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All in all, it could be said that you had an average childhood, just like everyone else.

You never knew your parents; your father was anonymous, as you would expect, and your mother had far more societally important things to do than take care of a baby. At least, you hoped so - in all likelihood, your mother had been a proprietor, but they weren't the only females in society capable of being randomly impregnated or giving birth. That was part of why, even though only your mother's lineage could really be tracked in that way, the children were never told who their mothers were. Having a mother who was a proprietor would have been as uninteresting as it was typical, but the idea of a child knowing that they were spawned from a Red One, with everything that might portend about their own future, would have been too much of a burden for any child to reasonably bear. And so, growing up, your parents were simply a mystery - again, just like everyone else.

Your first memories of any parental-type figures are of the male nurses that took care of you, and the rest of the children in the assembly-line-efficient nursery, until it was time to head off to the boarding school that accompanied the first years of primary education. For all intents and purposes, the male nurses were your communal parents, at least until their roles were taken over by the teachers and boarders when your education properly began. You got to know them as much as anyone else, which was to say not much at all; it was rare to be cared for by the same one two days in a row, so there wasn't much sense of attachment. You weren't supposed to get attached to them, anyway - they were merely there to get you to the next stage of your development, your time together mutually forgotten as they moved onto the next batch of infants.

There was no need, though, to think of yourself as an orphan, or lonely, any more so than the other children in the rows of bassinets that had surrounded you in your earliest memories. Only children born to true females, at the uppermost echelons of society, actually grew up with their parents. All the other children, though, at least the overwhelming majority who were born male, shared the specifics of your circumstance. Having no memories of your parents, there was nothing about them for you to miss, and so you developed in as normal a way as was possible under the circumstances, with the peers you shared classrooms and bedrooms with the closest thing you had to a traditional notion of family. That wasn't to say that you got along with all of them, all the time, but of those you got along with, your friendship with them was equally average, close enough but borne forward more by shared circumstances that slowly transformed into more personal affinities.

At the end of your secondary education, just about everything about you was still about average: average height, average build, average grades, average circle of friends, athletic enough to play all right in informal sports games but not enough to join a serious league. As a result, when preparing to finish that education with a passing but unremarkable composite score, the choices facing you seemed obvious enough: either attendance at a trade school or an apprenticeship, and an existence somewhere between the lower and middle rungs of society.

Being in that closed-campus boarding school when the troubles with the Red Ones were brought to light, and also during the eventual uprising, most of what transpired seemed to take place in the ethereal world broadcast in the sort of news reports that seemed wholly disconnected from the protected bubble you and your fellow students resided in. In any case, the things that were happening only seemed to matter to those that were of age - something which for you, according to your medical evaluation, wasn't due to happen until a couple of months after the culmination of your education there.

Nevertheless, though, the settlement and reconciliation had come into full force a few months before that was to occur, and with it the full terms of the compromise: either enough people volunteered to become proprietors to start filling the vacuum left by pardoning the Red Ones, or a lottery would be held to make up the difference.

When that first recruitment round had come up, though, you were just old enough to be eligible for it, although the significance of it didn't really sink in for you at the time. While at that point you were hardly naive about what was involved, none of it had much of an effect on you, as there was no reason for it to apply in such a sequestered space until it made itself known. For your species, coming of age wasn't really a gradual process: either the attraction and drive was there, or it wasn't, so at that point you had still to understand the allure that proprietors, or even Red Ones, provided.

It was during the run-up to the culmination exams, though, that the news from the first round had come down: the threshold hadn't been met, and so the lottery would be held. Along with your personal and student numbers, a third soon appeared on your electronic ID card: your own personal lottery ticket, waiting to see if it would be called. As a female's actual age of physical maturity was earlier than a male's, you were old enough to be included; and while you were still a little ways away from that awakening as a male, if your number was chosen it would be a different story. Being transformed into a proprietor would mean effectively coming of age, in a radically different way, as soon as the transformation was complete.

It wasn't something you particularly wanted to think about, for obvious reasons - you were happy enough with your body that you weren't eager to have it become something so drastically different, and you were familiar enough with the acts that proprietors had to take on, or at least the rumors of what it entailed as explained by your faster-maturing classmates, that you weren't eager to anticipate the experience. Nevertheless, the number was still there, waiting, and every time you had occasion to glance at your ID a slight shiver ran down your spine. Was that really something that would happen to you? To someone you knew? All you could really do, though, was wait, and hope that whatever numbers came up didn't happen to include yours.

Shortly after the final exam results were posted, the lottery was officially held, and for a day the entire school seemed to hold its breath. As for you, you spent most of the day hanging out nervously in one of the common rooms of the residence hall with several of your friends, watching on TV as the countdown ticked away... and then, after it was complete, the functionary who walked out onto the broadcast stage with a sheet of paper and read out the lottery numbers in a monotone that was more chilling than reassuring. It went on and on, for many minutes, your fur standing on end any time one of the sequences of digits sounded at all close to your own - and judging by the nervous rumblings from your friends, they seemed to be feeling the same, if not worse.

