Choose Your Life
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To Choose A Life free porn video
There has always been something which fascinated me about life - what if we
had the choice of lives? What if we got to pick the parameters of our
existence on earth? What would we choose? From that deep philosophical
musing, this story emerged.
Permission is given for any free archive site to archive the story. Comments
may be directed to: [email protected]
And now, on with the story...
**************
To Choose a Life...
by Elrod W.
Dr. Williams stretched out his hand to his patient, eagerly shaking her hand
as she stepped into his office. "How are you today, Angela?" he asked
warmly.
The young woman looked at him nervously, took his hand and shook it, then
nodded her head. "I'm okay, I guess." She stepped quickly to the couch and
sat down, anxiously crossing her legs.
As he sat in his own chair and picked up his patient's folder, Dr. Williams
noted that she was slightly less nervous than her first visit. She was
attractive - or would be, if she would take care of herself, Dr. Williams
noted. It was almost like she wanted to be unattractive. But that was
common in cases like this, he reminded himself. "Have you tried the
techniques?"
Angela nervously brushed the auburn locks of hair from her face. "They
didn't help," she said, biting her lip and smearing her lipstick.
Dr. Williams stroked his beard absently. "None of them?"
Angela sobbed. "I couldn't. I just couldn't." She looked away, out the
window of his office. "It was just too much like a ... a ... a penis!"
Dr. Williams watched his patient carefully. "And it still seems gay?" he
asked.
Angela nodded without looking at him. Her hair, a cute auburn flip with
bangs, bobbed with her acknowledgement. "I don't know what I'm going to
do, Doc." She turned toward him, tears on her cheeks. "I've messed up two
engagements. I know it's natural to have sex. I want to have sex! I want to
enjoy the special feelings with a special man. But I can't!"
Dr. Williams nodded solemnly. Sexual disfunctions were common. More
common than most people realized. "You feel a conflict?"
Angela nodded again. "It's like a part of me wants to be sexy, feminine.
And another part of me feels like that's homosexual!" She sobbed. "Look at
me! I wear clothes to make me look sexy!"
Dr. Williams had to agree. His patient was wearing a low-cut blouse,
designed to emphasize her modest breasts. Her waist was narrow, but not
wasp-like. Her skirt flared around her hips - womanly but not too big. And
the shortness of her skirt emphasized her shapely legs. "That might be one
conclusion," he said carefully.
Angela forced a smile. "Ever the diplomat." She looked straight at him.
"And look at my hair, my makeup. I don't want to be sexy! I'm afraid a man
might find me attractive."
Dr. Williams again had to agree. She wore practically no makeup - only her
lipstick and a tiny bit of blush. And her hair, attractive though it could have
been, was left unkempt. Long fingernails, no polish. Everything about her
was a contradiction. "And you still find yourself both attracted to and
repelled by women?"
Angela closed her eyes for a moment, then wiped away a tear. "I look at
women, and somehow find it ..." she looked down, ashamed.
"You find it what?"
Angela blushed. "I find myself looking, almost like I'm remembering..."
"Remembering what?"
Angela looked down. "Kissing a pair of full, pouty lips. Caressing a pair of
big breasts. Making love."
Dr. Williams was writing more notes. "You find yourself attracted to other
women?"
Angela looked up, shock in her eyes. "No," she said firmly. "I'm not
attracted to other women!" She looked down, tears streaming down her
cheeks. "I'm not a lesbian." For several seconds, she let the tears flow,
sobbing softly. "I... I don't know what to do." Her voice was strained, soft
but clearly betraying her pain. "The only option I can think of is joining a
convent."
Dr. Williams set down his pen. "Angela, we've been over this for nearly a
year," he said with a sigh. "You had what some would call an ideal
childhood. Loving parents. Good friends. No evidence of sexual abuse.
You're going to a good college, getting good grades." He looked at her
chart. "But you can't get close to men. Not beyond friendship, anyway."
He dropped the chart on his lap and sighed. "You find yourself aroused by
other women - naked women. When you watch sex videos, you watch the
woman, not the man. You can't use sex toys, because they seem
homosexual. And yet," he paused for dramatic effect, "yet you have no
desire for women. The thought of lesbian sex repulses you." He steepled
his fingers in front of his face. Finally, after a long silence, he dropped his
hands. "I think we need to try some hypnosis." He quickly raised his hands
to stop Angela's protests. "Yes, I know we tried it before, but I want to try
again. To look in other areas of your personality.""
Angela nodded, her eyes misty. "Like maybe some conflict in a past life or
something?"
**********************
The voice was far away, gentle and guiding. Angela drifted through a light
fog, feeling herself float free of the physical world. "Tell me what you see,"
"It's a nice place - warm, and light, and happiness. Yes, that's it.
Happiness. Peace and contentment."
"Do you see yourself?"
Angela looked around, searching. "No," she answered finally. Then a figure
caught her eye. "Wait! I see someone I think I recognize!" A long pause.
"Oh, my God!"
