Personnel Transfer - Part 1
by Roger Ball

Chapter 1

"I report my return aboard, sir," I recited automatically to the Officer of
the Deck (OOD) after having rendered a crisp salute to the colours astern.
The OOD, QMC Stephen Frichett, returned my salute with a morose "Very well"
and returned to his podium off to the side of the quarterdeck.  I asked the
Chief if the Skipper was aboard and he shook his head in the negative.  I
found his lack of bearing to be a bit unprofessional...hell, a lot
unprofessional, given that Frichett is a seasoned Chief and I am the ship's
Executive Officer (XO), but morale is difficult to maintain when you're
taking your ship to her decommissioning.  It wouldn't be long before our
ship, the USS Plunkett (FFG-44), a ship we all have come to consider our
home away from home, would be stricken from the rolls and cut up into
razorblades.

What a dreary end to a proud life of service to the nation, I thought, as I
looked around at the grey and dingy surroundings of the Philadelphia Naval
Shipyard.  Even the Plunkett's last port of call is itself dying a slow and
tortuous death, another victim of the base closures in the military's
drawdown.  Not that I've ever held any great love for the shipyard; to me,
Philadelphia and its environs have always been cold, run-down and
depressing.  But, maybe that's because I've only managed to visit the City
of Brotherly Love during the winter months.

Well, it won't be long before I'm back in Norfolk with Trish.  I have to
thank the Powers-That-Be that we both received orders keeping us in our
current homeport after the decommissioning crew is broken up, ensuring that
we'd be together for at least another 2-3 years.  Not that the Bureau of
Naval Personnel was looking out for our interests; in fact, if they knew
that LCDR Jack Bateman and LT Trish O'Neal were sleeping together, they
would have sent us to opposite ends of the earth.  Fraternization is not
only a court-martial offense under the Uniform Code of Military Justice,
but an unforgivable sin when the offenders are within the same chain of
command.  No, given the current attitudes in the post-Tailhook Navy, Trish
and I are forced to keep our affections hidden from even our closest
friends until long after one or both of us has left the service.  What an
irony that the regulations that were imposed to maintain decency among coed
crews keeps us from making our relationship honourable.

As I made my way up the grey passageway to my stateroom, I felt the usual
pangs of guilt and frustration caused by the double standard that I was
allowing myself to live by.  Here I was, irritated by the lack of
professionalism on Chief Frichett's part, while I, the disciplinarian in
the crew, slept covertly with one of my department heads.  I hated the
situation, but I couldn't help myself.  One look at the woman waiting for
me in my cabin and I could rationalize anything.

Although she was fully dressed in her bland khaki working uniform, there
was no camouflaging Trish's sexual allure.  If nothing else, her body
pushed her uniform out in ways that excited me to no end.  It has always
been a source of amazement for me that she can look so completely different
from me, wearing basically the same articles of clothing I do.  As she rose
from the chair next to my desk to greet me, I could not keep my eyes from
her massive chest, which constantly strained to burst the buttons loose
that held her blouse closed.  Normal men are satisfied with much less, but
for me, the bigger the boobs the better.  Even after all the times we have
spent together and the fact that my love for her transcended the physical,
I still drooled over the sight of her enormous breasts.  I have never seen
anyone as naturally well-endowed as her, at least that weren't obese
everywhere else.  Judging by where her eyes were focused, she was having
similar thoughts about my rapidly-growing cock, which, I am proud to say,
is larger than the industry standard.  At that moment, we were no longer
supervisor and subordinate, but instead a pair of lust-filled sexual
beings.  The luckiest beings on the planet.

"Jack, I came by to go over those E-5 evals..." she began, masking her
visits to my stateroom as always behind the guise of work.  I cut her off
by pulling her tight against me and kissing her deeply.  As her breasts
pushed against me with their abundant softness, my cock fought back with a
growing erection.  With the door locked firmly behind us, we kissed long
and deep while letting our hands explore the other's body.  The moment
broke, however, when she scraped her cheek painfully across the warfare
specialty insignia on my left chest.

"Let me fix that," I said as I started to take off my shirt.  Smiling
coquettishly, she began to unbutton her own blouse slowly, drawing out my
excitement at the unveiling of her endless cleavage.  I didn't even notice
her blouse slipping away as she hefted her bra-covered tits in her small
hands, pushing them together and lifting them towards me, an mesmerizing
invitation.

"Do you want me to leave the bra on?" she asked.  I have found that the
sight of her formidable bra (the tag reads Goddess 34H Beige) holding that
massive titflesh in can be just as exciting as that of her melons swinging
free.  So, sometimes, as I did now, I ask her to keep the garment on, at
least while I bury my face in the depths of her cleavage.  Somehow, most of
our clothes quickly ended up on the floor.  I paused long enough in my
nibbling and caressing to find myself lying on my rack (which was pulled
down sometime during our groping) with Trish perched atop me, the cups of
her swollen bra hanging over my head.  I reached up around the small of her
back and unfastened the myriad of bra clasps, one by one.  With the last
giving way, she grabbed the underwires and pulled the garment up and away,
freeing her gigantic boobs to sway in my face.  I responded by
alternatively sucking on each engorged nipple until she built to her first
orgasm.  I have always been a 'tit man' and this to me was heaven.

We were soon locked into our favourite position - she, because of her small
frame and huge breasts, preferred to ride my hard cock while I fondled and
suckled her breasts from below.  I didn't see it as a 'domination' thing -
her being on top, that is - it's just that with our endowments, we enjoyed
each other better that way.  As usual, when I came, she lowered herself to
smother me with her tits.  I always felt I might die some day in this
manner and the thought didn't bother me in the least.

After the orgasms died away, we embraced each other tightly.  She was
laying on top of me, her breasts lying along either side of my neck, with
my cock still semi-hard inside of her.  Her beautiful green eyes, her soft
auburn hair, the impish smile on her face and the way her body molded
against mine - these were some of the details I registered during those
heady moments of afterglow.  As rational thought returned, I was about to
say something about how lucky we were that nobody needed the XO for those
few minutes when all of a sudden, the world began to vibrate.

I don't remember much thereafter.  I do remember seeing the look of
surprise on Trish's face and hearing her teeth chatter uncontrollably.  The
dust that suddenly sprang from everywhere, causing the air to turn opaque.
The shear fright from the vibration that seemed ready to tear apart my very
innards.  The pain of our embrace as we clutched each other, just before
the darkness and oblivion.

Chapter 2

I awoke to what seemed to be a blinding light.  Through the pain of a
searing headache, I was able to focus on the light and determine that the
sun outside was shining almost directly through the single porthole into my
stateroom.  This in itself was odd, since the day had been heavily overcast
just a moment before.  Or had it been only a moment?  What had happened to
us?  I pushed up from my prone position and received the shock of my life.

I was looking down at my own naked body lying beside me on my rack.
Several thoughts occurred simultaneously (i'm dead and my soul has left my
body and my head hurts so much and where is trish?!?).  It was at that
moment that I became aware of the loose weights pulling at the skin on the
front of my chest.  What I saw next will always stay with me - the sight of
my chest extending downward into two enormous breasts.  A jolt shot through
my being, causing my fleshy appendages to swung back and forth, giving me
the alien sensation of one breast rubbing loosely against another.  I knew
beyond a shadow of a doubt that somehow, some way, I was looking out
through Trish's eyes at her feminine body.

Kneeling on the bed, I reached between my legs, my forearm brushing against
the side of my (!) right boob, and found confirmation of my sex.  I could
not see past all that hanging flesh, but I could distinctly feel the
crevice between my legs, where I was accustomed to feeling my penis and
testicles.  What the hell was going on?!?

The body on the rack next to me groaned and shifted position slightly,
bringing me out of my self-exploration.  Could Trish be in my body?  I
leaned over what used to be my body, my hanging breasts dragging along the
masculine chest.  I shook the shoulders of the other body, causing my boobs
to quiver heavily.  My old face slowly came to life as another intelligence
animated its features.  The eyes (mine!) opened and stared at me
uncomprehendingly for what seemed to an eternity before I saw recognition
sink in.  "What....?!?" was the only word to come out of my old face, just
before the strangest thing happened.  I was looking at my own face, like I
have countless times in the mirror, when it assumed a very Trish-like
expression.  I knew at that moment that we had somehow switched bodies,
just like in that old Thorne Smith movie.

