This choice: A busty college professor • Go Back...Chapter #4A busty college professor by: Mr. George   You allow them to apply all the electrodes and sensors to your skull. At various times a technician flicks a switch, and you feel a tickle run through your brain. Screen after screen surround you, as you lie back in the leather chair. It brings back unpleasant memories of trips to the dentist.
Everyone bustles around you, focused on their jobs. At the sound of the door opening you turn you head, and see the representative again.
"Ready?" she asks.
You want to babble away, nerves building at what you're planning.
"Will I be ... gay... in my new body? Is she attractive...? What does she teach?"
Stepping over the snaking cables, she reaches your side, and strokes your hair as if she's calming a pet.
Humiliatingly, it seems to work, as a warm lethargy spreads through your body. But that's spread out from your arm, then you see the syringe.
"A little anaesthetic eases the transition, weakening the brain/body link."
She looks around the various technicians getting thumbs up, nods until everyone signals that they're ready. You try to follow yourself, but already your head feels too heavy to lift from the chair. Even your eyes seem to lag behind your thoughts, disorienting you.
"Your body is a professor, with a lot of knowledge to impart. Her preferences will remain with her body, so you won't feel uncomfortable. As to your subject, you studied at the University of life...."
You groan out an incoherent protest that turns into a drooling gape.
Then the world whirl about you, as if you've been flushed down a plughole.
Even more disorienting is when it reverses. Swirling back up to a similar but different room.
The representative, sitting at your side is entirely different, though with the same bearing. His teeth pale yellow, with gaudy gold replacements being revealed by his lecherous smile.
"Welcome to your new life. Miki."
Your head lolls as you are lifted from the chair. This body too is dulled by anaesthetic. Your eyes refusing to focus, nor your body to respond. But it must be lighter, as the rep can lift you on your own. Even dull and disoriented, you can't mistake the heaving alien movement from your chest. You must have an impressive bust, as you gaze at the ceiling passing you are taken outside to recuperate.
"You're a popular girl, Miki, with your coppery hair, exotic after all those husbands with their straight black hair. You feel the rhythmic tugging at your shoulders as the anaesthetic wears off. A bouncing in time with the uneven steps of your bearer.
Abandoned outside on a sun lounger, you wait until you feel the last of the buzzing disorientation leave you. If you want to escape this fraudulent body swap, you need to do it on your first attempt. If you fail, they'll be alert for the next attempt. Opening your eyes into tight slits you survey the situation. The garden seems to have a high wall around it, protecting and containing you.
You lurch upwards, almost careering forward into your own lap. The sloshing of your bust unsettling, and unplanned. Getting to your feet, you immediately realise your escape is impossible. You aren't just busty. You've been planted in one of those genetically 'enhanced' women, an enhancement you admired as a guy (even if you'd never admit it). The reality is even more terrifying. You're blessed with nipples each as big as your clenched fist, and more sensitive than you thought possible.
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With the wall pressed against your back, your long hair trapped, yanking at the roots as you attempt to turn your head. Another thing to accommodate, another burden, another humiliation. You're intimately aware of the slightest movement of the material of your top. Even with your hands cradling, supporting, steadying your bust, the teasing is continuous. The effect just as irresistible, the heat, the need you feel building.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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