"You'll love your new body, when I've finished." They're dulled by the thick walls of the machine.
"I was never really fully convinced you were the match for me Brad." You imagine her stroking the outer shell of the machine. She sounds genuinely sad, and concerned.
"I like being in charge, and you like obeying me." You nod to yourself at the start, and are shaking your head at the last of her words. You're just a horny guy who enjoys her body. You flinch when she gives imperious commands. She stands half a head shorter than you, and her voice is whiny, tending towards shrill when she gets demanding.
You obey, to stop her using that ear-grating tone. Her hands planted on her hips, aren't the intimidating display she imagines. Nor the look of resolution she's practiced, it looks more like a pout, a warning of a childish rant.
"I'm the man! You're the woman!" You pitch your voice loud enough to be heard through the machine. Hoping you don't sound too arrogant, or sexist. But, she does have that incredible body, and you and her just fit.
- - - - -
The glossy, pristine whiteness of the interior is featureless. Even the outline of the door is impossible to distinguish.
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