"Trish, something has happened..." was the best I could manage.  The look
of fear on her face gave way to an almost-familiar look of bewilderment and
confusion as she looked directly into my eyes.

"Trish, I'm Jack and I think we've...switched bodies somehow," I hastily
added.  My new voice sounded strange to my ears, and I unconsciously
cleared my throat before continuing.  "I'm in your body and you seem to be
in my body," I babbled, "can you say anything?"

She closed her mouth and I could tell she was starting to get a hold on her
senses.  After a moment, she gave a brief nod and answered simply in the
affirmative.  I rose off her, my breasts sticking lightly to her chest as I
moved away, and she rose to a sitting position.  Her hands went first to
her chest, obviously searching for the pendulous breasts that were no
longer there, then down to gingerly grasp her new genitalia.  As she held
the flaccid member, it started to enlarge.  She turned to me with wide eyes
and said, "Jack....?"

"I know, I feel it, too," I answered, as my hands began to caress the
fullness of my breasts, almost on their own.  The pain of my headache had
receded, to be replaced with a growing excitement fed by the feel of my new
anatomy.  I was amazed at the tingling I could feel in my crotch, just by
squeezing and kneading my titflesh.  I was lost for a moment or two in my
own feelings when I realized that we had to find out what happened to us.
Did it happen to others, too?

Without a word, I jumped up from the rack, misjudging the distance to the
floor in the process.  Not only were my swaying boobs a distraction, but I
was now much shorter than before.  I started to flail when my feet didn't
hit the floor when I expected, but I was able to catch the side of the rack
and steady myself.  After I stood upright, I could not believe how much
bigger my stateroom seemed.  Whereas I had to duck my head before to avoid
the air conditioning vent routing off the overhead piping, it appeared that
I could now only touch it on tiptoe.  If we have truly changed bodies, then
I have shrunk from 6'3" to Trish's 5'2".  My stance seemed wider and my
behind felt extraordinarily huge.  Trish had never suffered back problems
from the weight of her boobs because her short waist and large hips
balanced them out.  To me, though, it seemed that I extended crazily in
both directions.  I couldn't see my feet from front or back without falling
over.

I made my way to the mirror over the sink and was surprised to see Trish's
face in the reflection, even though I had expected it.  Her short but full
hair framed her face as usual, the features intimately familiar, but
something was different.  It took me a moment to realize that I was
animating her face in way she never had.  The look in those green eyes was
not Trish's, but mine.  The expressions - mine.  I had not become Trish,
but someone who looked almost, but not quite, like her.  I stood
transfixed, trying desperately to assimilate the image in the mirror with
the memory of what I used to be.

I was startled when my old face intruded upon the reflection.  Trish had
come over to stand behind me and glimpse her new self in the process.  We
looked like a parody of ourselves - familiar, yet alien.  She laid what
seemed to be a large hand on my shoulder and exclaimed, "It's true, then -
we have changed bodies."

I looked up at the reflection of her face and answered, "Something happened
to us during that vibration.  We've got to deal with this and find out
what's going on.  What if we're not the only ones affected?"

"But...we can't go out there like this...can we?" she implored.  "People
will know what's happened to us."

"We can't stay in here, either," I answered.  "We've got to find out what
happened.  We've got to find out how to change back.  Besides, we can't
stay here forever...sooner or later, someone is bound to come looking for
us."

I turned around and, on impulse, awkwardly hugged her.  My head came only
up to her chest, my breasts squashing against her hips.  She was so much
bigger than I, but then again, so was everything else now.  She returned my
embrace tightly, as though hanging on for dear life.  We stood that way for
a moment before I felt an erection growing against my stomach.

Embarrassed, I pushed away and turned from her.  I felt a stirring in my
crotch, too, much to my surprise.  We've got a situation here and already
I'm thinking with my dick...er, pussy.  It would have been easy to stay
right where we were and explore our new bodies, but there was certainly no
time for that.

"We should get dressed," I mumbled, without realizing the full import of
what I was saying.  I was stooping down to retrieve my boxers from the
floor when my hanging boobs slapped against my knees, reminding me that I
was going to have to wear a completely different outfit than before.  I
straightened up and looked at Trish, with what must have been a priceless
expression on my face.

"You're going to have to wear my bra and panties," she began, before
succumbing to a fit of giggling.  The whole ludicrous situation and her
infectious laughter was too much for me - I soon had tears rolling
uncontrollably down my cheeks.  It felt as if all the tension was bubbling
up out of my gut as Trish and I stood in the middle of my stateroom, in
each other's bodies, laughing so hard that we couldn't stop.

After a while, our giggling finally subsided.  I was cradling my massive
tits in my arms to keep them from swinging all over the place, and Trish
was rubbing her side where she had gotten a pain in her side from laughing
so hard.

"Well, that sure lightened things up," she said, as she fell on to my rack.
"Go ahead," she continued as she lay propped up on her stomach, "you get
dressed first.  This, I've got to see."

I found her panties and slid them up my legs and over my wide hips.  I
couldn't help running my hand up the smooth mound of my crotch, marveling
at the smoothness where before there would have been a misshapen lump.  I
picked up her bra and looked at it for a moment, trying to decide how I
wanted to attack it.  Trish watched me from the rack with a bemused,
betcha-can't-do-it expression.  I resolved to meet her challenge.

As I've seen Trish do on many an occasion, I clasped her
industrial-strength bra backwards around my waist, then rotated the
contraption around.  Lifting one breast at a time, I scooped my heavy tits
into the cups as I pulled the straps up over my shoulders.  Bending forward
at the waist, I grabbed the bra straps and by shaking my shoulders, caused
my breasts to settle fully and comfortably into the cups.  A couple more
adjustments, and I even got my nipples to line up horizontally.  I stood in
front of the mirror in bra and panties and was unexpectedly aroused by my
own reflection.  Standing sideways, I was amazed how far my breasts, now
supported by the bra, protruded from my torso.

Trish watched me examine my new shape in the mirror and remarked, "Looks
like you've been paying attention, lover.  You handled those babies like
you've had them all your life."  She was obviously enjoying this a little
too much.  I responded by raising my arms over my head and shaking my bosom
for her, teasing her like she's teased me so many times in the past.

I can't deny that I enjoyed it, however.  I liked the view I had of my deep
cleavage, one I could have now just by looking down.  I have always loved
the roundness and heft of Trish's breasts and they were now always there
for my touch.  I could even suck on my own nipples if I wanted and that
thought made my nipples start to tingle and enlarge.  To hide my
'erection', I hurriedly pulled on Trish's uniform blouse, but neither the
thick material of the bra nor the blouse could hide the two small lumps
pushed outwards by my erect nipples.  As I fumbled with my buttons (which
were now on the other side of the blouse), I couldn't take my eyes off the
smooth new three-dimensionality of my chest.  With great reluctance, I
fastened the top button, cutting off the stimulating view of my seemingly
bottomless cleavage.

I started to put on my pants, but Trish stopped me.  "Jack, if you're going
to wear my uniform, you're going to need these," she said, as she handed me
a pair of long elastic bands.  "A Marine friend of mine once showed me that
by attaching one end of these straps to the tail of my blouse and the other
to my socks, my blouse will always look tucked in, even with boobs as big
as mine."

I took the straps and sat cross-legged on the floor to put on my socks.  My
breasts naturally got in the way of everything - I just couldn't seem to
get around my swollen chest.  I fastened the elastic straps and then stood
up.  It felt strange to have the elastic run down the side of my leg, but
the straps did do a good job of keeping my shirt pulled down (which also
served to emphasize the shape of my tits) and my socks pulled up.  Pulling
my trousers on then proved to be a breeze, because I didn't have to worry
about keeping a 'tuck' in my shirt.  My only problem was that I couldn't
see my waist under my boobs while fastening my pants and belt and was
forced to shuffle over to the mirror to check my 'gig line'.

Now that I was mostly dressed, it was Trish's turn.  When I turned to look
at her, her face was flushed.  Before I could say anything, she said, "I
have to go to the bathroom, but how do I deal with this?"  She gestured
down towards her fully erect penis.

"What'd you do, get a hard-on while watching me dress?" I asked
sarcastically.

"I don't know, Jack, it just happened all by itself," she replied morosely.
"I want it to get soft again, but it doesn't seem to want to go down."

