Swapship Troopers Read online

  “How are you feeling, Private?” Lieutenant Hardaway approached to ask.

  “Sir!” Quantrill exclaimed in surprise around a mouth full of rice. He swallowed quickly and then replied, “Good to go, sir!”

  “Indeed,” Hardaway nodded. He looked Quantrill up and down and then nodded again. “Carry on, Q.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Quantrill replied. He let out his breath and went back to the rice. He chewed through the entire bowl and managed to sooth his empty stomach for the time being. More transformed Marines came out of their shelters and soon the entire platoon was up and around.

  “Gather around, people!” the Lieutenant called out to the group. He pointed a line across the ground and instructed, “Ladies line up on this line.”

  No one moved for several beats. Then Quantrill realized the Lieutenant was talking to him. He scurried over to the line Hardaway had indicated. Potter and Jordan quickly followed.

  “Not you, Quantrill,” the Lieutenant ordered. “Stand over here behind me.”

  “Yes, sir!” Quantrill replied. He jogged over to the Lieutenant’s side. The other men who had been given PinkVector lined up. Some were wearing baggy fatigue pants and some were in their skivvies. They were all, however, clearly women. Their hips were broad and their waists were narrow. Rounded outlines of breasts were visible under t-shirts and tank tops. Even so, they weren’t the most feminine women Quantrill had ever seen. For one thing they had still had the close clipped regulation hairstyle they’d had before the drug was administered.

  For another they were quite a bit brawnier than was probably desirable in a woman. They had started out as Marines after all. The PinkVector drug was stunning in what it could do, but it apparently couldn’t make all that muscle mass just disappear. Private Burke in particular had always been built like a tank. In female form he didn’t have quite the same bulk, but still made the toughest looking lady Quantrill had ever seen.

  That didn’t seem to be bothering the men, however. They eyed the genetically engineered women like starving wolves at a steak buffet. These were the closest things they had seen to females in months. They weren’t going to be picky.

  “Sergeant,” the Lieutenant called out to his second in command. “Choose which one of those women you want to spend the night with.”

  “Sir?” Sergeant Prince asked. “Wouldn’t that make me a … you know … a homo?”

  “Sergeant, these are women,” Hardaway insisted. “Tits, pussy, the whole nine yards. Even their DNA is female. Sex with one of them is biologically, legally, and morally equivalent to sex with any other woman. Nobody is going to the brig for indecency here.”

  “Sir?” Potter interrupted. He was lined up with the other women. “What about us? What if we … umm … don’t exactly want to have sex with a man? Don’t we get a choice?”

  “Potter,” the Lieutenant said sternly. “All of you. You’re Marines. Your ass belongs to the Corps. That means you follow orders. Besides,” Hardaway added, “you might enjoy it if you give it a chance. Are you ready to make a selection, Sergeant?”

  “Yes, sir,” Prince nodded. Understanding dawned on his face. “One of those.” He gestured to the lineup of women, then looked back to the Lieutenant. “Not PFC Quantrill.”

  “Correct. Who will it be?”

  Sergeant Prince finally picked Singh. Quantrill could understand why. Singh had a long, narrow nose that seemed hawk-like on a man, but was somehow delicate and exotic on a feminine face. With that and his big, brown eyes and flawless, warm brown skin he was by far the prettiest of the women available. That wasn’t exactly saying much, of course.

  Quantrill wondered if that was why he had been pulled aside. Maybe he made such an ugly woman that the Lieutenant knew none of the other Marines would choose him. Quantrill had a small face with a tiny, round nose and big eyes that seemed to bug out of his head. The other kids in school had made fun of him for it. He’d been called “Bugsy” since the eighth grade.

  When he was drafted all that changed. The Marines didn’t give two shits about how handsome you are. There were no women to impress or fancy parties to attend. Sure he caught some flak for being small, but in his fellow Marines’ eyes he made up for it by being one of the best rifle marksmen in the platoon. Marines cared about how well you killed Bugs. Not what you look like.

  Except that didn’t seem to be the case anymore. Quantrill watched Prince quickly lead Singh to one of the PECS and disappear inside. It was like school all over again. He was picked last for flag football. He was turned down by girl after girl who he asked to the senior prom. At least he didn’t have to worry about being called Bugsy again. Insect related epithets were strictly reserved for Formids now.

