The Program Chapter Three free porn video
28th July 2010
The date...well, yuck is the word. It's not that my new boyfriend Charles
is ugly or obnoxious or full of himself, and if I were a girl I would be
happy to have a boyfriend like him. It's just that, well, I'm not a girl.
He had brown eyes, short brown hair and was well dressed, and as soon as
he saw me he hugged me and planted big warm kisses on my cheeks and my
lipsticked lips that I longed to wipe away but didn't dare to. He took me
to a burger bar...at least the food was good, and we also shared a long
hot dog that we bit down on and ate until our lips met. Then he took me
to see a movie and insisted on cuddling with me and playing tonsil hockey
with me in the cinema.
Yuck. There was nothing I could do about it; I had to feel his tongue
rubbing against mine whilst he ran his hands over my body and my fake
breasts. At least he didn't grab at my crotch or he would have discovered
the truth and when my new mother found out she would probably have
exploded my collar. And yet I can't be too angry with him as it's not
really his fault. To him I really am Eleanor, the girl of his dreams.
I had to pretend all the time that I loved him out of fear of what that
horrible collar might do to me. As you can imagine, I was very happy when
the date ended and he kissed me goodbye and left.
Now, back to when I ended up in this mess...
On the way back to the mainland I asked my new mother "Why me? There were
two girls taking part as well, I'm sure either one of them would have
volunteered to take your daughter's place, and being genuine girls would
be a lot better at it as well."
She shook her head. "First, their height and builds were wrong. One was a
foot taller then my daughter and there is no way that I could put it down
to a sudden growth spurt. The other was several inches shorter and so fat
that my husband would think that she was three months pregnant and there
would be a blazing row and the truth would end up coming out. Second,
they were there because their father had tried to harm the state in a big
way, which is all you needed to know, and a high ranking Government
Minister wanted them to die and to see the dead bodies. Your height and
build and eye colour were just right, all you needed was to be disguised
well enough."
I shrugged and successfully fought the urge to wipe my lips for what felt
like the twentieth time.
"Remember your cover story, you were hit by a hit and run driver hard
enough to put you in hospital for a few days, but you're fine now. If you
accidentally forget something you should know about it, the cover story
will do its job."
When we got back to the mainland we transferred to a limousine and I sat
in the back on the leather seats fingering my bracelets and my amber
necklace and thinking, and my thoughts went something along the lines of;
Whoever this Eleanor is, judging by her jewellery and accessories she is
rich. Maybe it's not so bad being her-at least if I can let my parents
know that I'm still alive, just so that they don't have to mourn my
death.
Then I felt my stomach churning at the thought of my new boyfriend.
He's going to want to kiss me and cuddle me and tell me how much he loves
me and I'm going to have to pretend that I truly love him back. Not that
I'm a homophobe, but he and I are both male although he won't know that.
And it won't be fair on him either; he would be sickened if he knew who I
really am. What if he gropes me down there and finds out? She's going to
make me go all the way, isn't she? She's going to have them
surgically...cut off. I'm going to say goodbye to my two best friends
forever. Who will make my decisions for me? Why am I thinking of stupid
jokes at a time like this?
We arrived at her house and a set of gates rattled open. I marvelled at
the house and it's grounds and then she told me to wait for a couple of
minutes and then come inside. I did so and came face to face with a large
and somewhat plump man in a suit who I recognised as my new father. He
hugged me and kissed my cheek. "Your mother told me what happened. You'll
be glad to know that the one who did it to you was found by the police
and executed."
I nodded and smiled. "Oh yes. Can I go to my bedroom?"
"Of course, you don't need to ask."
I ran up to my new bedroom and looked it over, and wrinkled my nose in
disgust. It was pink. A pink carpet, pink wallpaper, a bed with a pink
cover. Boyband pictures upon the walls along with a large portrait of my
boyfriend Charles and what I suspected was a small obligatory picture of
the Prime Minister that had to be displayed in houses like this to show
political loyalty. A make up table with several draws, a pink diary in
which I am writing this and a cellphone. A cellphone! I could telephone
my parents and tell them that I was alive. It might take some doing but I
could tell them something only they and I would know. I dialled the
number of their house. Halfway through there was a soft buzzing from the
collar and I dropped the phone and fell on my knees in agony as the
collar shocked my neck for several seconds.
Clearly, it would not be that easy. I swore that I would get payback
somehow as soon as I found a way to get the dammed collar off my neck. I
considered sneaking outside and running as far away as I could get, but I
decided with the collar on that would not be an option. Who could I tell?
My *father* ? Too risky, with an explosive in the collar ready to tear my
throat open when my so-called mother set it off. The police? Maybe they
could find a way to get it off me before my new mother could find out
about my defection and explode my neck.
No. What could I tell them, that I had been rescued from the Battle
Royale Program? If they believed me they would either shoot me on the
spot, throw me into prison or put me back into the hell that I had
escaped from. If they didn't believe me I would either end up wearing a
nice white straitjacket in an asylum or they would hand me back to my
*mother*. And I had to admit that it was too risky to tell my *boyfriend*
or any of Eleanor's girlfriends who I really was. For now I would just
have to be Eleanor for as long as it took to get out of here and enjoy
the good side of being her.
It's getting late, I will write more tomorrow.
Thomas McGhie, known to all as Eleanor Verney.
Grace
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