Your number, mercifully, was not among those read, but one of your friends sitting next to you on the couch, Elizar, gasped as he recognized one of the numbers that scrolled by. A moment later, a buzzing sounded from his pocket, and he retrieved his ID, only to see it flashing red with the news. Even as it did, a brief klaxon sounded in the hall, and the electronic locks on the door shut with an audible metallic thunk.

Elizar bolted upright, panic flooding across his face, and tried to push through the door. Despite his desperate attempts, though, the room remained resolutely locked for the next hour, opening only to reveal two burly men in public-order uniforms who strode directly towards him. He flailed desperately at them, any reason left in him lost to his state of panic, but each one of them wrestled one of his arms into their grasp. He begged them to release him, to inflict his fate on someone else, but they were deaf to his pleas - the lottery had spoken, and as no one had been recruited earlier in his stead, his fate was irrevocable.

As soon as they had him securely, they dragged him away, his heels kicking and scuffing along the carpet - and then he was gone, leaving the rest of you to look amongst yourselves with a mixture of relief, guilt, and horror. Sheltered or not, you knew more than enough about the fate he'd been taken away to meet: better than the Red Ones, to be sure, but still what could only be described as a life served underneath men and subjected to their needs.

Seeing your friend dragged away like that, it was certainly hard at first to see the notion of being a proprietor as anything more than a different sort of punishment, and an unfair one at that - at least the Red Ones had committed crimes to be punished for, but the only thing your friend had done was to fall afoul of a random-number generator. Intellectually, you knew that it made sense in a perverse sort of way - without the Red Ones, there simply weren't enough women to go around to serve the male needs that you would eventually experience, and if those needs weren't met, the only other outcome would be chaos. There had to be enough proprietors, and if people wouldn't choose the profession, a lottery to fill the gap was as fair as anything else: more fair, in fact, since even those in the societal elites had been forced to participate as part of the agreement.

Even so, you had to admit that the situation only felt fair in the abstract, and not so much when you'd watched your own friend taken away to be transformed against his will. Feeling his absence, idly wondering what he was going through and how much he was suffering, made the situation seem much more onerous - especially since the lottery was only the first round, and your number could very well be chosen next if it happened again.

Unlike the Red Ones, though, who had been stripped of most vestiges of citizenship and dignity, your friend, at least, was still afforded every normal aspect of citizenship aside from the mandatory change in form: not stripped away and dumped somewhere to be abused, but simply taken to the local modification facility to undergo the transition.

During the week or so while he was in the vat for the actual transformation, there was nothing to do but wait and worry, but as soon as he - she - had finished the process and gone through recovery and a basic orientation, her freedom and possessions were returned. The first thing she did was to call you, and soon your entire group of friends was clustered around a table, the phone in the middle on speaker mode, anxiously waiting to hear how she was doing.

Surprisingly enough, considering what she'd just been through, she actually seemed in relatively good spirits - whatever had been done to her, however different it was, it hadn't seemed to instill any lasting harm, just... differences. They seemed to be the last thing she wanted to talk about, although when she had mentioned offhand that they should brainstorm a new name for her female form, it had quickly moved from a seeming joke to a serious discussion. All of a sudden, it seemed strange to use the name Elizar to refer to the clearly feminine voice on the other end of the line, and when someone mentioned the name Linyi and she seemed to instantly take to it, somehow it felt far more appropriate.

That change, though, brought the realization home: you were no longer talking just to the friend you once knew, but to a woman: someone you knew you were already thinking of, whether due to instincts or not, in a different light. Certainly, you knew that her life was bound to be much different than what would otherwise have been expected; while at the moment it was just about recuperating fully from the transformation and getting used to the differences in her new form, her interactions with others from that point on, especially those with men, would never be the same.

When you were able to set up a video chat a week later, actually seeing your friend changed in that way was unquestionably surreal - seeing the same inflection, same mannerisms, same expressions and attitudes, on a face and body with just enough similar features as to still be basically recognizable, while at the same time strangely and blatantly feminine. Still, it was encouraging to see that the essence of your friend, at least, was still present within the changed body.

Whatever the reaction when Elizar had been hauled away, when she told you about what happened next, it was clear that things hadn't been as traumatic as that scene had signaled. They hadn't simply hauled him into the facility, forced the choice on him, knocked him out, and dunked him in a vat to be transformed. True enough, he hadn't been allowed to leave, but it hadn't been a prison so much as a dormitory containing several of the others who had "won" the lottery, along with a veritable phalanx of doctors, counselors and social workers. That a transformation would happen was not in question, but there had been any number of people with which to discuss his concerns and fears, to guide him towards the decision of becoming a proprietor over a eunuch, and to walk him through every step of the process - even allowing a certain amount of customization of his new form, including how some of the feminine aspects would work. It still wasn't really what Elizar had wanted, exactly, but by the time they were walked over to the transformation facility, he had at least made a sort of peace with what was going to happen to him - and when she'd woken up once the transformation was complete, it had been that much easier to accept.