  “Corporal Tsien,” the Lieutenant called out. “Your turn.”

  “Phan,” Tsien replied immediately. He must have thought about his answer beforehand. Private Phan was also looking relatively cute. He had a long, lean build that leant itself to a female form. It looked like Tsien thought so, too.

  “Corporal Vanlanding,” the Lieutenant said next. It seemed like he was going through the platoon in order of seniority. The highest ranking men would get first pick of the women. The new recruits would be stuck with whatever was left. It looked like they would be stuck with Quantrill, he thought sadly.

  “Sir,” Vanlanding said seriously. “Permission to speak freely?”

  “What now, Van?” the Lieutenant grumbled.

  “I just don’t feel right about this,” Vanlanding explained. “Sex, sir. Without the benefit of holy matrimony. It’s sinful.”

  “Shit,” the Lieutenant sighed. “Pick a woman, for fuck sake. Take her to your tent and read the fucking bible all night for all I care. Just get on with it.”

  Vanlanding picked Jordan. Quantrill didn’t know if they intended to read scripture or not, but they disappeared into Vanlanding’s PECS. There were no more arguments from the rest of the men. In fact, as the number of women dwindled those remaining became more and more enthusiastic. Torvaldsen even stripped off his shirt and paraded around topless.

  “Don’t pick that ugly ass,” Hayes argued. “Me love you long time!” Marines are by nature competitive. No one wanted to be the last one picked.

  “Damnit, Guan!” Torvaldsen grumbled when he wasn’t chosen. “I’m way hotter than Lopez you fucking loser.”

  Eventually all the women were chosen but one. Only one man was left – Anderson, the heavy machine gunner from Corporal Guan’s squad. The last woman was Burke. He was short and powerfully built with a square jaw and a thick neck that the PinkVector drug had only been able to feminize slightly. He looked like a bulldog with breasts.

  “What about Quantrill, sir?” Anderson inquired. Quantrill’s spirits lifted a little at that. Someone was interested in him after all! He was at least more desirable than a bulldog with breasts.

  “No,” the Lieutenant shook his head. “Q is taking guard duty. He’s going to make sure you scrubs can enjoy your R and R without a Bug chewing on your ass during the night.”

  “Yes, sir,” Anderson said with a sigh. He and Burke moved off to a PECS together, although neither seemed thrilled about it.

  It was no surprise that Hardaway would have men guarding the perimeter, even with the scanners set up and the Formids blown to pieces. The Lieutenant was one of those who believed in hoping for the best and planning for the worst – and he didn’t seem to waste much time with the first part. That was probably why his platoon had some of the lowest casualty rates in the Fleet.

  “Quantrill,” the Lieutenant ordered. “You go up to that ridge there. I’ll take the other side. Keep in visual contact.”

  “Yes, sir,” Quantrill agreed. “Sir – battle armor?”

  “Not necessary. We will almost definitely have zero action tonight,” Hardaway replied. “But if you see anything don’t engage. Just raise the alarm and get the fuck out of there.”

  “Yes, sir,” Quantrill assented. He had no intention taking on a
Formid wearing nothing but a t-shirt. It felt like suicide when he was wearing his high-impact, carbon-fiber armor.

  “Besides,” the Lieutenant put in. “I think you’d have some … fit issues with your body armor.”

  “Yes, sir,” Quantrill agreed wryly. He looked down at his protruding bosoms – those were definitely not going to fit inside his chest plate without a fight. He couldn’t see around back, but judging from how his formerly baggy pants were constricting him around the hips, there wasn’t room for his ass in the battle suit either.

  Quantrill grabbed his weapon and climbed up a rocky outcropping above the camp. The service rifle seemed to weigh about twice as much as usual, but Quantrill was determined to carry the weapon by the numbers. He and his AR316 had been through a lot together. He couldn’t let a few chromosomes come between them. Besides, he wasn’t about to look like a weakling in front of the Lieutenant.