*************************
Albert Thompson walked - no, more like floated - down the - well, it wasn't
really a road. Kind of like a path in a glorious meadow. Around him, others
floated by. Everyone was white - almost glowingly white. And wearing nice
white clothes. Togas? Robes? Albert shook his head. It didn't matter. In
the background, a lovely music seemed to fill the air. Everywhere. Soft,
comforting, peaceful. Albert smiled to himself. Eventually, he drifted into a
woody area, and then to a small structure. A building? A shop? It seemed
to be a shop of some type. Even though that made no sense here.
He paused outside the door, then slowly drifted in.
"Good day, Albert. Very nice to see you here." The shopkeeper (?) smiled
pleasantly at him.
Albert smiled at the shopkeeper. "Good morning, Peter." He instantly
realized he'd made a mistake in protocol. "I'm most sorry, sir," he sputtered,
his eyes wide with shock at the seriousness of his error. "I meant to say
Saint..."
The shopkeeper smiled and held up his hands. "No need to apologize,
Albert."
Albert was curious. "You sent for me?"
Peter smiled. "Yes, Albert. We have another opening. I thought you might
like another life."
Albert's jaw dropped. "Another opening? And you offer it to me? I'm
honored," he stammered. "Surely there are others more worthy..."
Peter shook his head, smiling. "Albert, it's your turn. You haven't had
many chances, you know." He held up his hands, stopping Albert's protest.
"I know you like to serve. And we appreciate it very much. But everyone
should have a chance to feel grass between their toes once in a while." He
pulled out a scroll and opened it. "And, according to my records, you
haven't walked the Earth for over a hundred years now."
In fact, Albert was finding the prospect exciting. "Of course, I'll go. If it's
my turn."
Peter smiled. "Frankly, Albert, you're starting to get bored. And there's
nothing worse than being bored. It's time you got some new experiences, to
break the monotony." He turned and led Albert into the back of the shop.
They stopped in front of a blank wall. "You know the routine. First, we
review your past experiences. Then you can choose." The room dimmed
and the screen lit up. First was a small boy, an African lad. He died early, of
disease and hunger. Next came an older man, white and blond-haired,
shivering as snow fell around his house. Around him were gathered others -
his family - watching, comforting him as he died. Then an Indian brave,
nondescript, average, dying with an arrow piercing his heart. An elderly
gardener in front of an English cottage, tending his flowers when he fell from
a heart attack. A sailor clutching at the shattered remains of his ship as he
fought to stay afloat. Many lives, many men. All reviewed in mere seconds.
Peter looked at Albert, then stepped into the next room. Albert gasped. He
always did. The room was lined floor to ceiling with shelves, holding
various symbols and parts. Scrolls, hats, shoes, and other odds and ends.
Most curious, however, was the mannequin on display, next to what looked
like a computer display. "Okay, Albert. Now it's time to..."
"To choose a life," Albert finished, half smiling.
Peter smiled warmly. "Yes, of course. You know the routine."
Albert gulped. This was the part he liked least. "Yes, sir. I get to choose
four aspects of my new life. The grand design fills in the rest. I'll start with
the body."
Peter smiled. "Most do."
Albert stepped to the display and touched the screen. Immediately, a menu
lighted, including one labeled with a big question mark - God's choice.
Albert began touching the choices. First, he picked the size - height and
weight of the adult the body would be. The display responded by showing
the body - crude, without many details, but Albert's chosen body.
Peter watched him, frowning. "Be careful, Albert. You know that can be
dangerous. In all your past experiences, you've never done this before."
Albert looked up and smiled. "I know. But I've lived life one way too many
times. Frankly, it was boring. I want to try this." Albert continued keying
in his choices. Slender, but athletic. He passed through the hair choices -
red, blonde, brunette, black - they were all there. Curly, straight, wavy.
And the display dutifully showed examples of each choice. Albert selected
those details, then turned to the face. Nose, eyes, ears, chin, cheeks, lips.
"So many details," Albert commented softly as he continued keying in his
choices. And the choices went on. Hands. Feet. Arms, legs. Chest.
Finally, Albert keyed a button that said simply 'Done'.
Peter glanced at the display, concern etched on his features. "Are you sure?"
Albert smiled and nodded, and Peter shrugged. "I can't stop you, you know.
Those are the rules. But you have been warned." Peter pushed a button on
the display, and the mannequin on the display stand changed into the exact
body Albert had specified, down to the last detail. "Are you really sure?"
Peter asked one last time.
Albert nodded, then walked back into the displays. He went deliberately to a
shelf, and after searching, took out what looked like a diploma. He handed it
to Peter. Next, Albert took a map from a shelf, a map of the upper midwest
of the North American continent. Peter took the map and placed it next to the
display. "One more, Albert," Peter said.
Albert sat in a chair, thinking and stroking his chin. "This is always so
hard."
Peter smiled. "For some, this is easy. For others, it is very difficult.
Usually, those who find this part easy find their experience difficult. And
vice-versa."
