This choice: The sound of gunfire reaches your ears, and you have to transfer quickly... • Go Back...Chapter #4The sound of gunfire reaches your ears, and you... by: Mr. George   Instantly their demeanour changes, with Agent Cochrane thrusting you into a transfer pod. Agent Lauchlan drew his gun, and cautiously left the room to investigate.
"Shut up, and stay there!" The agent barked as you go to step out of the pod. His gaze flicking between the controls and the door. The door closes on your pod stopping you from getting out. As you start to feel dizzy, you hear the sound of small arms fire mixed with the original machine-gun bursts.
"If you're not quiet, your tragic death might be more real than either of us would like..." He snarls.
It's closer, and you see Agent Cochrane draw his weapon too.
You see him return to the console, and eye up an neighbouring pod. Your dizziness builds, and you feel disconnected from your own body. Your limbs cold and unresponsive. There's an odd double-vision to your sight. Not a blurring but a parallel vision overlaid your view of the lab.
There's a burst of rapid small arms fire that cuts off suddenly, and your vision greys out. The lab vanishing from your sight, with a vague silhouette of the other agent heading towards the empty pod.
- - - - -
Blinking you feel your limbs return, as you stumble forward. The world dazzlingly bright in full colour, as you take in your surroundings. It's a bedroom, with no trace of a transfer pod. Clearly, they were only needed to transmit your mind pattern to a receptive body.
You take in the body, and yowl in frustration. The damned agents weren't joking Jimmy the Squealer is now a broad!
Not just any dame either, you look like you'd fit in in any of the boss' operations. Your body is young, firm and curvaceous. Too curvaceous, as you feel the back of your underwear vanish between ass cheeks that are too ripe and full.
https://i.pinimg.com/originals/1a/06/f4/...
Jimmy The Squealer no more
The body moves with a fluid grace, the inherent instincts guiding you to move without an awkward telling male stomping gait. You try not to be distracted by the constant bounce, and sway of this body.
Snatching up a purse, you slip your driving licence from a pocket, Jessica Sweetings, you read, automatically checking her date of birth, and other ID. There's a bank card, and a dance-studio membership. The smile spreading across your face, as you imagine her dancing for your pleasure. With that body it wouldn't be... cultured.
However, the smile faltered, as Jimmy realised he was now the one with that body. She'd be the one dancing for someone else's pleasure. Her throat constricted, as the mental image took on a different taste. With men tucking money into her underwear, as she cavorted for their amusement.
Opening the wardrobe did nothing for Jimmy's calm, as he caught sight of the various outfits. That only confirmed what he thought, what he feared. Jimmy hoped that as Jessica she was only a stripper, rather than something more hard-core.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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