  Quantrill had a good view of the camp from on top of the rock. He could see most of the perimeter scanners with their little, green lights glowing in the darkness. The areas he couldn’t see the Lieutenant was covering on his end. Hardaway was just visible in the darkness pacing back and forth along the crest of the hill.

  He also heard a lot of noises coming from the PECS below. There was moaning, heavy breathing, and excited cries in male and female voices. Quantrill wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or disappointed to be missing out. From the sound of it, the platoon was definitely having fun. A lot of fun. The kind of fun that Quantrill hadn’t had in a long, long time.

  On the other hand, he wasn’t too crazy about the idea of having sex with a man. It seemed a little gross, frankly. His platoon mates were all good Marines and fine individuals, but he had no interest in getting to know them that way. Besides, he wasn’t at all sure how to act as a woman. He would probably just make a fool of himself trying.

  He should be relieved, Quantrill decided. That was not the kind of memory he wanted to look back on in his old age – assuming he made it to old age. As his patrol dragged on, however, he started to have second thoughts. The ecstatic moaning coming from camp was hard to ignore. It was like a chorus of sex sounds – one tent would take a break and then another would start up again.

  His body didn’t share his squeamishness about man-sex either. Parts of his anatomy that had never been there before were warming up in a hurry. As he walked along his patrol, the place between his legs became increasingly hot and moist. Feeling the response of his new female body only made the situation more arousing. Soon his nipples were standing out firm and erect, rubbing against the fabric of his tightly stretched t-shirt as his body swayed and jiggled with every step.

  Maybe he was disappointed after all. Exploring a female body had always been delightful. Exploring a female body from the inside might be even better. Either way it didn’t matter, of course. It was too late. All the troopers had paired off and he was left with nothing to do but pace the perimeter of the camp with soggy boxers.

  On the other hand, those female body parts were right there – not even an arm’s reach away. He hadn’t been this close to a pussy in more than a year. It would be a shame to waste the opportunity. Quantrill turned his back to the camp and slowly slid his free hand down the front of his fatigue pants.

  He knew what to expect down there – Quantrill wasn’t stupid – but it was still a shock when he found his penis completely gone. He had gotten used to it being there over the years. Even so, his shock lasted only a moment, because his fingers soon found something else. Thick, puffy outer labia – soft, squishy, and hot with increased circulation. They felt delightful under his probing fingers. Even more, it felt exquisite to run his fingertips over the sensitive skin.

  With an eager grin, he slipped a finger in between the engorged lips and plunged into hot wetness. His inner lips parted like the petals of a delicate flower, sending waves of heat and pleasure through his body. Quantrill wasn’t ready for the intensity of the sensations – his knees felt weak and his heart raced.

  “Mmmmm,” he moaned in his new soft, high-pitched voice. The night had been full of moans and cries of pleasure, but his own involuntary squeal sounded much louder to his ears. The sound jerked Quantrill out of his reverie. What was he doing? He was on duty! He had a responsibility to his platoon and to Lieutenant Hardaway to keep watch. He couldn’t let them down by finger banging himself while on patrol!

  Quantrill yanked his hand out of his pants and turned to march along the perimeter. He stood up straight and scanned the surrounding area. From the outside he looked like a perfect Marine – at least he would have if not for the enormous breasts and full hips. Inside, however, he was quivering with excitement. His heart rate was off the chart. Quantrill was glad he wasn’t hooked up to the vital monitoring in his armor. One look at his heart rate and adrenaline levels would have made it clear what he was up to.

  His patrol shift seemed to last forever, but it was over eventually. The Lieutenant roused two Marines out of their PECS to take over guard duty. Quantrill went along the line looking for an unoccupied tent. In the privacy of his shelter he would be able to finish what he had started earlier – that was something to look forward to at least.

  “Quantrill,” Lieutenant Hardaway called out. “My tent is at the end of the row.”

  Quantrill turned to the Lieutenant with a confused expression. Why would Hardaway want Quantrill to use his own tent? He usually slept alone – it was the privilege of command. Suddenly Quantrill understood: he was Hardaway’s choice. The Lieutenant intended to fuck him. He stared at his commanding officer with eyes as wide as dinner plates.

