This choice: Jakki Harkness. It feels only right. • Go Back...Chapter #6Jakki Harkness. It feels only right. by: Mr. George   You type in his name, and wait a moment. A databox appears with his outline information filling the left half of the screen. On the right hand side, a window opens up, and you have what you assume is a live-action video of Jack.
Your lip curls in disgust, well, not disgust, but it's slightly awkward. He's having a piss. The audio is uncomfortable, as he splashes away, he whistles smugly to himself.
Ripping your eyes from the video, you concentrate on the data.
You change Jack » Jakki, and sex male » female. You switch his ethnicity to Asian. Despite your own changes, you don't want him to be curvy, and sexy and able to manipulate men with her charms.
As you start the changes, the video box shrinks to half the size, and a new window opens. This one is modelling the changes, as you alter the details.
Sliding her confidence down, from near to extreme right towards the opposite end. You try to imagine her forcing her will on anyone. You spot the empty text box at the bottom and quickly add 'Assistant to Miss Michiko Suzuki.'
You see Jack finishing up, the last few splashes hitting the porcelain, and then see him reach to shake off the last few drops.
With a smile as wide as a cheshire cat, you hold your finger high, as if readying to launch nuclear missiles before stabbing it down forcefully. In an instant Jack glows blinding white, as if wrapped in a cocoon of light, before the light fades, and the outline resolves.
In his place, you see Jakki Harkness, the company's newest asian bombshell. You spot the horror, the confusion etched on her face, as she takes in the changes.
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You see her preparing to scream her head off, as her slender hands explore her body, frantically searching for something familiar, anything comforting. But from her short, short skirt, to the long mane of hair swishing wildly in time with her head snapping movements, down to the heels that torture her feet, there's nothing comforting, nothing familiar in the least. She can't bring herself to confirm what that tight skirt shows, there's no room and no hint of her former manhood.
You don't want her to start her new life like this. Racing to read the data quickly, you find what you're looking for, you switch the toggle aware » unaware.
You stab the 'initiate changes' button once more. This time there's no blinding cocoon, just the panic draining from her face. Replacing it her cheeks turn crimson, as she looks around what is undeniably the gents toilet. Her heels tick-tack on the ceramic floor, as she races out, hopefully before anyone can spot her and think she's a pervert or a slut....
Rocking back in the chair, you find yourself roaring with laughter. Quickly you moderate it down to a shrill giggle.
That'll end any predatory instincts, you think. She's not masculine, nor powerful anymore, the bottom of the food chain. You idly wonder how she'll react to being on the receiving end of such behaviour.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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