Still naked, Rebecca found a spot on an unoccupied bench and put his bags down. It felt awkward, but looking around he noticed two things: almost everyone else in the room was female, and some of them were wearing clothes - though the clothing options seemed to consist entirely of loose-fitting workout style stuff.
Before he could get settled down, a girl from a bench the next row over stood up and walked over to him. She walked as if she was ill, with one hand against her stomach, her legs kind of shuffling along. Her red hair was bunched up in a hastily-tied ponytail that bounced against her back. "Are you in the right spot? This bus is all Farm Program people."
"Yeah. I'm uh.." Rebecca hesitated, nearly giving her old name. "Rebecca now, I guess." He felt a little ridiculous saying that, even though the computer system was probably already updating his information to reflect his new sex.
"Heather," she replied. "I was going to go with a number, but it'd be too hard to remember. I'm headed for the chicken coop. You?"
"The um.. milking barn."
Her eyes went wide. "Wow. I mean.. I'm just surprised. Have you always wanted to be a girl?"
"I'd never thought about it before. Just adventurous, I guess."
"Well, welcome to the fairer sex..." Heather's voice trailed off into a groan.
"What's wrong?"
She bent over, clutching at her stomach. "My eggs are coming in. Most of the chickens are due to lay this afternoon, but I don't know if I'm going to make it until then. The doctor said you get used to it, but right now it feels like a stomachache."
"Eggs? Plural? I thought chickens only laid one a day or so."
"Not us," Heather groaned. "Three to five eggs, three times a day. My guess is I'm closer to five right now."
Rebecca started to say something, but was interrupted by a worker in a jumpsuit. "Are you number 305? Your clothes are ready. Go pick up your stuff, we're leaving soon."
"I'm number 305," Heather said.
"Then that means you must be 306," the worker said to Rebecca. "Can you help her get to the pickup area? It's right over there. Just tell them you're 305 and 306."
Rebecca nodded and stood up, allowing Heather to hold onto his arm while the other remained at her stomach. The pickup area was a small counter in the wall, with a pair of gendered changing areas next to it. Rebecca suspected the men's room didn't get a lot of traffic. A single worker manned it. "Name and species?"
"Heather, chicken."
Rebecca hesitated a minute. "Rebecca, cow."
The worker didn't even give Rebecca's male body a second glance. "Go through the door and find your numbers on the pigeonholes. Anything you were wearing in the exam room will be there, along with your clothes for the trip. You'll both probably need new ones in the next few days, so don't worry if they stop fitting."
Rebecca sat Heather down with the cardboard box from the slot numbered 305, and then opened his own. Inside the box was a short-sleeve shirt, light and breathable, and a matching pair of shorts. Beneath that was a pair of panties and a bra - no frills or lace, just black cotton. They looked normal, except where they weren't. The underwear was cut low and the shorts had a zipper in the back, most likely to accommodate a tail. The shirt also had a zipper along the front, which Rebecca opened experimentally. It seemed to be to allow the shirt to expand, probably to allow for the breast growth he'd be undergoing. The thought of that made him shiver a little, more out of pleasure than fear.
"Oh good, they gave you a claspless one. I thought I'd have to teach you how to clasp a bra." Heather was already dressed, though her outfit was a bit different, namely lacking the zipper across the chest.
The bra was certainly a new experience, though not an entirely unpleasant one. Rebecca gathered his phone and wallet and put them in his pockets, only to realize that his phone wouldn't quite fit in them.
"You'll have to get a purse," Heather said. "But for now, watch and learn." She removed her phone from her purse and slipped it into her bra. While Heather's breasts certainly weren't huge, they did a good enough job at hiding the phone. Rebecca did the same, finding his bra to be surprisingly roomy. "I just hope my phone's milkproof."
With their new clothes on and their personal items recovered, Rebecca and Heather left for the waiting bus.