  “Get moving,” the Lieutenant ordered. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “Yes, sir,” Quantrill acknowledged and walked slowly to the Lieutenant’s PECS. The situation was decidedly not covered by his training, but a Marine always knows how to follow orders.

  Hardaway’s combat shelter was predictably tidy. A simple bedroll was rolled out along one side. The Lieutenant’s battle armor was arranged along the other. Quantrill crept into the tent, being extra careful not to disturb anything. He squatted in the center of the fabric floor and waited.

  Hardaway slipped inside a few minutes later. He zipped up the flap and sat down on the bedroll without giving Quantrill so much as a look. The Lieutenant continued to ignore the young Marine as he unlaced his boots and tugged them off. Then Hardaway pulled his gray t-shirt over his head, revealing a broad, powerful chest with a smattering of dark, wiry hairs.

  Quantrill felt heat rise to his face. Could this get more embarrassing? His commanding officer was undressing right in front of him. He quickly realized, however, that the heat he felt was only partly because of embarrassment. The Lieutenant’s strong, lean masculinity connected with something in Quantrill’s new body. He felt an urge to run his fingers over Hardaway’s golden brown skin and feel the hardness of the muscle underneath. A good part of the heat he felt was the heat of desire. That realization only amplified his embarrassment.

  “Maybe I should wait outside,” Quantrill said in a rush.

  “That would defeat the purpose, Q,” the Lieutenant said wryly. He hooked his thumbs into the waist of his fatigue pants and raised his hips to pull them down. He looked at Quantrill for the first time and frowned. “You should be undressing, too, you know.”

  “Yes, sir,” Quantrill agreed. He began to fidget half-heartedly with the buttons on his baggy fatigue pants. The Lieutenant slipped out of his pants and undershorts. He was already erect! His swollen cock sprang loose. Quantrill stopped and stared. Hardaway was much larger than he would have expected. Quantrill hadn’t seen many penises in his life, but he had definitely seen his own plenty of times. The Lieutenant’s was easily ten centimeters longer and more than twice as thick.

  “You want to put that in me?” Quantrill exclaimed. There was no way the narrow slit between his legs would accommodate that much meat. The Lieutenant was going to split him in two!

  “No
t until you ask for it,” Hardaway said with a hungry leer.

  “Eek,” Quantrill made a soft squeak. Why would he ask for it? There was no way! He was beginning to feel like a small animal pinned down by a ferocious predator – too helpless to fight back and too terrified to run.

  Hardaway crawled over the bedroll toward him like some sort of jungle cat – graceful, powerful, and dangerous. Quantrill wanted to back away – he didn’t know what he was getting himself into – but his body refused to obey his commands. Besides, there was nowhere to go.

  The Lieutenant edged closer, holding Quantrill in place with his piercing gaze. He reached for the hem of Quantrill’s standard issue t-shirt. Quantrill gasped as warm fingertips slipped under his shirt and glided over his smooth skin. The Lieutenant’s exploring fingers left trails of electricity across Quantrill’s tight midsection. Still he didn’t look away from Hardaway’s deep blue eyes.

  “Raise your arms,” Hardaway instructed. Quantrill did as he was told and the Lieutenant flipped the shirt up over his head. Quantrill felt the cool night air on his bared breasts and drew in a quick breath. For a minute, Quantrill thought the Lieutenant would leave him that way – his heavy, round tits exposed and his head and arms wrapped up in his shirt – but eventually Hardaway yanked the shirt all the way off.

  “God, you are sexy,” Hardaway growled. He put one hand at the small of Quantrill’s back and pulled their bodies together. Hardaway’s other hand found a soft, round breast and his lips found Quantrill’s own.

  The kiss was so sudden – and so thorough – that Quantrill had opened his mouth to Hardaway’s seeking tongue before he even realized what he was doing. His head was spinning. Briefly he wondered if he should be kissing his commanding officer this way, but that thought was fleeting. Chills spread down his back from his neck to his narrow waist and heat radiated out from his middle.

  What was happening? He had been turned on often enough – he was a young man, after all – but he had never felt so … so out of control. He was absolutely at the mercy of Lieutenant Hardaway. Somehow that realization turned him on even more.