I felt sorry for her embarrassment and led her over to the toilet.  I told
her to lean forward while holding herself off the toilet tank with her left
hand, while bending her erect cock downwards with her right.  She
complained that it hurt too much, so we tried having her sit on the seat,
after guiding her penis down into the bowl.  She ended up not quite sitting
on the seat, but managed to let loose and get it all in the bowl.
Afterwards, she pulled some toilet paper off and gingerly wiped the
remaining drops off the tip of her cock.

"Guys shake it off, you know," I reproached her.

"Yes, I know, but it's too stiff and I didn't want to get it all over the
place," she said.  "Which reminds me, you can't shake yours off, you know,
and if you don't wipe, you can get an infection."

Great.  So far, the size of my breasts seemed to be my biggest physical
problem, mostly because they were so huge and right there in front of me,
getting in the way of everything.  I hadn't even thought of less obvious
things like yeast infections, periods and PMS.  It was too easy to get
overwhelmed.  First things first - we had to find out what happened and if
our condition was permanent.

Luckily for Trish, her erection went down after she peed, and she had no
problem putting on my uniform.  It was strange watching her put on a
uniform shirt adorned with my insignia, ribbons and nametag - I was
watching her assume my identity.

"How's it feel to be promoted?" I asked, eyeing the gold oak leaf insignia
of a Lieutenant Commander that glittered on the collars of the shirt she
was putting on.

"It's good to be the XO," she replied, paraphrasing the punch line and
mimicking the haughty look made famous by Mel Brooks in History of the
World, Part 1.  She took a step forward, still with that mock superior
look....and banged her head right into the air conditioning vent.

"Shit!  I totally forgot I'm your height now," she cursed, rubbing her
forehead.

"Don't forget that when we head out into the passageway," I cautioned.  "If
you don't duck your head the same time you step over the kneeknockers,
you'll knock yourself out cold."  The oblong openings in each transverse
bulkhead, nicknamed 'kneeknockers' by sailors for their tendency to catch
the unwary on the shin, had caught my head too many times in the past - and
I was accustomed to being tall!

"I'll keep that in mind," Trish replied as she sat down to put on her
shoes.  "I can't get over the freedom of not having my boobs in the way of
everything I do.  It almost... ooohhhhhh!!"

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know..." she whined.  "I just had a sharp pain...down there...and
now I have this horrendous ache.  I think I squashed my balls, or
something."

"Oh, you have to be careful of that," I explained as Trish rocked in agony
on the rack.  "You probably caught a ball under your leg and than can hurt
for a couple of minutes.  Being well-endowed has its dangers, you know."

"Wait until you roll over on a tit," Trish groaned.  "Then you'll see what
being well-endowed is all about."

A shout and the sound of running feet outside in the passageway cut short
our conversation.

Chapter 3

 "Remember, you're me and I'm you," I cautioned before I opened the door.
"People are going to expect you to act as the XO."

"Got it," Trish replied.  "Just stay close in case I need you.  Damn - I
can't get over how small everything seems now."

I nodded and taking a deep breath, opened the door to the outside world.  I
experienced a brief moment of panic, similar to the kind you have in dreams
when you find yourself naked in public.  I felt like I was dressed in drag
and that everyone would see the XO dressed up in girl's clothes.  However,
the movement of the breasts under my shirt, the bra straps cutting into my
shoulder and the tightness of my trousers against my smooth crotch drove
home the point that I wasn't wearing some disguise - I was, for all intents
and purposes, all woman.  When my shipmates looked at me, they would be
seeing LT O'Neal, not LCDR Bateman.

The passageway was dark, lit only at intervals by the emergency battle
lanterns that are designed to cut in during a main power failure.  I
started to lead the way to the quarterdeck, when it occurred to me that we
weren't playing our roles.

Turning to Trish, I said, "You lead the way, sir."  Trish looked aback for
an instant, then brushed past me to take the lead.  Watching her pass, I
whispered, "Watch your walk...you don't look very...manly."  Trish was
never overly-feminine, but she wasn't mannish, either.  She wasn't moving
effeminately now, but neither did she look entirely convincing as me,
either.

This thought led me to wonder how I was doing.  I looked behind at my butt
to see if I was swaying my hips like a girl, and I was...sort of.  My hip
joints did seem to work differently and I concentrated on trying to move
naturally, which of course, probably made me look ludicrous.  I was just
glad that I was wearing Trish's flat-heeled uniform shoes, instead of high
heels.  I don't think I could have handled a new butt and heels at the same
time.

Of course, the one thing I was most aware of were my breasts.  With every
step, they jostled around within the confines of my bra and pulled heavily
on the straps over my shoulders.  After a few steps, I was able to settle
into rhythm that minimized their bounce and accommodated my hips.  I had a
little bit of sway going, but it felt comfortable - I guess this is what it
meant to walk like a woman.

Trish took great care to duck as we went through each kneeknocker, which I
was now able to step through without caution.  I could see sunlight up
ahead and we stepped through one last hatch opening to the weather deck
outside.

Trish stopped abruptly and I ran right into her.  I was about to ask her
what caused her to stop in the hatchway when I saw what she was looking at
- instead of the grey, overcast surroundings of the Philadelphia Naval
Shipyard, we were looking at the familiar, sunlit approaches to Hampton
Roads!  What the hell...we were back home in Norfolk!

I pushed past Trish and headed for the quarterdeck, not caring who was
leading the way.  I looked up and saw members of the crew standing at the
railings, some excitedly pointing out familiar landmarks, some simply
standing quietly, staring at nothing.  I pushed past a couple of sailors,
who stared right at my tits before giving way.  There was a small crowd of
people around the quarterdeck and I had to physically shove (no mean feat,
given my reduced leverage) a couple to the side so that I could get
through.  I was not prepared for what I saw next.

Chief Fritchett was standing with his back to me, facing the bulkhead
behind the quarterdeck, a corpsman kneeling by his side.  There appeared to
be someone standing against the bulkhead itself, facing it, but something
was horribly wrong.  The body against the bulkhead had no head, left leg or
right arm and the body itself looked like it was pressed flatter than
humanely possible against the steel.  I worked my way up to the scene so
that I could make sense of what I was seeing.  As I approached, Chief
Fritchett turned around, his gaze unfocused, his face white as a sheet.

"Chief, what's happened here?"  I asked.  My voice broke, partly because I
was not accustomed to my higher pitch, but mostly because of the knot of
fear that was growing in my gut.

His eyes seemed to focus on my chest, then finally on my face.  "I don't
know, ma'am...Hinsen got...stuck in the wall during that earthquake."

"What did you say, Chief?" Trish boomed out, having caught up with me.

"Hinsen's stuck in the wall, sir," Fritchett replied vacantly.  "Look for
yourself."

I did, but I could not believe what I was seeing.  It looked as though
Seaman Hinsen, whose name was clearly stenciled above the back pocket of
his denim trousers, had somehow melted into the hard steel of the bulkhead.
It looked as though he was frozen in a running position, with his head,
left leg, right arm and the entire front half of his body having already
pushed through to the other side.  The other side...

"Has anybody checked on what's on the other side of this bulkhead?!?" I
choked, trying hard to contain my growing fear and revulsion.  Chief
Fritchett returned his vacant stare down to me and I could see him begin to
slowly come alive.

"Murphy," he yelled.  "You and Henderson high-tail it inside and get to
other side of this bulkhead... should be somewhere aft of the wardroom in
the main passageway... NOW!!!"

Two sailors took off and headed for the nearest hatch into the
superstructure.  HM2 Collins, was had been tending to what we could see of
Hinsen's body, suddenly blurted out, "Chief, he's alive!!!  I've got a
pulse!!!"

Turning to Trish, I told her I'd be right back.  I ran after Murphy and
Henderson, the shifting weight of my breasts yanking my bra straps
uncomfortably.  I was aware that guys stared at my bouncing boobs as I ran
past, but I figured to hell with them.  Our whole world was turned upside
down, and all they could focus on were my tits!?!

I heard a high-pitched, "What the fuck?!?" ahead of me in the passageway
and headed for the sound.  Petty Officer Murphy was down on the deck,
retching, and Seaman Henderson was staring slack-jawed at something in the
gloom.  I grabbed a battle lantern off its bracket and shined it in the
direction that Henderson was staring.

