It’s Better Being Bambi
“Open audio. Project Titavorax, physical file TVX2370 dash QL dash 0081, recovery 77. Barbara Devereaux. Age 42. Married. One daughter. Professor of Modern English Literature at Bluesprings College with the usual caveats. Interviewer anonymous. Date withheld. Reference project guidelines section 78, subsection 12, and section 34, subsection 2, paragraphs 1 and 14.”
(pause)
“Professor Devereaux has not completed the physical changes induced by Professor Knocknee’s machine, but still manifests significant changes in her appearance, particularly increased breast size, decreases in the waist and butt, and apparent age in the mid-20s.”
“Bring her in.”
(footsteps, indistinct noises, a closing door.)
“Let’s take this gag off you why don’t we?”
“You bastards! How dare you kidnap me like this! I was being DPed just fine when your goons broke into the hunting lodge! Then a bunch of gays in military uniforms haul me back down here and put me back in that damn machine! America doesn’t allow gays in the military! I’m an American citizen! I want a lawyer!”
(zzziiiip)
“Or at least something better than this ugly smock or those impossible panties (which I flushed down . . .). Ngf.”
“Now. I hope you can listen to me and suck my cock at the same time?”
“I’ll take that glare for a yes.”
“I assure you I am with the federal goverment. Which department doesn’t matter as this is a completely ‘black’ operation. (Slower please.) When we learned about Professor Knocknee’s machine we set out to recover all his subjects. Imagine our surprise when, after we switched them back, some of them didn’t want to be changed. Ouch!”
“Fuck me! I’m sooo sorry. I can’t get myself off and now it’s like I don’t know how to suck a cock any more.”
(slurp.)
“No harm done. Just keep your lips over your teeth. As I was saying we were surprised, but (Ahh! Very Nice) a (Ah-ha) legal . . . opinion (a little too much dear) said the women (much better thank you) could be changed back if they gave ‘informed consent.’ Now if you want to be changed back, you, oh—god—you’re nodding—throat—Uhhh— I’m coming!”
(pause followed by the sound running water)
“Ahhh.”
“Very nice snowball Mrs. Deveraux. Would like like some water?”
“Mmm. Tasty, but not as good as before.”
“But still tasty. Remember that.”
“I consent. Can we fuck now?”
“I’m afraid there are some things that I still need to inform you of.”
“But I want to fuck no-ow!”
“If we can get through this . . .”
“Don’t I have a pretty pussy? See how it’s all pink and wanting? What are you doing? Hey! Ow! Nglrgf! Grg!”
“Sorry to gag you again, but you need to listen, not talk right now. Understand?
“Yes they’re wonderful breasts, but I’m not going to do anything until you cooperate.”
“nng.”
(indistinct word)
“Now, in order for you to give your informed consent we will have to go throught a number of things. You only have to do two things though. First, cooperate.
“nyyglygg.”
Feel free to imagine me as some else, someone you particularly want to be with right now. Can you do that? I can blindfold you if that would help. Ah, no blindfold then—and thank you.
“The second thing you have to do is concentrate on the moment. Just forget the past for a little while. Can you do that? Don’t think about how things used to be, just live in the now.”
“Very good! We can actually begin then. Let me just unlock these handcuffs so you can stand. Now put your other hand behind you.” (click) “Bend over my desk.”
(rustle)
“Now we’ll just fasten these. I can’t have you moving around too much you see.”
“Ng.”
“Oh, you like that don’t you? Now to see . . .
“Hneeeee!”
“My goodness you ARE wet. A little too wet I think. Let me clean you up a bit.
“Nnyah!”
(Sound of running water and some splashing.)
“Actually I think I’ll start on your back. You have a nice back. It’s a pleasure just to run a soft sponge up and around and back and down . . . Goodness. You’re on your tiptoes. Is something wrong with your feet?
“Hnkk!”
“You need to relax. My last girlfriend told me I gave an excellent foot massage. Of course I liked it doing most after she’d been wearing high heels all day. I got the pleasure of seeing her in high heels, then the pleasure of seeing her relax as I massaged her feet.”
“Nnk ee. Nnk ee. Nnk ee.”
“My goodness, you’re even WETTER now. Let me just run the sponge here.”
“Nn!”
“And here.”
“Nn nnuh!!”
“And then rub a little bit here.”
