Synchronicity
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Adaptive-Synchronicity free porn video
3:00 p.m. Tuesday
I don't know who will listen to this, or if anyone ever will. Still I
thought it would be interesting if there were some record of my
transformation. My name is Leonard Thomas and I have an adaptive-
synchronicity factor.
Don't know what that is. I'll get to that eventually.
Have you heard of shape-shifters; people who can change there appearance
at will. Imagine what an amazing feat this is. First if you're not
looking in a mirror how would you know who you are transforming into.
You must keep your physical features in proper proportions. Humans are
fickle creatures if say one eye is a millimetre farther from the bridge
of the nose then another, we may not realize this consciously but to our
subconscious that face will become unattractive. Think it's not a big
deal; try drawing an attractive human figure. Even for a professional
artist it's not as easy as it seems. Now imagine your body is the
palette and you can't even watch as you work.
Furthermore, suppose you change the size of one part of your anatomy but
forget another. For instance, bones growing but not the skin. It would
make quite a mess.
So it may sound like shape-shifting is impossible. However there are
ways around this. There's genetic manipulation or being transformed by
more highly evolved beings, or there's adaptive-synchronicity.
All matter is made up of atoms. An atom is nucleus surrounded by
electrons. What most people don't realize is that these electrons can be
miles away >from the actual nucleus they orbit. Essentially we're all
caught in each others aura of electrical energy. Moving currents induce
magnetic fields, vice versa, north attracts south, positive attracts
negative, vector directions play a big part, and beyond that it gets a
little complicated.
Moreover the mind actually works by inducing electrical charges between
itself and the nervous system. So in a similar manner we are trapped
inside one another's thoughts and emotions.
Now let's take this even further. Suppose the attraction or repulsion
between a man and a woman is literally an attraction between their two
auras. Then perhaps rather than changing as a conscious act the shape-
shifter will read a persons aura and make adaptations to maximize there
compatibility. That is adaptive-synchronicity.
Case in point, as a shape-shifter I change identities quite often.
Whatever my original form was I've long lost the frequency to return to
it. When it's a small matter to change yourself you always wish
something was different, and so I get bored with whatever form I am in.
Still it would be so much easier if shape-shifting worked the way it did
in fiction. With adaptive-synchronicity it is the subconscious choice
of my target what I become, and not my own. So I must research my
targets and choose them carefully.
I've done this for many years but for the first time I intend to
document my transition from one identity to another.
4:10 p.m. Tuesday.
I'm in a coffee shop. Sitting across the room is Kimberly Anne
Crawford, known as Kimmy to her friends. She is wearing the uniform of
her private school. A yellow coat and red fuku style scarf. She sits
with three girls drinking hot cider and chatting. Her hair is long
auburn. She has hazel eyes and peaches and cream skin.
I've seen her in this shop several times before. Yet just recently did
I learn she is inheritor to the entire Crawford fortune, yet merely a
girl of eighteen, with no family and no current boyfriend.
These girls are all the same; lost and alone, looking for some prince to
relieve them of there worldly woes. No confidence, no self esteem. Her
ideal mate will obviously have all the power in a relationship. She's
perfect. I'll become her dream hunk, and she'll hand over her kingdom.
I walk up to her, and tap her on the shoulder.
"Hi, you're Kimmy Crawford, correct." I hold out a hand and she meekly
shakes it. We both feel a slight tingle as I capture her frequency.
The transformation has begun. I offer some lame excuse for why I
introduced myself. She's not interested and I'm not ready so I leave.
Next time we meet I'm sure she'll find me absolutely captivating.
7:00 a.m. Wednesday
I wake up in the studio apartment where I currently reside. Having had
several wives under different identities, I've learned to keep safe
houses scattered throughout town. This place is rather plain. I never
bothered to decorate it. After all I'll be living with Kimmy within the
week.
I look in the mirror. No change as yet. My body must be preparing for
a big transition. Otherwise something would have happened by now.
I weigh myself. I've lost a few pounds. Odd I expected to put on some
muscle. I get ready to shave but find there is no stubble on my face.
Oh well, one quick shower and I'm out.
5:00 p.m. Wednesday
I go to my favourite restaurant. I've been to this place in several
forms and always got roughly the same service, but today the clerk is
more curt than usual. I'm so surprised by this that I'm halfway through
the meal before I realize I've ordered nothing but salad and spring
water. No meat and I never order spring water. It's a scam. Waters
free from the tap and, contrary to popular belief tap water is usually
the better quality drink. Still this is all forgotten after a trip to
the washroom. I look in the mirror and see why the clerk treated me
differently. My skin is dark. Not black, but dark; darker than an
Asian girls olive skin, yet lighter than that of a native girl. It's
odd but I can't seem to place the exact tone. It seems to be an
intermediate between several races and mixes that doesn't actually occur
to my knowledge. Moreover, it's so soft and the complexion is perfect.