The image that immediately came to mind was that of Han Solo frozen into a
block of carbonite in the Star Wars movie series, his face and hands
emerging incongruously from out of the solid material.  Except this was no
movie, and the figure embedded in the bulkhead was a shipmate.  Seaman
Hinsen's face extended from the grey steel, his expression horrific in its
supreme agony.  Lower down the wall, an arm, torso and leg protruded.  As I
watched, one of Hinsen's eyes moved and I dropped the lantern in shock.
All of a sudden, the dark passageway closed in on me and I had to get out
of there.  I ran towards the open hatchway and threw myself back out into
the sunlight.

What the hell has become of us?!?  I had to gather my wits and think, damn
it!  The vibration.  Trish and I swapping bodies.  Norfolk Naval instead of
Philadelphia.  Hinsen embedded into the skin of the ship.  What could have
caused this?  Something...something flicked at my memory.  For a fleeting
instant, the pattern of events seemed strangely familiar...as though I had
run across a similar situation before somewhere...but then that feeling
evaporated.  I tried in vain to recapture the thought, but the harder I
concentrated on it, the farther it fled.

I turned my face into the wind to help control the impulse to retch and
happened to look astern.  There, just aft of our fantail, I could see the
bow of the mothballed frigate that had been berthed behind us in
Philadelphia, only now it was sticking crazily out of the water, as if the
ship itself had broken in two and sunk.  As I watched, the scene aft moved
slightly.  Startled, I looked down at the mooring lines, only to see them
dangling in the water.  The gangplank off the quarterdeck was sliced in
half, the broken end simply resting on the adjacent pier.  I had been so
preoccupied with Hinsen that I never even noticed that until now.  By the
look of things, no one else had noticed, either!  Too much was happening,
too fast - I had to do something!

I ran back to the quarterdeck and yelled for Chief Frichett to sound
General Quarters.  Looking up at him, I could see the doubt in his face and
saw him glance over to Trish, who to him was the XO.  To her credit, Trish
ordered in an authoritative voice, "You heard her, Chief, get moving!"

The Chief walked over to the alarm panel and threw the GQ switch over.
After the first few gongs sounded, he grabbed the microphone for the 1MC
and shouted, "General Quarters, General Quarters.  All hands man your
battle stations!  This is NOT a drill!  All stations report to the OOD on
the quarterdeck!"  He repeated that verbiage again and then let the alarm
gongs continue.

I pulled Trish close and told her about the ship being adrift.  Trish
turned to the Chief and took the microphone from his hand.  "This is the XO
speaking.  Sea and Anchor Detail, man your stations - I say again, Sea and
Anchor Detail, do not go to your GQ stations, proceed instead to your
line-handling stations.  The ship is adrift from the pier."  She repeated
this once more and then shut off the GQ alarm.

As controlled panic ensued behind me, I leaned against a lifeline to steady
my thoughts, looking out across the Naval Station's piers.  Already, I
could see activity on and around the ships berthed closest to us, as our
alarm gongs and announcements could easily be heard by those ships.  It
wouldn't be long before people came in force to investigate.  Trish came up
behind me and leaned into my ear.  "What happened in there?" she asked
softly, so that no one around could hear.

"I don't know..." I replied.  "Somehow, Hinsen is suspended in the steel
bulkhead and he's still alive!"  I paused to mentally push that frightening
image aside and then continued, "I don't know what to do about this...I
haven't got the first clue how to help either Hinsen or us!  This is like
some X-Files episode that we're living here, and I don't even know where to
start to deal with this!"

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, everyone thinks I'm the XO, and
with the Skipper off the ship, they're looking to me for leadership.  And
it's damn hard to come up with rational thought when I have a dick dangling
down my pants!"

"You think I don't know that?" I countered.  "I'm surrounded by giants, and
even with the world gone crazy, everyone's more interested in staring at my
tits!"

"Get used to it, Jack," Trish counseled.  "Guys have always talked to my
boobs, you included."  She banged her hand on the stanchion in frustration.
"Shit, we shouldn't be talking about this now - what happened to us is
nothing compared to what I'm hearing from the reports!  Chief Frichett was
telling me that in addition to Hinsen there, one of his watchstanders
spontaneously combusted during the vibration!  And according to others,
there may have been similar incidents throughout the ship!"

Chief Frichett broke in at this point and reported to Trish.  "Sir, Sea and
Anchor reports that our mooring lines are in place, but that they were cut.
They are in the process now of running new lines to the pier next to us.
Luckily, the tide is holding us in, so we shouldn't have any trouble tying
up again.  In addition, the aft detail reports we have the bow of a sunken
ship directly behind us and they believe it was the same one mothballed
behind us in Philly."

Trish acknowledged the report, thinking that was all.  Chief Frichett, in a
less-assured manner continued softly, "And sir...Hinsen has died.  Collins
doesn't hold a pulse any more."

I was about to respond to this when I was interrupted by the sight of three
white government vans with yellow roof-mounted flashers turning onto and
racing down our pier.  The vans screeched to a halt just opposite the
wreckage of our gangplank and several civilians, mingled with a couple of
military types, piled out of them.

A Navy captain, wearing khakis and a black windbreaker, called out to us,
"What ship is this?"

I was about to answer out of reflex, but Trish beat me to it, "This is the
Plunkett from Philadelphia!  We've suffered a mishap and have several
casualties aboard!  Can you call for an ambulance?"

The Captain motioned to one of the civilians, who jumped back into the lead
van and spoke into a microphone.  The Captain turned back to us and asked
if they could come aboard.  Trish replied that the gangplank was severed,
but if they could climb it they could come aboard.  I watched as the
occupants of the vans hauled themselves up the steep gradient of the
damaged gangplank.  Trish, Chief Frichett and I walked over to greet the
newcomers.  Trish introduced herself as LCDR Bateman, XO of the Plunkett.

"Is your Commanding Officer aboard?" the Captain asked.

"No, sir, Commander Applegate was ashore in Philly when we suffered our..."
Trish glanced at me. "...mishap."

"You say you have personnel casualties?" the Captain pressed.

"Yes, sir, we have at least one fatality and reports of maybe more..."
Trish paused, choosing her words carefully, "...all under strange
circumstances."  She glanced uneasily at me.

The Captain surprised me by not pressing Trish for details.  Instead, he
leaned close to her and asked if he could talk with her in private in her,
rather, my cabin.  Trish agreed, with the provision that I be included.
The Captain looked down at me and with obvious reluctance, nodded his
assent.  Trish caught the attention of Chief Fritchett, who was busy with
the civilians that had accompanied our nameless Captain, just long enough
to tell him where we'd be.  The Chief nodded his understanding before
turning his attention back to the visitors, who were swarming over the
now-lifeless hulk that used to be Hinsen and a peculiar burn mark behind
the watchstander's podium.

Chapter 4

Trish led us to my cabin as easily as if she lived there, which should have
come as no surprise, given how often she visited me there.  I turned one
corner too sharply and snagged the front of my puffed-out shirt on a hatch
dogging mechanism, much to Trish's amusement.  Fate evened the score a
minute later when she banged her head into the doorway of my cabin after
she had ushered us in.

The Captain paid no attention to our follies; instead, he flopped down in
my desk chair and wasted no time getting straight to the subject.  "My name
is CAPT Mike Harris and you'll probably recognize the Naval Systems Command
emblem on my nametag.  However, at the moment, I am temporarily assigned to
a branch of DARPA that deals with deep black projects.  Are you following
me so far?"

Trish and I both sat down on the couch that doubled as my rack and nodded,
being familiar enough with the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency
and the term "deep black project" to know that was as much detail as we
needed to know.

"Commander", CAPT Harris continued, staring purposefully at Trish, "have
you ever read any popular fiction about the so-called 'Philadelphia
Project'?"

My breath caught (oh my god he can't be serious) because I knew immediately
what he was talking about.  The almost-thought I had up on deck was now
crystal clear - the vibration, Hinsen fused to the steel bulkhead, our
physical relocation from Philadelphia to Norfolk - it was all so similar to
what I had read in sensational accounts of the (what I assumed was
fictional) 'Philadelphia Project' of World War II!