“Hnneeeeeeeeee!”
“And doesn’t it feel at least a bit better to get that cleaned?”
(loud breathing)
“Now I need to check . . .”
“nnnn-nnng-nnnn-nn.”
“Yes, your g-spot is a little large, but even women who haven’t been through the machine have one. I assure you.”
“Nyk kkng.”
“Now if I twist my hand a little I can rub here,”
“Nyy!”
“and here,”
“Ng Nyy!
“at the same time.”
“Nn-nyuh, hnk-ha, nnyy!”
“You’re on your toes again, but I think I’d rather keep doing this.”
“Nyuh! Nyuh! Gnah! Hnneeeeeeeeeeeee!”
“And now you’re all over sweat in spite of the cleaning I did earlier. At least you’ve relaxed a little.”
“Hn hnk. Hn hnk.” (panting)
“And, frankly, I sort of like a sweating woman. Not plastic you know.”
“But now it’s time to stick my cock in that lovely pussy of yours.”
“Ngng. Ngah!”
“Fine and tight. And you love having a cock in your pussy don’t you? Better than a sponge or fingers?”
“Nnguh!”
“You don’t have to be a machine-made bimbo to be a slut, do you?”
“Ngo! Rrrr!”
“You make a” (pant) “great slut. Even . . . after the reversal.”
“Nnnnn!”
(squelching and slapping sounds gradually speed up.)
“Feel my cock” (pant) “slut. Feel what it does” (pant) “to you.” (pant) “You want it harder” (pant) “don’t you?” (pant) “You want more of this.” (pant) “You want to come.” (pant) “You’re going to come . . .”
“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
(rapid slapping continues until . . .)
“Uh! Ooahh!! Fuck!”
“Nnaah. Shlurp. Mph.”
(Moderate pause.)
“Let me get this off. How do you feel?”
(gasp)
“Fucked out.”
“Wonderful! So you know sex can be great without going through the machine.”
“Well . . . It was still better as Bambi. And before you say anything. I did exactly what you said. I lived in the moment. You were great . . . really, REALLY great, . . . maybe even better than that, . . . but . . . it was still better as Bambi.”
“Let me undo these straps.”
“I don’t think I can get up just yet, and my arms hurt.”
“What about your husband and daughter?”
“Fuck the bastard! He fucked me maybe three times a month. And my mealy-mouthed little priss of a daughter should be run through the machine. Teach her to be a real woman.”
(creaking sounds)
“So you definitely want to go back through the machine then?”
“Yes.”
(pause)
“Kelli? Please come in. I have an errand for you.”
“No Kelli. She doesn’t need a tongue bath. No. I don’t need a tongue bath either. Please take Bambi here to the machine room. The one with the magic glass tunnel?”
“Oh, ah, sore, but it feels good.”
(pause)
“I know it won’t make any difference in a few minutes, but I’m curious. What will happen to me, or should I say Bambi?”
“There are a number of military bases where the government can put Bambi’s skills to good use.”
“Oh yeah. Soldiers in uniform. Cocks in pretty wrapping paper.”
“Can I have cocks in pretty wrapping paper?”
“Oh.”
“Kelli. Stop rubbing Bambi’s breasts,”
“Pretty bubbies.”
“Ah.”
“Go to the magic glass tunnel room Kelli. Then you and Bambi can visit the security team.”
“Oo. OK. You’ll like the security team Pretty Bumbies. There’s five of them. That’s three apiece.”
“Barbara? You can change your mind at any time. Right up to when he throws the switch.”
(the sound of a door closing is followed by the sound of running water)
(long pause)
“Begin session notes:”
(pause)
“In spite of lesser physical changes than all but three recoveries to date, Bambi, recovery 77 that is, demonstrated greater mental changes than the norm. Though she displayed some ordinary curiosity at the very end of the session it seems unlikely that she will change her mind about reverting. Indeed, it seems likely to me that had she not been relaxed by my permitting her reversion that she would not have displayed that curiosity.
“Assuming no change this makes 74 recoveries who have chosen to revert.
“Unlike most, recovery 77 made no references to her physical changes that could be related to her willingness to re-embrace Professor Knocknee’s machine.”
“I must also acknowledge that my attempt to use recovery 71 as a personal gofer and . . . Damn! Wrong file.
“End audio.”