As you settle into the chair, you wonder about the wisdom of your choice. Not only taking on the form of a Latina, but the language and mannerisms, too.
Your last memory, of Carol's amused face, as the door closed. Despite the procedure, you still feel sick, the sensation of the room spinning around you. Squeezing your eyes, closed, you try and stop the sensation of whirling down a plughole. You don't want the contrast of opening your eyes, and the unmoving ceiling fighting your woozy senses.
Instead you concentrate on your breathing. Slowing that, steadying yourself, calming yourself. It feels good, the slowness, the heaviness coming naturally and easily. As more things fall into place, you feel the swimming sensation receding. You know you're lying on your back. Taking a deep breath, you sit up on the bed.
It has to be a bed, it's too comfy, too padded to be a sofa, besides you were lying down. With a soft groan, you realise, you're still not up to full speed.
The softness of the groaning, your groaning helps you focus. It's the soft woman's voice that brings you back to where you are. A smile playing uncertainly on your lips, as you recall your holiday plans. That also explains the shifting of your chest, as you sat up. The heat of the Sun must be beaming in the window, and the unfamiliar, tightness around your chest.
"Oh..." you mumble, mutter to yourself, "a bra... my bra."
Your hands cupping the material, you wonder how big a girl you are. Or maybe it's just your hands are smaller now.
Opening your eyes, you see, you are indeed well endowed. Your cheekbones are gorgeous, and you purr with delight at how beautifully you've turned out.
https://68.media.tumblr.com/efa7af5ac128...
Those lips inviting thoughts that you're not in any way capable of satisfying.
"Madre Dios, che tetas grande..." your pride swelling.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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