I could tell by the confused look on Trish's (my old) face that she hadn't
heard of it.  I covered by asking, "Isn't that the story of the World War
II project that was supposed to apply Einstein's Unified Field theory to a
naval vessel, in order to make it invisible?"  CAPT Harris turned to me in
surprise.  "Yes, the Philadelphia Project, or Project Rainbow, as it was
officially known, attempted to render ships invisible to radar....I'm
sorry, I didn't get your name, Lieutenant..."

"O...O'Neal, sir," I responded, tripping over my new name.  "I'm the Ops
Officer.  I've read stories about the Philadelphia Project and even caught
the Philadelphia Experiment on video a few years back, but I never thought
any of that actually happened."

"Yes, well, a lot of hoohah has attached itself to what was a genuine
event, and despite what you may have read or seen in the movie, there were
no UFOs, aliens or time-travel involved."

"What did happen, sir?" Trish asked, leaning forward intently.

"I don't have time now to give you all the details, but it's important that
you at least have a sense of what's happened to your ship, Commander."
CAPT Harris leaned back in his chair, looking weary all of a sudden.  "The
Project originally started back in the 1930s at the University of Chicago,
where Nickola Tesla and a team of scientists and engineers began to
investigate methods for making objects and people invisible.  The effort
eventually transferred to Princeton, where a Dr. Von Neumann joined the
team."

"Excuse me, sir," Trish interrupted.  "But the name Tesla sounds
familiar..."

CAPT Harris snorted.  "Most people today think Tesla is some rock band.
But Nickola Tesla was an electrical engineer who invented the coil which
became the basis for the AC induction motor.  His research into AC
generation and distribution, wireless communications and electrical power
transmission laid the groundwork not only for radio and television, but
also for today's modern power industry."

Turning to me, he continued, "As you mentioned, Lieutenant, Professor
Einstein started working on what he called the "United Field Theory for
Gravitation and Electricity", but ended up retracting it before he finished
it.  Tesla's team derived a concept from Einstein's incomplete theory, that
the generation of an incredibly intense magnetic field around an object
would cause the refraction or bending of radar waves around that object, to
develop a system that would render an object virtually invisible to radar.
What they found during initial experiments was that they could not only
render an object partially invisible to active sensors, but also to
optical.  In other words, a strong enough magnetic field could render an
object invisible to observers by refracting light waves around the object."

"The Navy came on board with the Project and the effort concentrated on
developing a physical system for rendering a ship invisible.  Tesla's team
conducted a test in 1940 using an small unmanned boat and the system
actually worked - power from a support vessel was supplied to generators
aboard the test ship, which vibrated, then gradually became transparent to
the naked eye!"

"With that success, the Project became highly classified and shifted into
high gear.  Tesla disagreed with the Navy about continuing the experiments
with human test subjects and resigned as a result.  Dr. Von Neumann took
over the project and oversaw the installation of the system aboard the USS
Eldridge, a destroyer escort that was just coming out of the yards."

"In July of 1943, a test was conducted in the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard
with a volunteer crew aboard.  The ship became invisible to radar and
optical sensors for a short time, but a problem with generator
synchronization caused disorientation among the crew.  Von Neumann asked
for more time to address the problem and was given less than a month."
"The Navy felt that the crew's disorientation was due to the magnitude of
power used to generate the magnetic field and that by lowering the power
until it was just strong enough to deflect radar waves, the crew should not
suffer any adverse affects.  Optical invisibility was expected to be lost,
since it was felt that defraction of light waves required a stronger field.
Given the imposed deadline, this trade-off seemed to be prudent, but Von
Neumann felt that the Navy was over-simplifying the problem.  With great
reluctance, Von Neumann conducted a full test on 28 October 1943.  The
Eldridge got underway from Philly and headed out to sea, accompanied by an
observation ship."

CAPT Harris paused here, and the tension in the stateroom was palpable.
With a glance that measured how well we were digesting this information, he
continued, "The order to start the generators was given, and at first,
everything operated better than planned.  A fog enveloped the ship, caused
by the stirring of dust and microorganisms by the intense vibration, and
then fog and ship disappeared, leaving only a trace of the waterline in the
water.  Even at the lower power output, the ship was still rendered
invisible to the naked eye.  Suddenly, however, there was a blue flash and
the ship disappeared entirely.  All attempts to raise the ship failed.
After several minutes, the ship reappeared, but it was obvious something
had gone wrong.  The forward mast was broken.  There were no crewmembers
standing on deck.  A boarding party found almost all the crew present were
violently ill, but those were the lucky ones.  Others had disappeared
entirely - no trace was ever found of them.  The most gruesome discovery
was that about five sailors were found fused into the deck or bulkhead,
embedded in the steel of the ship."

Hinsen.  His face coming out of the steel bulkhead, face frozen in agony.
The eye that moved - my God, WHAT HAD THESE PEOPLE DONE TO US!?!

I didn't realize that I had screamed out the last of my thoughts until I
noticed the startled expression on the face of CAPT Harris.  Trish looked
like she was in shock.  I leaned forward in my chair until I could feel my
breasts pressing into my thighs.  Pointing at the Captain, I continued a
little more calmly, "Have you seen the casualties we've taken?  What you've
described as an experiment gone wrong has happened to us here.  I've seen
one shipmate 'embedded in the steel of the ship' as you say and heard
reports of others.  People have died here, and for what?!?  Another damn
experiment?!?"

"Lieutenant, I understand you're upset," CAPT Harris responded, with that
look of weariness again, "but what happened here was an accident.  Please,
let me continue - you need to know this information before we go back out
there."

I forced myself to lean back.  Trish remained immobile.

CAPT Harris continued, "After the disastrous experiment in 1943, the
Project was shut down.  However, people continued to review the results and
the problem with the crew was eventually solved.  It never was a question
of power output - it turned out that living beings are locked to a
different time reference than are inanimate things.  Over the years, we
have been able to synchronize the time references of people to objects for
the purposes of this type of experiment."

"What I didn't mention is that during the time the Eldridge disappeared,
she reappeared at Norfolk Naval for a short time before returning to
Philadelphia.  At the time, this was more accident than purpose, but I
mention it because there is some relation to why you find yourself in
Norfolk now.  But, I'll get back to that in a minute."

"Like I said, the time-reference problem was worked out.  Several tests
have been successfully conducted where ships, with crew aboard, have been
rendered invisible to radar.  I'm not talking Stealth here - this is
by-God-invisibility with a radar cross-section of zero.  We were confident
enough to develop a floating platform that could generate and transmit a
magnetic field around another ship, which saves us from having to retrofit
generators and special equipment aboard each ship in the fleet.  It was
this that we were testing in Philadelphia and what appears to have involved
your ship."

"Wait a minute," I interrupted.  "Something's missing here.  You mentioned
earlier that the transferal of the Eldridge to Norfolk was accidental.  Yet
you and your people were already here when we appeared.  Are you saying you
are only interested in the refraction of radar and light rays, or are you
also experimenting with teleportation?"

CAPT Harris appraised me silently for a moment before answering.  "You're
pretty sharp, young lady," he said, causing me a flash of irritation and
breaking Trish out of her vacant stare, "we were successful in transporting
a test ship from Philadelphia to Norfolk using a remote transmitter; in
fact, that ship is resting four piers down from here, right where we
intended.  What hasn't been determined is how you and half of the ship that
was docked behind you were drawn here with the test ship.  You see, you
were not part of the test."

"That's some comfort!  Why didn't we know a test was going on?" Trish
demanded.  "There were no notices or warnings of any kind of special tests
in our area!  We were in the harbour, for Chrissakes, not in some EW
range!"

The Captain looked uncomfortable with his answer.  "You're right - you
weren't in the test area.  We did have a range reserved and hazards weren't
posted because of the safe distances allotted and the classification of the
project.  We don't yet know what happened, but one of the scientists up in
Philly has already speculated that the field propagated through the water
somehow and came up in a convergence zone right where you were docked...but
that's just a guess.  Whatever happened, you appear to have been pulled
along with our test ship to Norfolk."

"The important thing right now is to make you aware of what happened to
your ship and crew and provide proper medical attention to those that need
it.  After that, we will assess the damage and try to figure out what went
wrong.  I have to be frank with you," he said, turning to Trish, "the
casualties you have reported may be due to a distortion of the time
reference synch, in which case we can expect to find similarities between
your crew and the Eldridge's.  I want you to be ready for this, because
you're going to be in command of this ship and the rescue effort for the
next few hours, and you have to keep your wits about you until my boss gets
here to relieve you."