Any time you tried to ask about some of the specific differences, though, or about what she would be doing once she left rehabilitation and actually went to work, she quickly shifted the conversation to other things - while she seemed to have accepted her new form, it was clear that for the moment she preferred denial over actually coming to terms with the future of men, and sex, that awaited her. True, those were all things you were certainly curious about as well, but at the same time, the notion of encountering her someday, in that particular context, sent shivers down your spine. To see a close friend, in a position such as that... perhaps denial wasn't the worst idea ever.

There was one thing, though, that it was hard to be in denial about: the fact that there would likely be another lottery, in which you would possibly risk a similar fate - and all the denial in the world wouldn't be enough to avoid it. Every non-transformed guy was probably thinking about it, for that matter, for all the good it would do them to worry. There were really only two options you could choose, right? Volunteer, and make it slightly easier on everyone else, or wait until the next lottery and hope you weren't in the next batch that was chosen. At least, judging from Linyi's reaction, even if it happened it wasn't the end of the world, just... really, really different, and still something you doubted you'd look forward to if you were chosen.

The thing was, everyone was thinking along the same lines - including those in the elites of society, the ones with the money and the power. For them, it turned out, there was a third option: bribe enough people into becoming proprietors that the quota was more than met, and save themselves - and everyone else, for that matter - from having the choice forced upon them in another lottery. And so, when a few days had passed and you and your peers were shipped off to a mandatory employment "fair" to help determine the fields you would be working in, the atmosphere was considerably different than what you had imagined.

You had no idea what the "fairs" had looked like for those who'd come in at the top of the scholastic rankings - surely some sort of universities, or at least internships at the various high-flying conglomerates that did much of the business in the metropolis. Being squarely in the middle, though, the expected choices were probably much more subdued: various trade schools and apprenticeships in fields like plumbing and the maintenance of heavy machinery, reasonable work but not the kind most aspired to.

In addition, at the one "preview" fair you'd been required to attended, there was a table from the government that had rounded out the half-full convention hall, with a couple of dispirited representatives trying, mostly in vain, to sell people on the life of a proprietor. As the alternatives in the room were just okay, it had probably seen a little more traffic than most, but it still hadn't been a thing most guys wanted to consider. Back then, you hadn't really given it a second glance, in part because it hadn't really seemed relevant - you were still a ways from coming of age, so such things were important only in a certain sort of abstract way, and there had been far more practical things to be focusing on, like scraping out a decent score on the upcoming exams. Still, if there had only been that same lonely booth for proprietors, you'd have hardly been surprised.

The lottery, and what had befallen those in Linyi's circumstances, meant that thoughts about proprietors were now much more present in your mind; and even if they hadn't been, the post-lottery fair made the prospect virtually impossible to ignore. This time, the convention hall had every space fully booked, and it wasn't by more manufacturers or tradesmen; if anything, there were perhaps a handful less of them. No, the fair was now devoted to a decidedly different prospect: filling up every other space with table after table of huge, glitzy displays focused entirely on recruiting new proprietors.

As you looked them over, though, not a single one of them seemed to be from the government; in fact, most of them bore the name or crest of the scions who headed the large conglomerates, or would at least inherit them. Walking down one of the aisles, between rows of competing proprietor booths, it was clear that to avoid a lottery, and the unpalatable choice of losing their manhood in one way or another, they would do just about anything to convince people to sign up - in fact, the various scions almost seemed to be competing for recruitment, perhaps so they could boast among their peers that they'd done the most to protect them from having to risk proprietorship.

Considering how impossible the booths were to avoid, you couldn't help but look them over - and be immediately stunned at what some of them were proposing. It was quite a difference from the apprenticeships you'd seen before, the sort that had offered enough to eke out a tolerable if spartan existence. You'd known that proprietors, for what they had to endure, made a comfortable amount more; now, with competition from those especially keen to avoid that fate, the difference in pay was only the beginning of the enticements on offer.

The disjunct was strange, to say the least - you would wander past a dispirited trade-school booth, which at most might be handing out a small trinket or a staid grey brochure, and then perusing the proprietor booth next to it, with giant piles of branded goodies interspersed between not just brochures, but full-color glossy magazines detailing the supposed allure and glamour of the proprietor life. Just spending a moment listening to a pitch could net you a whole stack of things, from travel vouchers to concert tickets, and one table was even handing out inexpensive tablet computers designed to open to a home screen full of proprietor recruitment videos.

Even more impressive than the beyond-generous freebies, though, were the promises the competing booths were making to whoever signed up with them. Some of the perks seemed standard across the board - for instance, while normally the government-provided gender change was fairly straightforward, focusing more on functional adjustments and providing little more cosmetically besides the addition of the blue proprietor fur stripes, the recruiters instead offered luxury transformations at private lab facilities. You would still have to be female, then, but not just a female variant of your original form - they would more than happily transform you into whatever sort of feminine figure you desired, with custom body type, tail type, and just about anything you could think of, not jut fur color but pattern, length, even texture. The internal parts on offer were apparently just as advanced and customizable, and while you didn't even understand half of the parameters, apparently you could customize what you felt and experienced in the acts performed by proprietors to an incredibly precise degree.

