Chapter #6Blushing you consider the idea. by: Mr. George  Your mouth going dry at the thought, your heart races at the possibilities. You try to speak, but a rasp is all you manage. Swallowing, until you can feel saliva returning to your mouth. Your tongue darting out to wet lips that are parched as a desert.
Misreading your silence, Mr. Proctor has other advice.
"If you don't want to be youthful, perhaps something else."
"No." you respond too quickly. Blushing you continue in a lower voice, "I do want to experience youth, and a different perspective."
Cheeks burning with shame, you fight your nervousness. Refusing to allow that to guide you to a more timid option.
"I want to have a genius IQ, but the body of a bimbo. I want people to under-estimate me."
He pats your shoulder, congratulating your decision. "I have just what you want."
The walk to the pod, is too quick, as your mind races. Already regretting the decision, you battle to not sound fickle and indecisive. Your legs tremble as you go to step inside the pod.
It's a tight squeeze, feeling more like a coffin, than a rebirth. You turn to face Mr. Proctor, giving him a smile like a grimace, Carol saw the rictus grin. "It's okay to be nervous, but we will deliver..."
The pod doors close, and the urge to escape, to reach out... to leap out is overwhelming, but you delay just a moment too long. It closes with a metallic clang that sounds very final. Before you can panic further you feel your consciousness slip away, as a hiss fills the pod.
A panic filled scream dies in your throat, as you feel claustrophobic, and terrified.
- - - - -
You wake with a start, and sit upright. The shifting weight on your chest, the strain in your shoulders, and the tickle of your hair against them, tells you everything you need to know.
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b3/0b/f1/...
Your glasses spill down your nose and Mister Proctor falls out of focus. Your mind races, at all the new sensations. Smacking your lips at the sticky sensation, you wonder if it's the return of that nervous dryness. Your tongue darts out, and you taste cherry. Eyes going wide, you realise you're wearing lipstick too.
"Eu não sou cadela."
You know portuguese now. Other languages bubble to the surface.
"No soy una muñeca."
Spanish follows, with a Castillian lilt. Your eyes sparkle with delight.
"私は浮気女じゃない!"
You know Japanese!
As Carol guides your gaze towards a mirror, you see that it all makes sense.
"This is the base model Japanese bimbo-look." She tells you.
"We have added some enhancements to your disguise." Tapping the screen on her tablet, you feel your balance shift, and gasp as you feel the flush of more hormones race through your veins.
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/38/55/14/...
A sly glance to Mr. Proctor shows that your body is having the distracting effect you wanted. The urge to cradle the girls is hard to resist, especially considering the extra strain on your shoulders.
"This is nice." You think, the words come out in Chinese. “這很好。”
You want to wave her off, as you see her tap the screen one more time. But as your bust surges once more. You lean back, your centre of balance now very different.
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c0/1b/f6/...
"This is enough!" you squeak/squeal as you take in the over-ripe bust. Another wave of estrogen floods through your veins, bathes your brain.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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