Finally, Albert rose from his chair. He crossed the shop and took a small
lamp from a shelf, then handed it to Peter. Peter's eyes widened. "Light?"
Albert nodded. "I want to be a light for others. To bring a ray of sunshine to
people's lives."
Peter nodded. "Overused metaphor, but nice." Peter looked again at Albert.
"You know that sometimes, if the differences are too great, some memories
might leak through. You know what confusion that can cause."
Albert swallowed and nodded. "I know. But I want this."
Peter smiled. "Just stand still. I'll get this put together in a few seconds."
As Peter began his work, Albert considered his choices. Especially the first
one. He looked over the body he had chosen. Five feet, five or six inches.
35-26-34. Petite? Albert decided the word didn't exactly fit. Small, but not
fragile. Not overly large breasts, not too tiny a waist, not too wide hips.
Feminine, but not slinky. And topped by wavy auburn hair. Brown eyes.
Big brown eyes. Pert, slightly upturned nose. Soft cheeks. Moderate lips -
attractive, but not puffy and full. Peter took the diploma. It vanished into the
body. Reasonably intelligent, Albert had chosen. Not a bimbo. But then, he
hadn't selected the body of a bimbo. Next, the map. He - she - would be
born somewhere in the upper midwest of the US. And the lamp. Albert
knew that the girl - he - would have a cheerful personality. Something others
would admire, something which could bring warmth to others lives.
Peter finished, then stepped back to Albert. He offered his hand. "I wish
you peace and good fortune." Albert accepted his hand, and was dazzled by
a blinding light as he felt himself being drawn into the body.
***************************
The doctor's hands expertly guided the baby's head as the woman pushed
one last time. Then, suddenly, he was holding the new life. He slapped the
baby's bottom, producing a loud cry. "Congratulation, Mr. and Mrs. Martin.
It's a girl."
Quickly, the nurse toweled off the wet baby, wrapped it in another towel, and
handed it to the proud new mother. Tears streamed from her eyes as she
accepted the new child, tears of joy and wonder. She held the baby close as
her husband leaned over, smiling with delight as he looked at his new
daughter. "Hi, there, Angela," the new daddy said excitedly. "Hi!"
*************************
Dr. Williams smiled gently as Angela Martin awakened from her trance. "I
think we've made some progress today," he said in a comforting tone.
Angela looked at him, confused, frightened. "You don't think all those
memories are crazy?" she asked nervously.
Dr. Williams shook his head. "No, I don't." Confusion raced through his
head, but he kept it at bay, the result of years of practice. "Those memories,
somehow, are related to your problems."
Angela shook her head, a tear trying to leak onto her cheek. "What ... what
does it mean, doc?" she asked, fighting confusion. "Are they past lives? Was
I a man in a past life? Is that why I'm so afraid of sex with men?" The
questions came pouring out, the floodgates opened by the hypnotic session.
"Am I having - you know - delusions?"
Dr. Williams shook his head. "I don't think so. The memories are so clear.
Unlike any I've ever heard." He shuddered involuntarily, afraid of the
implications of this little session. "Some people believe very seriously about
past lives and reincarnation. In such a school of thought, the reality of being
a man in a past life is intruding in your subconscious, manifesting itself as a
revulsion toward sex with a man. To your past self, that act would be
homosexual. And the subconscious past experiences conflict with your
religion, which teaches against reincarnation. And against homosexuality.
Your conscious and subconscious minds are battling - core beliefs against the
subconscious experiences." He smiled gently, reassuring his patient. "When
we have such conflicts in the subconscious, we can help." He stood,
indicating that their time was up. Angela stood as well, still visibly shaken.
"You have a lot of questions. And I promise you we'll get them worked
out." He opened the door to his office. "You're next appointment is
Thursday?" he asked.
Angela nodded. "I'll be here next Thursday. At 3:00." She stepped toward
the door, then paused and turned back to Dr. Williams. "You know,
somehow I feel better. Like I know why I have the problem. I know that
this was my choice. I know that things will get worked out. I feel like ...
like using the - thing - isn't so wrong. Does that make any sense?"
Dr. Williams smiled. "Surprisingly, it does." And after she left, he sat down
in his chair, a puzzled look on his face. This was impossible, he thought.
Ten or more lives, all male, some rather brutish and rough. Every time,
reincarnated as someone else. Reincarnated from heaven. By Saint Peter.
Surely the memories were delusional. And yet, he couldn't dismiss them.
They were too clear, too consistent. And they would explain her fear of men
- the fear of homosexuality. After a year of sessions, two and three times a
week, hypnosis, everything, this was the first thing Dr. Williams had found
which could explain things. Angela had been a man in the past - and the
subconscious memories of that past were interfering with her normal life. He
sat for a long time, thinking about the implications of what Angela's memory
had revealed.
After a long pause, for the first time since he was in high school, Dr.
Williams crossed himself and closed his eyes to pray.
Far off, a shopkeeper lifted his eyes from the monitor and smiled, knowing
that Albert was going to be all right.
(the end)
Bree
- 15.06.2021
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