"What do you mean, 'relieve me'?" Trish asked.  "Captain Applegate is the
Commanding Officer of this ship - I'm acting CO until he reports aboard."

CAPT Harris smiled and replied gently, "Not to offend you, Commander, but
this ship has been involved in a Special Projects activity, however
inadvertently.  As such, we will assume command, and responsibility, for
this ship until she's released by the Project authority.  Your crew will be
treated, debriefed and reassigned in accordance with regulations.  Your CO
and the rest of the ship's crew that were off the ship, and still in
Philly, will be similarly debriefed.  I'm sorry that this happened to you,
but that's the way it is."

"What happened to the surviving crew of the Eldridge?" I broke in.  "In the
fictional accounts, they were silenced, one way or another.  At any rate,
there don't seem to be any eyewitness accounts from surviving Eldridge
crewmembers, so I guess the silence was total.  Is that what's going to
happen to us, too?"

The Captain stopped me with an icy glare.  "Don't recite tabloids to me,
Lieutenant.  I am a professional naval officer, not some evil government
lackey from TV.  I took the same oath to defend the Constitution that you
did, and I'm not in the habit of killing shipmates.  However, this is a
black project, one of which you and your crew are now a part of.  The same
regulations and procedures that apply to anyone involved in a sensitive
project apply to you now.  The reason why you haven't seen any eyewitness
accounts from the Eldridge is because those documents have yet to be
declassified.  After the situation here is stabilized, you will all be
briefed on the classification level and the penalties of compromising the
project."

"I realize that this is all happening too fast for you.  But, please try to
maintain your professionalism and we'll get along fine."

"We understand, Captain," Trish interposed.  "We'd like to discuss this for
a couple of minutes, if you don't mind.  We can join you on the
quarterdeck."

To his credit, CAPT Harris didn't argue with us.  He nodded, stood and left
the stateroom.  After he left, Trish turned to me and asked, " Do you
believe him?  I mean, this is all fantastic, but I guess it does explain
what happened to us, but...I don't know."  She slumped back in her chair,
confused and afraid.

I stood up, aware once again of my reduced stature, both physically and
authoritatively.  "Trish, you're right," I explained, "but everything we've
heard makes more sense than anything else I can come up with.  We've got to
assume that CAPT Harris is playing straight with us and proceed from there.
The only question now is what do you and I do?  If we bring up the fact
that we've swapped bodies, who's going to command?  I don't know if any of
the other officers are on board or if so, if they survived."

I paused for a moment while I considered the possibilities.  "The more I
think about it," I continued, "the more I'm convinced that we need to keep
up our charade until the situation settles down.  You've been doing great
so far - I don't think anybody has suspected anything unusual with us.
Besides, even if they did, it can be chalked up to the stress of the
situation.  After the crew is taken care of and you've 'been relieved', we
can approach the project scientists with our situation and see if anything
can be done."

Trish thought for a moment and then agreed.  She looked at me and asked,
"In the stuff you read about the Philadelphia Experiment, did any of the
crew swap bodies?"

"No," I answered.  "This is a new one on me, and I'm afraid, it will be on
them, too."

We looked at each other for a long moment, both understanding the
implication of that last statement.  Trish rose and I turned to hug her.
We clung to each other for what seemed like hours before I finally
suggested that we'd better go.

Trish released me, smoothed the flat front of her shirt and nodded.  "I
hate this command stuff," she murmured.  "Everyone is looking to me to be
calm and cool and make all the right decisions, but Goddammit, I'm scared
silly."

"Welcome to command, my dear," I countered lightly.  "That's what you get
paid the big bucks for."

"I'll believe that when I see my first Commander's paycheck," she laughed.
Taking one last deep breath to calm herself, she opened the door.

Chapter 5

Chief Frichett was on the quarterdeck phone when we returned, with CAPT
Harris nearby, obviously listening to the Chief's side of the conversation.
Seeing us, or rather, Trish in her role as XO, approach, he cut short the
exchange and hung up the phone.

"Sir," he started, addressing Trish, "all stations have reported in.  No
major material damage to report, but we have suffered numerous outages on
some of the more sensitive electronic gear.  We're working to draw up a
list of affected equipment."

He paused for a minute and then lowered his voice to almost a whisper, "We
found two others that were fused to the deck, like..."  the Chief glanced
towards the body of Hinsen, unable to say his name.  "Two others were found
dead, no cause yet determined.  Six others are unaccounted for, four of
which may have been topside when this thing happened.  The other two...one
was on my watch team and he just...flashed...or something...and was gone.
That scorched area over there was were he was when he disappeared."

We waited for more, but Chief Frichett had obviously given us all that he
had.  Behind the Chief, we could see two blankets laid out on the deck,
covering what obviously were dead bodies.  Some of CAPT Harris' team
members were tending to stunned sailors who were either sitting or lying on
the deck, shocked or vacant expressions on their faces.  CAPT Harris broke
the silence with his own report.  "We staged the bodies on deck for
transfer as soon as possible.  We can't do anything about the bodies fused
into the bulkheads for now, so we're concentrating on the living.  I would
guess that about half the crew on board suffers from spatial
disorientation, some of which are severe enough to require hospitalization.
We've called for ambulances and will be transferring them to the Naval
Regional Medical Center as soon as they arrive."

He appraised us both with a probing look before asking, "Have either of you
felt any dizziness or other disorientation?"  CAPT Harris noticed our
hesitation before we both shook our heads, so he pressed, "Are you
sure...any headaches, nausea or memory lapses?"

This time, Trish and I answered in the negative without hesitation.

"OK, then," the Captain concluded.  "You two and your OOD here are the only
effective leadership aboard.  Two other officers and three Chiefs that we
found are suffering from disorientation and will have to go to the
hospital."

As we talked, a mobile crane made its way down the pier, a gangplank
swaying under its hook.  A detail of sailors guided the gangplank along and
helped secure it to our ship once the crane had positioned it.  The new
brow was no sooner secured when the first of the ambulances came screaming
up the pier.

For the next hour or so, Trish and I oversaw the transfer of our dead and
afflicted into the ambulances for transfer to the NRMC.  I worked
mechanically, able for the first time to concentrate on something other
than my new body.  Unfortunately, I got a little too complacent and took a
ladder down too fast, misjudging the increased (for my new size) spacing
between the steps in the process.  My foot didn't find a step when I
expected to, and I fell about six feet.  Luckily, I was able to grab the
handrail and keep from toppling forward, but I landed hard on the deck
below and twisted my ankle.  CAPT Harris helped me up and I had to assure
him that my blunder was due to haste, not disorientation.  He gave me that
skeptical look again before letting it go.

At one point, I asked CAPT Harris about submitting an OPREP-3, a required
voice and message report that Navy ships submit immediately after an
incident, especially if casualties are involved.  He told me that he had
called in the initial report on his cellular phone and that his
still-unnamed boss would issue the follow-on messages after he arrived.  I
asked him if he had cleared the initial report with Trish beforehand and he
said he hadn't.  I didn't press the issue, because I knew his answer would
be that he was acting in accordance with the classification of the project,
but this usurpation of the acting CO's authority set off alarm bells in my
head.  Come to think of it, I had no proof that an OPREP was actually sent,
just the Captain's word.  I resolved to watch his actions more closely in
the future.  Trish and I had to keep our wits about us - I was especially
thankful that we had decided not to reveal our particular situation to CAPT
Harris at this time.

The sun was setting when an unmarked government sedan pulled up to the brow
and a two-star Admiral stepped out.  CAPT Harris nodded toward the new
arrival and informed Trish that his boss, Rear Admiral Parker, had arrived.
Chief Frichett was about to order the watch to 'bong' the Admiral aboard -
that is, to render honours appropriate to the Admiral's rank - but CAPT
Harris stopped him short.

"You'll find that the Admiral doesn't stand on ceremony," CAPT Harris
explained.  "He prefers to keep a low profile, especially in a situation
like this."

I was tempted to ask how many 'situations like this' the Admiral has been
in, but bit my tongue.  I was fast developing a cynical outlook on this
whole mess.

Trish came forward and, with CAPT Harris at her side, greeted the Admiral
as he stepped off the brow.  "LCDR Bateman, acting CO of the Plunkett,
reporting, sir," she snapped off, a little melodramatically.  She appeared
to be taking cues on how to act like a commander from every war movie she's
ever seen, I thought amusedly.