The other perk most offered was the obvious additional bonuses on top of the mandated proprietor pay rates, but beyond that, the sky seemed the limit, with each booth offering its own lofty incentives for signing up: cars, boats, guaranteed exotic vacations every year, the use of apartments in some of the city's loftiest skyscrapers. While all of them provided at least immediate placement at a reputable place to do business, some of the scions had gone a step further, creating new places for proprietors to conduct their business in the utmost comfort.

At first glance, the whole thing seemed like a dream - the crazy promise of a far richer and more promising future than someone of your skills would ordinarily have garnered, shiny and bright and right there for the taking. And yet, despite all the impressive displays, there was next to no mention of what being a proprietor would actually entail. Not that it was a mystery, as everyone knew what it meant, but it was the one point that for most people would probably kill the entire deal. Which was hardly surprising - even while walking through, staring in awe at the insane generosity of some of the offers, there was still an occasional compulsion to reach down and adjust yourself, not so much out of need but as an unconscious gesture of reassurance about your male status.

True, at that point you didn't know a lot about being a proprietor, or being a female, but you knew enough about what it basically meant. You also knew, from long experience, that your manhood had many, many subtle rows of spines running along a good portion of its length, and as the notion of being a proprietor involved a whole lot of those spines scraping along something soft and fleshy inside of you, it was an image that served as a sobering counterpoint to the offers flashing and shouting all around you.

Still, with so many offers, it was hard not to let at least a little contemplation sneak into your mind - especially compared to the dull and modestly rewarding futures laid out by everyone else. Now that school was over, you knew that in a few months you'd have little choice but to choose one of the options, lest in the absence of choosing one was chosen for you - and the rumor was that the default choice handed out by the government had been changed to becoming a proprietor anyway, without any of the private perks.

Even so... it was hard to know whether a boring internship would be better or worse than being on the receiving end of the whims of many, many men. Though you had yet to experience those drives or desires, you had learned enough in school to generally know what the lusts of men entailed, and you'd seen enough examples on television, of how men had applied that lust to the Red Ones before the conflict, to be more than wary of it.

You knew which choice made sense, despite having no enthusiasm for it whatsoever, and the tempting offers continued to nag at you, making you doubt, making you wonder... which is why, right now, you find yourself on another video call with Linyi, still trying to get used to her feminized face as you work up the courage to ask about the involuntary profession that she's now had a chance to experience.

Even with her changed features, though, it's easy enough to recognize Elizar's characteristic smile on Linyi's face, reassuring in response to your obvious nervousness.

"C'mon... we've been friends since what, the second week after we first went to school? I know, I know, it's kinda weird seeing me like this - hey, I still get weirded out sometimes when I look in a mirror, but just because my body's a little different now doesn't mean I'm all... mysterious or something. I'm still the same... well, not guy, but you know what I mean. I'm still the same person, the same friend I was before. And as your friend, you know I'm not going to let you get off this call until you spit out what's on your mind..."

It's still hard not to be nervous, but despite what is visible on the screen, you know that she is right - she has to be right. Her demeanor, her attitude, are basically the same, even if they are now framed by a half-recognizable face and voice. At the very least, whatever the effects of being a proprietor have been during the short time since she's started, she truly seems none the worse for wear. To see her still so upbeat, so stable... obviously things have been going far better than what you had imagined.

Elizar, or rather Linyi, has never been all that good at covering up emotions, and if she is suffering, you're sure you'd see it on her face and in her attitude. Seeing that she is reasonably okay allays your worry over what you might hear from her, at least enough to actually talk about what's on your mind: the displays at the job fair, the lofty rewards, your struggle to figure out if they were even worth considering.

"Ah, so that's what's going on... I have to say, I haven't really kept up on the news of what happened after the lottery, but it does explain a little what happened to me a few days ago..."

She continues, acknowledging the puzzled expression on your face. "There was a... rich guy, I guess he had to be, since he managed to stay with me for at least a couple of hours. Before he left, though, he pressed a key into my hand, with a keyring indicating the number of an apartment downtown. I thought it was his, that he wanted a private session or something - apparently, those pay especially well. But when I went there after I was done working normally, the apartment was empty, aside from a note saying that it was mine now, for as long as I wanted it. That it was because I was a proprietor, and he hadn't had to become one, so he just wanted to... thank one of the people who might have taken his place. Seemed kinda weird, but maybe it makes sense now - I guess the lottery shook a lot of people into action. I can't complain, though - it's better than hanging out in the room at the establishment. I'm actually talking to you from the apartment right now, and the view from the city is... well, you should come by sometime and see it for yourself, maybe once I've really settled into... all of this..."

