This choice: Martin shrieked and fainted dead away. • Go Back...Chapter #4Martin shrieked and fainted dead away. by: Mr. George   When she woke, Martin recognised the grubby ceiling of the company's first aid room. Beneath her back the stiff padded backing of the bed. As she went to sit up, a hand rested on her shoulder. A soft groan slipped out, as Martin's memory recovered. Looking down her supine body, she couldn't deny the swell of her blouse, nor the scarily short skirt, not even the slender legs extending towards the foot of the bed.
Her head slumped back against the pillow, the hope that this was a dream... an illusion shattered, as her legs scissored against each other, the teasing silky caress, unfamiliar yet unmistakable she was wearing tights. This was reinforced by the constriction around her chest, and the weight there. The shifting weight, as every breath kept her aware of the mobile mass that now sat proudly on her chest.
"Did you skip breakfast, Marti?" a sympathetic voice asked.
Turning her head, Martin to see the smiling face of a nurse. She didn't know how to answer, so didn't.
"Was your first day, too much?"
Marti opened her mouth to answer, but no words came, she was still to stunned by recent events. Closing her mouth, she settled for a nod of agreement.
"Not the best of first impressions..." the nurse observed, "But, if you work hard, you can put it behind you."
She patted Marti's hand, "In time, you can work your way out of the typing pool, and become a personal secretary." An encouraging look on her face.
"But for today, I'll send you home, and you can try again tomorrow."
She sent her on her way, with a refreshing drink, and some hope.
In shock, Marti got in the elevator, and pressed for the Ground floor. As the doors shut, her hands explored her body, desperate to find the falsies. To rip away the padding disguise. But her hands only found supple flesh, her breasts were her own, and under that skirt, inside the thong was her own sensitive pussy.
The wish to be young, and starting at the company had come true with avengence. Driving like a robot she headed home. It was smaller than she remembered, more feminine, and less well furnished. A starter property, suitable for a young woman. She wanted to race inside to the privacy to the safety of her home. But that just set her dainty bust dancing. A firm rippling that meant her nips rubbed against the constraint of her bra. Even walking up stairs was a steadier, progress, not the loping, leaping strut that Martin had used.
She found that she had some new basic cooking skills, and managed to prepare a simple meal. One beyond Martin's ability with the micro-wave and frozen food. However, the evening's exploration only confirmed again and again, that she truly was Marti. Her driving licence showing her as being a twenty year old college drop out.
A stretching yawn caught her off guard, and she headed off to bed.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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