The Admiral returned her salute and suggested they go to her (my) cabin.
Trish introduced me to the Admiral and asked if I could accompany them, but
to both our chagrin, he refused.  Trish insisted that as the Ops Officer, I
needed to be included in the conversation, but the Admiral stood firm.
With great reluctance, Trish led the Admiral and Captain into the skin of
the ship, leaving me behind.  CAPT Harris turned and gave me that curious
look again, before disappearing into the hatch.

I continued to supervise the transfer of our afflicted ashore.  There were
not enough able hands left aboard to fill the inport duty section, but that
appeared to no longer be necessary.  The power plant had been secured, and
the civilians from CAPT Harris' team were busy throughout the ship doing
whatever it was they were doing.  More and more, the crew of the Plunkett
was becoming superfluous.  It was not long before I found myself pacing the
deck with nothing constructive to do.

A full forty minutes after they left for my cabin, RADM Parker, CAPT Harris
and Trish emerged from the ship's superstructure.  She came over to me and
announced, "We've been relieved, Ja...uh, Ms. O'Neal.  The remaining crew
aboard is to assemble on the mess decks for a short brief and then they
will be escorted to some barracks that have been reserved for us until the
formal debrief tomorrow."  Her expression betrayed a bit of frustration,
but it was clear that now was not the time to discuss it.

Trish ordered the entire crew to assemble on the mess decks over the 1MC
and then headed down that way.  The pitifully small number of those
remaining aboard gathered around the Admiral, who explained what he
postulated happened during the test, giving every detail CAPT Harris had
given us earlier, but for some reason omitting any reference to the
Eldridge and Project Rainbow's history.  To his credit, RADM Parker
answered every question put to him fully and patiently.  One of the
civilians stood up after the Admiral had finished and briefed us on the
classification of the project, admonishing us that any information
concerning what had happened to us was not to be divulged outside of the
room.  When he mentioned that the crew would be spending the night in
barracks on base, a collective groan went up from the crew, the loudest
being those with family in the area.  He assured us that the arrangement
was a temporary one, until a quick background check, formal debrief and
interim Top Secret clearance be completed on each of the surviving members
of the crew.  It was estimated that the crew could go home in a couple of
days, at most.  A question was asked about our shipmates in the hospital,
and the answer was that everything would be dependent on each individual's
condition.

Trish nudged me and whispered that since we already had current Top Secret
clearances, we could go home after we were dismissed.  I hadn't considered
it until that point, but I was immediately relieved that I wasn't going to
be placed in some temporary women's quarters for the night, left on my own
to deal with my new feminine body.

After all the questions were exhausted, the Admiral dismissed us.  The crew
was shepherded off the ship into buses waiting to take them to the
barracks.  As we watched the buses drive off into the twilight, CAPT Harris
asked where we were going to be spending the night.  At first, I thought he
was hinting at something, but it turned out that he just needed our recall
numbers, in case he had to call us during the night.  In order not to point
out the fact that Trish and I basically lived together in my apartment, I
gave him Trish's mostly-unused home number, even though I would not
actually be spending the night there.  The Captain asked if he could drive
us to where we had left our cars before sailing up to Philly and since it
was a good mile or so from where we were now, we agreed.  After collecting
a few personal belongings from our staterooms, we checked out with the
Admiral and then joined CAPT Harris in one of the white vans.  On the way
to the lot where our cars were parked, he remarked that we were to call if
we experienced any strange sensations throughout the night.  Neither Trish
nor I knew quite how to respond to that, so we stayed silent.  Luckily,
CAPT Harris took our silence for fatigue, because he warned us to be
careful not to fall asleep on the drive home.  He dropped us off at the lot
and asked if he needed to stay until we had started our cars.  Trish
assured him that we hadn't been gone that long and thanked him for the
ride.  CAPT Harris reluctantly drove off, leaving us with a new dilemma.

As I stood looking up at my suddenly-oversized 1961 Plymouth Valiant sedan,
I realized that there was no way I was going to be able to see over the
dash at my new height.  Similarly, Trish was going to be cramped in her
Mazda Miata.  The obvious solution would be to switch, but I wasn't
comfortable leaving Trish to drive the Valiant.  The push-button
transmission was a little touchy and if you didn't do it just right, you
could end up being stuck in the wrong gear.  We decided that we would just
take the Miata together and not worry about what people would think when we
showed up in one car tomorrow.  Even so, I hated leaving my beloved Valiant
behind.

At first, Trish tried to wedge herself into the driver's seat of the Miata,
but eventually decided that she was too cramped behind the wheel.  After
moving her seat forward as far as it would go, I drove us to my apartment.
The Captain was right to be concerned for our safety - I almost nodded off
twice during the 20-minute drive to Virginia Beach.

Chapter 6

I pulled Trish's Miata into my parking space at the apartment complex and
together we dragged our meager belongings up to my apartment.  I checked my
answering machine and discovered I already had a message from CAPT Harris,
informing me that CDR Applegate was being flown down from Philly and would
meet us at the debrief.  That was a bit of relief - once our CO took back
the reins of command, Trish and I could concentrate on our particular
problem.  Exhausted, I dropped heavily on the coach, breaking a bra strap
in the process.

"Damn!" I spat, unbuttoning my blouse so that I could inspect the damage.
"The fucking bra strap just broke!  Now what am I going to do?  You don't
have any extra bras with you, do you?"

"I've got a couple of older pairs over at my apartment," Trish answered.
"The rest are on the ship.  I didn't think to bring clothes for you,
sorry."

"Can you run over and bring back whatever you have?" I asked.

"I could, but the bras I have at home are a cup or two sizes smaller -
you'll be 'poofing' out the top of them.  Besides, if you have any safety
pins, I can fix this strap until we can go get the others."

I told her where to find the safety pins and started to take my blouse off.
I looked down at my breasts for the first time since this morning, and was
again amazed at how massive they were.  The weight of my left breast alone
had been sufficient to rupture the heavy-duty stitching that fastened my
bra strap to the cup.  Despite the rupture, my breast still lay inside its
cup, leaving my right strap to carry the load of both.  I removed the bra
and despite the support the contraption gave me during the day, it felt
good to have my breasts swing free.  I had red marks across my breasts
where creases in the fabric of the bra had imprinted themselves, and it was
a relief to be able to scratch them with my fingernails.  As I was
scratching my breasts, my fingers brushed up against my nipples, causing
them to spring erect.  I pinched one between my fingers and felt a tingling
sensation in my crotch.  Amazing...the more I rolled and pinched my nipple,
the more the sensation built down there.  Almost like a remote control.
The feeling was good...and getting better.  I couldn't stop myself, because
with each pinch I was rewarded with more tingling.  I scooped a hand under
my right tit and hefted it upwards towards my mouth, guiding the engorged
nipple towards my waiting tongue.  I flicked at the nipple with my tongue,
reveling in the shocks it sent to my crotch, then took it into my mouth.  I
was lost to myself as I sucked on my own tit, the sensation building and
building until I completely lost control.  Wave after wave of orgasmic
pleasure washed over me, every nerve ending in my body exploding from the
surge of electricity that passed through me.  As the pleasure subsided, and
normal feeling returned, I opened my eyes to see Trish leaning against the
wall, watching me with amusement.

"You were really cooking there," she laughed.  "Like what you feel?"

I noticed the bulge in her pants and remarked, "Looks like you liked it
yourself.  Why don't you give it a try?"

"Why don't you help me?" she retorted.  "I'm not sure what to do with it if
I can't suck on it or have it inside me."  She blushed suddenly.  "Maybe
you could help me."

I was feeling frisky after my orgasm, so I decided it would be fun.  I
stood up to take her to the bedroom and felt a wetness in my pants.
"Uh-oh," I said, "I may have wet myself there."

"Don't worry," Trish replied.  "You're just excited, that's all.  You'll be
all lubed up when...."  She stopped, looking at me with a sparkle in her
eye.

"When you fuck me, is that it?" I protested.  "Look, Trish, we have to take
this slow.  I don't how I'm going to feel about having a cock inside me.
I'll help you explore yourself, but let not talk about fucking just yet...I
mean, we might be able to switch bodies back tomorrow for all we know."