"What you're asking, though, how it is... I dunno if it's even possible to explain it entirely, without you having the parts that I have now, as there's really nothing else like it as a guy. I can tell you a couple of things, though. It's not like the Red Ones, I'm absolutely sure of that - the stuff I saw on TV, and how it actually is with guys like this, they're worlds apart. In fact... and here's the thing that I really don't get, that they don't seem to tell anyone about becoming a proprietor. Yeah, it's weird starting off, and figuring out the first couple of times can be tricky... but the crazy thing about it is, when it comes down to actually doing the job, just about every part of it feels... pretty damn good, actually, in ways I'm really not sure I could have even comprehended back when I was a guy."

Unsurprisingly, your response is a little incredulous - with exhibit one being the spines, which couldn't possibly have felt all that pleasant.

"Heh... you'd think that, wouldn't you? I mean... yeah, it hurts, but not at all in the way I thought it would. To explain that, though, you really have to start with heat, one of those other things that guys know about, but can't really get if they've never felt it happen. On the surface, yeah, it's kind of a scary proposition - that's the same stuff that made the Red Ones all mad with lust, but for proprietors, there's this device that lets you control precisely how much of the hormones are flowing through you at any given time. True, it feels pretty insane the first time you turn it on, and it takes a while to get the dosage right - too little and the job becomes not quite comfortable, too much and you really do feel beyond frustrated anytime you're not, well, doing it. But once you get it in that perfect range, well... I know I keep saying this, but there's nothing quite like it. Seriously, it's better than any drug I've ever had, and you know I've tried... more than a few. It feels like there's pure energy coursing through your veins, like every inch of you just feels... intense, somehow. You just feel full of life, and love, and when you're in that state, when it's time to get down to business, there's no apprehension at all, you just want to go with it, to make it happen - and when it does, it's so very, very easy. There's no fear, or really even apprehension. You just let your body do what it wants and the guy do what he wants, and in that state they're usually about one and the same.

"And the pain... well, you don't even feel that at first, not until he pulls out, because of the way the spines are shaped. And I guess you have to feel it a little for some reason, although with proprietors, I guess they tweak things inside, tweak nerves and stuff as well, so when it happens... it's really hard to describe, but it's kind of like, you know how when you exercise sometimes, something might ache or get sore, but in that moment you don't feel it that way. There's pain, but it... hurts so good, you know what I mean? Not in a masochistic way or anything, but even when it hurts, at the same time it feels weirdly right, plucking and strumming at things inside in all the right ways... I know that doesn't really make sense with no reference, no way of knowing what that feels like, but if it's pain you're worrying about, as a proprietor somehow even that part of it is still okay enough, especially in the way that gets you ready for the part that immediately follows...

"The actual feeling of it, of having sex with those female parts... it really is hard to describe to a guy. It really is completely different, this... thing, this area inside you, something you can't even feel normally unless you're in heat or actually going at it. The same way, for example, you know your... intestines are there, but you can't feel them unless they're doing something, right? Crude, I know, but it really is like that. It's kinda weird, feeling like your... junk, you know, isn't there, when it's all just inside now, and way more complex than you could possibly tell from just looking between your legs. Although, to be fair, after the transformation I never feel like my penis is missing or anything like that - as part of the process, they rewire all the nerves and stuff that are related to that, so the new body feels normal, like you've always had it, from the moment you wake up after it's done. But it's one of those things where you don't even really understand how it works, how it feels, until the first time a guy's actually inside you.

Linyi pauses, tilting her head to the side as she takes in your probably overwhelmed-looking expression at everything she's just said. "Um, I hope I'm not grossing you out or anything with all this - it feels pretty weird to describe it, for sure! I know you asked, but... you are looking just a little uncomfortable..."

Linyi continues, though, once she sees you shaking your head. Her description was... different, to be sure, but actually kind of fascinating, although you realize at that point that you aren't just listening because it's interesting, but because it's actually something you're almost seriously considering, given how... contented, at least, Linyi is with it. That you actually want to find out as much as you can what it's like, for if you actually want to truly think about going through with it.

"All right - do tell me if it starts feeling like too much to handle. I know it's strange hearing it come from me, but... I have to tell you, it's actually kinda nice to talk about it with someone I know. It's not really easy to talk about with the other proprietors, there's just something... awkward about having a conversation with someone whose moans you've been hearing all day from the next room over, I guess. And the other guys... I didn't really want to even bring it up with them, considering they're probably scared still about the whole thing, especially since there might be another lottery. When you called up and actually wanted to talk about it, though... I'm thankful for that, I guess.

"Heh, sorry about drifting there for a moment, but... yeah, if you do want to stop, it's only gonna get stranger from here..."

You shake your head again, and Linyi smiles as she continues, that peculiar sort of half-grin that Elizar always had when he was talking about something that was a little bit forbidden. "Anyway... the sex itself. Like I said, there's just this new... part within you, that things go inside, and because it's all internal it's hard to really get much of a sense of it at all: how big it is, what it's made up of. But once a guy goes inside, then you can feel it, what it does, how it reacts, and it's just this... there's no good word for it. It's this feeling that's kinda like being pulled, kinda like stretching or being stretched, this feeling of fullness, this warmth pressing in... all that and several other sensations I don't even know how to begin describing. And then... and then, the sex happens, I guess.