Was that clerk offended by my undetermined race or simply put off by the
oddity of seeing such skin on a? on a man. Maybe Kimmy goes for the
tall dark and mysterious type.
5:40 p.m. Wednesday
As I walk home, I notice my pants are a little tight.
I pass by the windows of a boutique, thinking I'll probably need to buy
some new clothes soon. This is an important step. Frivolous teenage
girls like Kimmy respond quite a bit to fashion. Even the body of her
dream hunk won't get noticed if it's not dressed appropriately. Of
course I shouldn't buy clothes until I know my new sizes but I can still
window shop.
An interesting aspect of my transformation is that my tastes change to
be compatible with those of my target. It's a bit disconcerting to find
your grooming habits, hobbies, interests, sexual desires, are suddenly
different. Still it's just part of the lifestyle. That which does not
adapt will only stagnate. I've lived for over a hundred years by
constantly changing. Besides I never stray to far from the same type of
target. They're all rich young girls, debutantes that have been treated
like dolls since birth. I make sure they've never been independent and
still want a prince more than a partner.
I pass several stores with little interest then stop on a particular
window display. It's a lingerie store. I think about how panty hose
will look and feel on long smooth sexy legs. I'd of course need a mini
skirt to properly show them off and?
What am I thinking? Something is weird here. I should just abandon
this transformation. Of course I can't turn it off once it's started.
Damn I'll have to find one of my backup targets and try a different
transformation.
7:15 p.m. Wednesday
I went to the home of Penelope Spawlding, another debutante and a part
time model. She's had boyfriends before so I have a better idea what
synching with her will turn me into.
Something's wrong. My changes have been to fast. My hair has grown
seven inches on the way here.
I ask myself how I will get in. If I don't touch her I can't synch up.
I'll try ringing the bell. I'll probably just get some servant on the
intercom, but it's better than nothing.
7:20 p.m. Wednesday
I can't believe it. Penelope opened the door herself. "Hi" she says
and shakes my hand. We feel the tingle pass between us as I synch up.
"Hi, thank-you," I say then leave allowing her to wonder what the heck I
was doing there to begin with. Yes, soon this strange transformation
will stop and a more comfortable one will occur.
I don't know what strange fetishes Kimmy has, but she can keep them. By
next week I will be sipping champagne in Barbados with Penelope.
I feel some unusual cramps. It must be something I ate.
12:00 a.m. Thursday
No change. I don't know why, but touching Penelope hasn't changed a
thing. I'm still synched with Kimmy. I don't know how I know, but I'm
sure of it.
1:17 a.m. Thursday
I couldn't sleep. I groaned in pain as my insides twisted and reshaped,
not only changing size and shape as I'm used to but structure as well.
My ribs broke and reformed, only one short. I felt stiffness in my
member, which receded and became a wet empty feeling between my legs. I
screamed in pain only to find that the screams were sensual and high
pitched. My Adams apple had long receded into my throat. I think it's
finally over now. I look at myself in the mirror and see a woman.
She's a knockout, a total babe. Dark skin, hazel eyes, long silky green
hair.
I reached up to touch a breast and something squirted out. They're
filled with milk.
Knock Knock.
I hear the door.
It's Kimmy Crawford.
I will leave the tape recorder running and answer.
"Hi, I sensed you were done changing and thought I'd come over."
"What did you do to me?"
"What's that in the hall? Why is there a baby here?"
"You're probably wondering what's going on. You see I'm an esper. I
can manipulate auras. This here is my little sister Lina. You see
psychic children are really hard to find sitters for. What with how
they can move stuff with there minds whenever they have a tantrum. Our
parents died so suddenly and because of the creepy psychic stuff they
were going to kick Lily out of my schools daycare. We've already gone
through three nannies and I wasn't sure what to do. Then you came
along."
"Potential mates aren't the only ones a person's aura can synch well
with. They also have a tremendous bond with their mothers. I tinkered
with your aura slightly so you would tap into the mother bond instead of
the boyfriend bond. That bond is unbreakable by the way so there's no
point trying to transform again"
"You turned me into a clone of her dead mother."
"Not a clone, just a kindred spirit. And when I'm done brainwashing
you, you'll be the perfect sitter, wet nurse, and maid for our house.
Why not start now. Lina could use a feeding."
END OF TAPE.
Fay
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