This choice: "Not really a woman, more a flesh gynoid." she assures you. • Go Back...Chapter #6"Not really a woman, more a flesh gynoid.&#... by: Mr. George   You shake your head in denial. "I suggest you avoid your former colleagues, they might view you as an enticing prospect rather than a returning companion."
You're still shaking your head, as she stabs a key on her laptop. Your world lurches, the office receding into a tiny dot as if you've plunged backwards down a well.
You want to scream, but no voice emerges. You're lost in a featureless blank void. It's only then you spot a pinprick of light.
Just as sickeningly, it rushes towards you. Until it fills your vision. Looking around, you take in your surroundings. Shit! You've been transported and transplanted!
You gawp down, seeing an impressively deep cleavage, and equally intimidatingly full bust... Your own!
Running a hand down your ribs, you discover your svelte waist, and the dress that clings so revealingly to your new flesh.
The hips flare out far more than you'd like. Your hands quake as you reach backwards, discovering the full vast expanse of your magnificent ass.
She certainly delivered on her promise, this is truly a gynoid body.
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Transplanted into your new flesh.
Checking out your reflection in a nearby mirror, your eyes look vacant. You shudder at how voluptuous you are and how much of a bimbo you appear to be.
"Oh, poop..." you curse in a sultry voice that sounds naively innocent and yet provocative, too.
"I'm your liaison officer, I'll help you adjust to this new life." Her arms are folded, and her look sour and disapproving. A hint of insecurity in her glance to your bust, her own is far more modest.
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Your liaison officer.
She raises a hand cautioning you to silence. "I don't know your past, and I don't care. I'm just here to help you adjust."
Your mouth opens to explain, to protest. But, the words refuse to come. Your crime now feels vague and indistinct. Your past life lacks any certainty, only the sense that you were a man before lingers.
Wetting your lips, you can't even recall your name! A flash of a sleazy existence makes you shudder, that's a life you don't want to experience.
Your mind races, desperately trying to piece together your past. Questions cascade over one another.
Were you a witness, and this is your escape from that life?
An innocent, unfortunate witness, a bartender, or waitress, who saw the wrong thing?
Or worse, were you involved... a pimp, or a madame, who kept those poor souls in line?!
You shudder at the uncertainty. Straightening your shoulders, you put that in the past. You want to embrace this new life, and the opportunities it'll bring.
She clears her throat. "I said, I'll be with you for a week, after that you're on your own."   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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