"The actual act, doing it, it's pretty... mechanical? I know you probably only saw what they showed you in class, how it works and stuff, but really it's about like you'd expect, and each time is pretty damn quick - three or four thrusts, and it's done. Getting through it is super easy, actually, because no matter what happens, with the heat flowing through you everything feels good enough that there's no reason to want it to stop. Yeah, there are the spines when he pulls out, but when he pushes back in all of a sudden all that stuff inside you does the opposite of hurt. It just takes all those weird, crazy feelings and drives them into this thing that's in the deepest part, all the way into your belly, and just like that, you... come, basically, and that pain from before, aches, anything, just melt away. I guess in some ways it's like a male orgasm - you probably haven't felt one yet, right? So, it's kind of hard to describe, and like this it's something you feel not just inside where it's happening, but kind of all over: through your torso, your neck, your thighs, making your back arch and fists clench and toes curl. You can even feel it down to the tip of your tail, and if the guy's playing with it at the time, it goes absolutely nuts, but feels even more amazing if the guy manages to corral it and force the twitching back down inside.

"In short, it's just... this incredible feeling, actually, all throughout your body. It's a little disconcerting, maybe, if you haven't felt it before, and I guess it takes more out of you than the male variety, where you can get going again right afterwards - it does leave you kind of dazed for a minute before you can really get back up and do anything else. Heh... funny thing about that is, that's actually one of the things I liked the most about going to proprietors, at least the few times I had a chance before the lottery happened, like your performance was so awesome that it left them literally stunned. Guess that part of it feels a little less special, now that I'm a proprietor, now that I know that's what happens with every guy. It actually feels a little embarrassing once you come down from it, and realize you're just lying there with your legs open, or your ass in the air...

"Don't get me wrong, though - however weird it is to start, with all the technology involved and the way they tune your transformed body... as much as it sounds absolutely bizarre to say, as awkward as it can feel beforehand, once you've actually with the guy, your body actually can't help but enjoy it. I think if there was some way that they could actually convey the experience of it to someone pre-transformation, there'd be a whole lot more guys becoming proprietors."

She leans toward the camera with a strangely wry smile. "I mean, even thinking of it as a... a job is kind of strange. I mean, it's not some nine-to-five thing working in a factory, or behind a desk. Instead, you put on some underwear, walk into this bedroom, lay down on a bed, laze about and purr while the heat takes hold, and then basically spend the entire rest of the day feeling the world's longest and most uneven high, combined with a lot, and I mean a lot, of hands all over you, plus everything that's happening inside... and yet at the end of it, you're not feeling stressed or humiliated or awful, just a little sore, more than a little exhausted, and with a bunch more money in your account. Yeah, when you actually consider it, it's really weird spending all those years studying, and then ending up with a job where most of the day the thinking part of your brain is all but turned off, but it's not every day you basically get to take a drug trip and get paid for it.

"I mean, what can I say? It was really weird at first, the transition itself and getting used to it was somewhere between strange and scary, and while I was recovering, all those feelings were compounded by the knowledge of the strange stuff between my legs and what it was going to be subjected to. And I won't lie, that first day actually working in an establishment, I was absolutely terrified, and when that first guy walked in, stripped off his shorts and pounced on me... that's a moment I'd be more than happy to forget. But once I experienced what it felt like... I took to it pretty quickly, so I guess it works for me.

"Would I recommend it to you, though? Man... I dunno. It's a trip, for sure, and not just in the drugged-out way. You end up having to look at the world in a totally different way, and sex especially - there's just no way to keep a male viewpoint on it, because your role in it is so different. That's probably the trickiest part, actually, taking on that female role and giving up the control that a guy has over the whole thing - I know it's hard to really get that without having experienced the male side of it first, but there's this dynamic that's totally different. You're not... doing the act anymore, so much as having it done to you, and while it's not bad once you get used to it, it's a strange thing for sure - having someone else control the rhythm and cadence of it all, reacting to their motions instead of being the one enacting them, having a climax not as something that you build up with your own rhythm, but as something literally thrust upon you, ready or not, at someone else's pace. Sometimes it can feel, with heat especially, like you don't even really have control over your own body. But once you learn to let go, to stop fighting the heat and let yourself get into it, then it all clicks, and for me, at least, it's actually pretty good, and so very, very easy. In fact, if you just want to do the bare minimum, you don't even have to lift a finger - just lie down on the bed, set the heat regulator, and the guys do the rest...

"So... If you can get past that, get past losing your cock and having to pee sitting down, get past the idea that guys are going to be on top of you all day, you can make easy money and feel good doing it. But if you'd told me that before the lottery, I'd have laughed in your face and told you you'd have to drag me away screaming for that to happen. Heh... actually, as I recall, that's exactly what they did, and maybe if they'd been dragging me off to be a Red One or something, my terror might have been justified. But... while it is insanely different, I can't really consider it bad, but again, that's just how I feel, not necessarily how everyone would. So if you look into it, really consider it, and decide that it's what you want to devote every part of you to, then yeah, I'd say go for it. But if not, trust me, I'd more than understand. Sometimes I still feel like I want to be a man, want to be with a woman like that again, and knowing that I won't ever be able to, it can get me down a little... but when I go into work the next day, and get back into what it feels like in this form, I realize I don't miss it nearly as much as I thought..."