"Well, if that were the case, wouldn't you want to see what it's like to
have sex as a woman just once?  I know I'd like to see what it's like to
have an orgasm as a man," she said as she stroked the bulge in her pants.

At that point, I didn't know what I wanted.  The tingling sensation in my
crotch (I still couldn't think of it as a vagina, cunt or pussy) was making
me restless, and the thought of something rubbing along the agitated nerve
endings inside me didn't seem quite so bad.  However, I seemed to accept
the idea of having breasts and a vagina more easily than I did playing with
another person's penis.  But it was an unusual situation because the cock
in question was mine - it just wasn't physically attached to me at the
moment.  I found myself wanting to take my old buddy (which was now hers)
out of its confinement and hold it for a moment.

"Let's just not rush anything, is all I'm saying," I remarked, as I took
her hand and led her to the bedroom.  It was strange, leading Trish to my
bedroom like I have done countless times in the past - only this time, an
enormous set of boobs swung from my chest and she was the one with the
raging boner.

We undressed each other slowly.  I could feel the tingling build up inside
me again as Trish fondled my nipples while I unfastened her pants.  God, I
loved to have my breasts fondled, whether it was me doing the squeezing or
someone else.  I instructed her to lie on the bed, which she did, holding
her erect cock as if it were made from fine porcelain.  I kneeled over her
penis and took it from her.  It felt so warm and solid - I have handled it
for so many years, but never realized in all that time how heavy and large
it felt.  Part of that was due to my decreased overall size, but mostly
because I was looking at it from the business end.  I marveled over its
mass and found myself wanting to see what it felt like in my mouth.

I'm not saying that I felt driven to suck her cock, just that I was full of
curiosity and a whole new set of desires.  I licked the head first, and
tasted a drop of salty cum on the tip.  So, she was excited, too.  I licked
her cock as though it were an ice cream cone, running the tip of my tongue
around the periphery of the head and then down the sides.  All at once, I
lowered my head over her shaft, taking the head as far back into my mouth
as I could.  I marveled again at the width of the shaft, but gagged when
the tip banged against the back of my throat.  I pulled back from her and
noticed for the first time how much she was writhing on the bed.

"Sorry," I said.  "I'm not used to sucking cock, you know."

She moaned, saying, "No, it feels good.  Keep doing that."

"Aye aye, sir," I smiled at her arousal.

I took her cock in my hand and began pumping up and down.  She moaned
harder, so I bent down to suck her cock while I stroked it.  I got into a
rhythm, running my hand and mouth up and down the entire length of her
shaft.  With each stroke, I could take her cock farther and farther into my
mouth.  Her cock grew longer and harder than I have ever seen before.  I
kept pumping away, feeling my breasts alternatively slap against each other
and squishing against Trish's legs.  She reached underneath me with her
long arms and began to knead my titflesh, causing me to speed up my
motions.

We were building to frenzy when Trish suddenly tensed and thrust her hips
up, jamming her cock deep into my throat before cumming in an explosive
orgasm.  Most of her cum shot down my throat before I could react, but I
gagged nonetheless.  I pulled back, coughing and spitting, the realization
hitting that I had just sucked my first cock.  Why was it again that I
wanted to do this?

Trish lay there, moaning in ecstasy.  After a moment, she said groggily,
"That was fantastic!  It's like all the feelings in the world concentrated
in my penis and then exploded out when I came!  No wonder you guys love it
so much!"

"Yea, it feels differently as a woman," I answered, "it's not as
concentrated, but makes you feel better all over."

Trish raised herself up with some effort.  "You think it's fun giving
yourself an orgasm just by playing with your nipples, wait until I go down
on you.  You'll love it!"

She instructed me to lie on my back while she lowered her face between my
legs and started to lap at my pussy.  Her tongue sought out and found a
knob of flesh down there that sent shivers up my spine to explode in my
head.  My hips started to gyrate, seemingly all on their own.  I scooped my
boobs up in my arms and pinched my nipples in time with my thrusts.  Ohh,
it felt so good to have her flick her tongue around in my cunt, and when
she started to suck on that knob, I lost it.  I screamed out in ecstasy -
pleasure was slamming me, wave after wave.  I lost all rational thought
until the rush subsided long enough for me to realize that Trish had
stopped licking me and was laying beside me.  As the world came back into
focus, I realized that I had just had the most fantastic orgasm of my life.

The explosions subsided, but I still felt that tingling sensation buzzing
along down there.  My crotch was still uncomfortably warm and wet.  My itch
still needed to be scratched and I knew what would do the trick.  I looked
at Trish and told her that I needed to feel her inside me.  She asked if I
was sure, and I didn't hesitate in nodding my head.  The sparkle in her eye
and the length of her still-hard erection was evidence enough that she was
ready to go again.

She rolled me over and climbed on top.  She looked so huge, leaning over
me, and I began to panic as she started to push the tip of her cock against
the folds in my pussy.  "Wait a minute...I'm scared." I whined, sounding
for all the world like a frightened little girl.

Trish pulled back, a little frustrated.  "What do you want to do?" she
snapped.

"I'm sorry, but I felt like you were going to crush me, or something," I
said.  "Maybe I should get on top, like we normally do."

"Okay," she responded, flipping over onto her back.  "This'll probably work
better, anyway."

I straddled her thighs and looked down at her erect cock.  It just looked
so damn big - I couldn't envision it inside my body.  Intellectually, I
knew it had to fit...Trish and I have done it before.  But, to look at it,
it was just too big.

But I wanted to do this.  I wanted her inside me.  I can't explain the
feeling, it was just there.  So I lifted myself up and used my hand to
guide her cock into my opening.  I pressed down on it and felt her mass
slowly spread me apart.

I was not prepared for the alien sensation of having something enter my
body (oh god it IS too big I can't do this but I want it).  It wasn't quite
as painful as when the doctor does a rectal exam, but it hurt, nonetheless.
Her cock kept spreading me apart until I thought I would rip apart.  I was
about to pull off her when she grabbed me by my shoulders and forced me all
the way down on her.  The tip of her cock bumped against what must have
been the end of my cavity in there and I screamed out in pain.  My hips
started to move automatically again, and the more I moved, the better her
cock felt inside me.  It filled me completely, but the movement of her
shaft rubbing inside me felt sooooo good.  As I began to pump harder, Trish
grabbed my bouncing breasts and began to play with them.  That increased my
pleasure, as my boobs weren't flopping painfully around and the jolts I
received from having my nipples tweaked added to the growing feelings
building around her cock.  All pain was gone now and only pleasure
remained, as I pumped harder and harder on her shaft.

When the orgasm hit, my body spasmed violently backwards, stopped only by
Trish's inclined knees.  Good thing, too, because I might have broken her
new cock right off.  I lay there for a second, hands back behind my head,
breasts lolling to each side.  She pulled me forward again and continued to
thrust inside me.  She was building to her own orgasm and wasn't able to
stop.  Remarkably enough, I soon found myself caught in another escalation
of feeling, and matched her rhythm.  Just before she came, I felt her cock
grow even larger and my nerve endings shifted into high gear.  We actually
came at the same time, her hot juices exploding inside me just as I lost
control in a series of heaves.  I found myself laying on top of Trish's
flat chest, my breasts squashed against her torso.  Her cock was still
inside of me, but it was softer now and I discovered that I could squeeze
it with my vaginal muscles.  I was wide awake, aware of every atom of my
new body.  Trish, on the other hand, looked like she was drugged.  She was
still awake, but fading fast.  She rolled her head to look at me and smile,
but then let it fall back against the pillow.  I slowly pulled off of her,
wincing as her slippery cock slid out of me, pulling with it what seemed
like gallons of fluid out of my body.  I lay on my back beside Trish,
cradling my breasts, trying to maneuver away from the puddle of wetness in
the bed, and began to wonder what life would be like if we had to stay this
way forever.  Did I want to stay a woman, or go back to being a man?  Each
sex had its pros and cons and there was something to like, and dislike,
about each.  Of course, just because I had walked around with breasts for a
day and enjoyed a female orgasm didn't mean I was an expert on being a
woman.  There was so much I didn't know, and there was no telling how much
time I would have to find out.  Could be one day, could be forever.  I was
used to being in control of situations, but this was beyond me.  There was
so much to be anxious about in the days ahead.  My last thought, however,
before I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep was that regardless of what
happened next, I just had the experience of my life.

...to be continued?

End of Part I