments before I drifted into unconsciousness.

~~~

14:26:05, 19 July, 2053.

There was motion, and light. My eyelids fluttered and then I closed them tightly against the offending brightness.

"She's awake." I heard someone say.

"Where was I? Who... me?" I thought. I felt a shift to the motion as the medbed being used to transport me turned a corner and then firmed its course. In my emerging wakefulness I imagined myself being wheeled down a long tunnel with no end, peoples' voices and activites buzzing all around me, quickly fading as I passed them by. I tried to speak but all I was capable of was a broken whisper, "Is it... over? Am I...?"

A hand touched my shoulder gently and I heard a woman's voice beside me. "Shhh sweetie - don't try to talk yet. Just rest quiet - we'll take care of you. We are almost to your room."

Apparently I was not yet supposed to wake because I heard a second, male voice giving instructions, "Sedate her again. I want her to get twelve hours of normal sleep now and then we will begin her post migration rehab. It will require a few weeks for her to regain strength and adjust to the new physiology."

After a brief pause, perhaps as an afterthought he spoke again, and this time I understood it was directed to me, "Don't worry Violet. Everything went perfectly - with Jos too."

Chapter One: The New Girl

I sat in a chair before my dressing table, staring into the mirror. I was inclined forward, elbows resting on the rich wood surface, face resting against my hands which were both curled in such a way that my knuckles pressed against my chin and cheeks. Twenty more minutes until I needed to leave to meet with Director Brentwood. I was quite happy with every facet of my appearance, except perhaps my nose. I scrunched it slightly and tried to wiggle it a little. My features would be considered delicate, fine perhaps, but while my nose was small and pleasing, it was more rounded at the tip than I had hoped for. So rather than fitting the truest definition of refined beauty, I would have to settle for... me. My pearl white hair was cut classical straight, feathered slightly at the tips and it tapered from chin length where it fell forward around my face to moderately shorter where it brushed the nape of my neck. I would grow it longer - all I needed was time. I sighed and glanced at my Netdisplay. There were several news feeds and shopping channels all competing for my attention simultaneously. My "stats" were visible off to one side - waiting to be read by any shopping site I activated. The date was early September. I reread the stats for the hundredth time. I still could not believe it was all real, me; but it was.

Height: 5'5"

Weight: 112 lbs

Dress size: Misses' 6

Bust: 33" (B cup)

Waist 24"

Hips 35"

Shoe size 7

Pantyhose: B

Lingerie: S

I tapped the Netdisplay to sleep mode, and rose, crossing the room to a full length mirror adjacent to the entry to my walk-in closet. My room was... my room. I would not entertain clients here. There were countless richly appointed suites at Chalis dedicated to private entertainment as well as a large number of specifically themed clubs where guests and staff could mingle. I turned to one side, then the other, then forward again, inspecting my appearance. I had some suspicion regarding my pending appointment with Director Brentwood. In light of this, I had chosen a simple white summer dress, backless, with thin straps that tied behind my neck, white lace thong panties, and a pair of white four inch heels. I found that I preferred the style with a thin strap around the ankle. These were open toed and the straps were studded with small faux diamonds. My breasts, while obvious, were small enough that I really did not need a bra. I walked back to my dressing table and scanned my present collection of jewelry, selected a pair of earrings, small white crucifixes; and hooked them to my lobes. I was not particularly religious, but I liked the imagery. The only other jewelry I wore today was something I considered my intimate joy. I wore two small silver hoops, one piercing my navel, the other piercing the hood of my clit. A delicate silver chain connected the two, with just enough play between that I could engage in normal activity and not be - distracted. I nibbled my lower lip. It was time to go.

I slipped from the private apartment building which housed all of the girls into a central courtyard. For a moment I just looked around at the sculpted gardens and the stonework. It was an impressive sight. The air this September day was cool and the sky a vivid blue as far as the eye could see. I breathed deeply and then continued across the courtyard toward Director Brentwood's office building. I was still learning how to walk properly, fashionably, in heels. It felt somewhat like walking on tiptoes with a firm, yet capricious support beneath my heel. I felt both sensuous and vulnerable wearing and walking in them, and I loved it. I had read so many instructions and been coached a little by my rehab nurse. What I needed now was simply practice, practice, and more practice. I can not say how thrilled I was to hear the clicking of MY heels on the cobblestones as I walked across the way and up a few steps, into the austere lobby of Director Brentwood's offices.