It's a lot to take in at once, and even though after her description Linyi eventually manages to shift the conversation back to more mundane things, your responses are distracted at best as you try to sort through the experiences that she had described. By the time your roommates come home later in the evening, even though the conversation had concluded hours ago, you realize that you still haven't moved from your position in front of the computer, lost in thought and wondering just how seriously you actually want to consider it.

It certainly wasn't the sort of conversation you'd expected. True, you weren't expecting to hear a story of terror on par with what had been inflicted on the Red Ones, as if that had been the case no one would have volunteered to be a proprietor at all. Even so, you'd expected to hear that being one was... uncomfortable, unpleasant, trying in some way or other.

Instead, thinking back on it, the conversation was... strange, in more ways than one. Elizar had always been pleasant enough in your company, but he'd also always had something of an undeniable edge, that particular sort of male penchant for trouble, that unearned confidence that had occasionally put him at odds with authority of any stripe. Out of all of your friends, you'd have picked him for the one most likely to end up a Red One, at least before, and the one most likely to resist beyond all reason the denial of his manhood. With that in mind, you'd have thought he'd react to his new station in life with bare, grudging tolerance at best. For him not only to accept it so readily, but be willing to all but endorse the experience to a close friend... it's hard not to wonder if, despite your own trepidations, being a proprietor really is the most rewarding option on the table.

It's hard to stop thinking about it for sure, and even when your roommates return shortly after the conversation concludes, you can't help but wonder if it's on their minds as well. In fact, when you get to talking with them, somehow you're still intrigued enough that you get over worrying about what they might think, and actually bring it up when they start talking about the various job prospects on offer.

As if to illustrate just how strange the whole situation is, their reaction is actually what you half-expected it to be: not derision, or mocking, but an almost embarrassed sense of interest.

"Wow, you too?" Takay says, sounding somehow both relieved and a little nervous. "I kinda thought for a while that I was the only one who was actually tempted by all those displays. I know it's such a crazy sacrifice, but what they're offering, and if there's a chance you'd still end up like Elizar otherwise... you'd have to be crazy not to consider it at all, right?"

"Yeah, I... have to admit I've even been considering it," Vosa chimes in. "In fact, I'm pretty sure all of us are giving it serious thought, after that last job event." Your other roommates nod in agreement. "In a weird sort of way," he continues, "it's almost like they're letting you choose to win a lottery - you know, the good kind, not the kind that led to all this in the first place. At least it would be if it wasn't for what you had to go through to get it, but... considering how well Elizar, or Linyi now, managed to get into it, I'm having a hard time thinking that it would be so bad. Different, yeah, and probably really weird at first, but compared to the other not-so-inspiring stuff on tap for most of us... maybe it is somehow worth it. True, it's not like I've had that male drive yet, or actually been with a proprietor, so maybe it's actually easier to think about if you don't know what you might be missing..."

At that, Takay looks a little more nervous, glancing around the small group before he replies. "Except I have... I guess I'm a little early to develop in that respect, or maybe you guys are just late, I dunno. In some ways, I almost wonder if females, proprietors or whatever, actually have it easier, since their drive isn't a default state, but something that's only spurred in a different way, so that a regulator can turn it on and off at will. For me, at least, once that drive manifested it was just... there, this feeling that just keeps growing and growing, and the more it does, the more you want, the more you need it to be relieved. Once you've felt that, you know exactly why there have to be enough proprietors to go around."

"Huh, I guess," Seritan interjected, his ears bobbing gently in a way that usually indicated he was halfway lost in thought. "Sometimes I wonder though, it they've got all those vats that can change men into women and do all sorts of other crazy custom stuff, why not just put guys in for a little while and like... edit that drive out or something? Then you don't have to worry about how many proprietors there are..."

"Yeah," Takay replied, "but then how're you gonna have enough kids to keep the species around? And it's not that simple. Women can handle being in heat sometime, and not having that stuff other times, because that's how they actually are, and all the editing's doing is giving them more fine-grained control over when it comes on and when it doesn't. You remember all that stuff from biology class, right? Even if it's not on most of the time, or at all, women have other hormones that are separate that manage a bunch of other stuff for them. For guys, though, all those hormones that cause the drive are also tied into a bunch of other systems, and if you take them out, it messes up all sorts of things. I read a paper about some scientists who were messing with it, and they tried everything from taking away hormones to bringing certain parts back to a sort of child-like stage before they became sensitive to the hormones that caused the drive, but every single time, the guys were messed up in some way or another to the point where they couldn't work or really function properly. Maybe someday there'll be a different way to take care of it, but right now, so far as I can tell, the best anyone has been able to come up with is what we're doing now, which is to make sure there are enough proprietors that the drive is kept in check and doesn't cause any more problems."

