The Palo Alto Method
- 3 years ago
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Dyre's Method free porn video
I sat from the observer's chair as they were brought in. For the first
time, they looked scared. They knew what was coming. Not pain, not
punishment as such... just that they were going to be turned round,
into... someone who would hate what they were. But everyone sitting
next to me agreed this was the best thing.
These kids had shown no interest or liking for the world they lived in,
their community, their society... that was about to end. In a few
months they would be the very girls they often preyed on, and would
have desire for peace and gentleness they joked about. A computerized
image of their future selves appeared on the screen. They were
sobbing... But they were finally manhandled and dragged off. Everyone
clapped. Grimacing, I turned and walked off. Wondering why it was
suggested I should see that. I wasn't a youth... not any more. And I
was never a typical teen. More's the pity. I was one of the other lot.
The ones that never get mentioned. Few, but real. Scared shitless of
life, clinging to the home. My folks would have been far happier if I
had been. They would have known what to do then. Still, what's done is
done. I turned the corner to go to the main entrance area when... some
thing shot through me... the world spun and I passed out.
When I came to, I was on a metal slab... in a room. Looking beside me
were... the kids I had seen being taken. Unconscious now, and being
readied for their regrowth into their new forms...
"I'm not one of them! I'm not..."
A voice spoke, "No, you're not. In some ways you're worse. You give
nothing of yourself. You live at half speed. You do no wrong, but do no
good. You, unlike them can slip under the radar, and make your illness
seem good..."
"But what the hell can you do about that? They have... fire, anger.
I've got just resignation and fear... can't do anything with that!"
"That remains to be seen..."
There was a faint smell of something... and the world faded again...
I was on a bed. Strapped down. I tried moving... I moved my legs, and
froze as I failed to feel something I should have felt between my legs.
It was then of course I also felt the weight of the blankets on my...
breasts. Looking down, I saw them, large, D cup breasts... large... and
black. The voice came again...
"This is no dream, no fantasy. This is who you are now... physically.
Mentally... you are about to be prepared. You are now a young black
sister, to look at. You wouldn't like this lady at all. She's got
plenty you don't. Like passion, fire, and intensity. That's why she
shaved her head, and has only earrings now and then as concessions to
femininity. She has the fire..."
"What comes now..."
"Nothing really. You will do most of the work... without knowing it..."
There was a sudden wave of something flooding through my head... the
world became vague... then it was normal again. For a moment I was
going to say it hadn't worked when... I remembered.
I was lost, alone, in this black female form. Suffering attacks by
people men and women. Alone... always alone. Till he came. When all I
wanted to do was die, he came and took me, told me of life. He took me,
gently... shattered broken... slowly he began to heal me. Taking me arm
in arm, he finally got me to walk among people again. With him I began
to like my body again. I trained and worked at it. And in that time, my
heart slowly melted. He urged me to break loose from him but... it felt
so wrong. I called myself Carmel; I enjoyed doing things for him, and
doing stuff. I wanted him to be proud of me. I knew I was winning him.
That I wanted to be his lover... I soon realized. As he urged me to
embrace the culture my new body bound me to...and I did. I began trying
to get closer to him. I did. One wonderful night in his room. There was
no doubt in my mind. It felt so right. I was born to be his. We
were...gone.
I was on the bed looking and sobbing. I knew it couldn't be real. But
it felt so real. I could feel Juanito's arms holding me. His sex
entering mine... my lips on his ears... whispers of love...
"Who... are you?"
"Carmel. I am Carmel...you bastard!"
"Angry?"
"Raging! I loved him! Gods! I love him! I wanted to bear his children!
I still do!"
But the change was made. Though that was an illusion, the memory was
there. I would be true to it. To him. No longer a scared little boy,
from now on I said big words and lived up to them. I joined a local
community office and became one of its movers and shakers, at the same
time as studying. His words still rang in my ears, and I told people
round me, the vision of hope he gave me. I no longer just walked, I
strode. Even if he was an illusion, he was real for me. I had been
loved by an angel. I still wondered and wished that Juanito could be
real. But that couldn't bother me. I knew love and hope existed. And I
would embody it... as he did.
Maddie
- 18.09.2021
- 37
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