"But... you also know what the drive is like, right? And... what it's like when that drive compels you to do stuff with a proprietor, what it makes you do with them... If you know what that's like, if you've seen how a proprietor reacts to it and what they have to put up with from you... if you know all that, do you really think it's still a good idea?"

"I'm... not sure, really. It's not like- I mean, I've only been with one a couple of times so far, you know? And even with that, I was nervous enough that I didn't really... do much, exactly, and the first time she actually had to convince me to put it in. It wasn't until I was actually inside her that my instincts took over, I guess, and even then it all happened really, really quickly. Maybe more experienced guys know how to do things differently, but... I think I was just hugging her, really tightly, but she didn't seem like she was hurt or crying or anything, just cried out a little when the spines caught and did their thing, and then it felt so good that I'm really not sure what she was doing because all I could focus on was what I was feeling. Even afterwards, though, she was still pleasant, for like the minute it took to get dressed and say goodbye. I mean, I doubt I was that good or anything, but... if there was something awful about it, she never showed it, and she didn't look disappointed or angry the one time I've returned so far. I know, obviously I've seen those news tapes with the Red Ones and everything that happened to them, but being with a proprietor, it's nothing like that. I mean, maybe there are some proprietors out there that still let you do stuff like that, but probably only if someone pays them a ton of money for it. Just normally, though, it's... quick, and close, and while it's amazing to feel your spines catch it probably feels completely crazy for her. Apart from the spines, though... I really wonder whether it's as bad as any of us might have imagined."

According to Linyi, at least, it's not, and when you hear that, you decide to jump back into the conversation, relating more of the things that Linyi has told you about her own personal experience being with men as a female proprietor. While the conversation has already been trending in that direction, you're slightly surprised to see how relieved your friends are when you relate those details of her account.

Seritan is the first to speak after you finish, as the other two are still mulling over what you said.

"Wow... I'm actually kinda surprised Linyi opened up that much about it, especially to someone who hasn't even experienced... any of it. But if what she said is right... than maybe, Takay, you're right about it, too. Maybe... maybe this is worth it."

"Yeah, could be. Although, if you think about it, Linyi kind of has a vested interest in making it sound pretty good, especially to us..."

"Really? Why?"

"I mean, just think about it. We're all friends, we've all been together a while... and all of a sudden she's apart from us, off doing something completely different, kinda all alone in that sense. What do you think she'd be more interested in - hanging out with us as we all are, and knowing that each and every one of us is eventually going to want to be with her, or see if we can all be friends again like we were, in the same business?"

"I don't think Elizar'd try and do that, to convince us to do something this... weird just so we could be closer again..."

"Well yeah, if it sucked, I can't imagine she'd try to get us all into it out of spite or something. But if she's telling the truth, and it actually is pretty nice... then why wouldn't she encourage us? And you know... even if she didn't actually say anything to that effect, now that I think about it, she's kind of got a good point..."

"Meaning?"

"Rewards or not, ultimately fun or not... we're not talking about a field trip here. It's a major thing to choose, and once you do, it's not like you can go back to how you were before. Doing that individually, alone... Linyi got through it, obviously, but that doesn't mean it wasn't rough on her, and it'd be daunting if one or another of us made that decision on our own. But if we're all feeling like we're interested, and we all think that's what we want to do... why don't we do this together? We find a benefactor that has the kind of stuff we all want, we talk with them and find out more. Then, if it all works, we get together and make that big decision as a group. We sign up together, go through the transformation together, find a place to work together, and no matter how weird it gets, we're all there for each other every step of the way. What do you think?"

"Well..." Vosa replies, sounding hesitant. "That sounds good, but... what if one of us backs out?"

"Then it's three of us that go ahead instead of four. Really, though, if I'm the only one who's experienced any of this, I'd be the one most likely to refuse it, right? After all, I'm the only one who knows what I'll be missing if I go through with this. Honestly, knowing what I know, it's probably going to be even weirder contemplating being on the other end of it, but for you guys... I dunno. I guess the whole thing is pretty crazy when you sit back and look at it. Having your cock,your balls, just be... gone, and replaced with something that cocks are designed to go inside, it's hard to really wrap my head around what it means. But at the same time, we all know that Linyi went through it, and came out the other side just fine. She's even happy about it. And if we know it's gonna be basically okay somehow, with the rewards that we can have just by agreeing to it... I say that we should do it. Really check it out, at the very least. Who's with me?"

Vosa nods quickly, and Seritan does a moment later. A moment after that, they're all staring at you with an expectant sort of look on their faces.

It's a tough decision, to be sure. What Linyi described sounded somewhere between fun and some sort of crazed fever dream. But if certain parts of being a guy, and gaining that drive, were like that anyway... Between the rewards, the lack of really better job prospects, and the fact that all evidence seems to be pointing to the fact that being a proprietor is probably a lot better than you'd imagined...

It's not much of a surprise when you nod in agreement.