Indian Bride Examination and Skills Training Institute
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The Eintausch Institute free porn video
I had always wondered what it would be like to be another person; or more
specifically, what it would be like to be a female person. I can't say
that I wanted to live as a woman. I just wanted to try it out, see what
things are like on the other side. I have no doubt that I was not alone
in my curiosity. For most of human history, the idea has been nothing
more than fantasy. Had I been born in an earlier era, I would have lived
out my life without ever knowing.
The original Eintausch Institute had already been operating for several
years when I read about it in the Wall Street Journal. Theodorus
Eintausch was an engineer who had spent a long career designing equipment
which revolutionized the medical field, perhaps the best known of which
was the STI, a 3 dimensional imaging device which was fast replacing the
MRI.
Four years ago, he developed a piece of technology which would allow a
man and a woman to trade bodies, either temporarily, or, if the two so
desired, on a permanent basis. To capitalize on his creation, Eintausch
opened his eponymous Institute in Munich, Germany, charging a fee for
body-swapping 'vacations'.
Over time, other branches were opened throughout Europe. Recently, the
Journal reported, the Institute had opened their first location in the
US, in the city of Las Vegas, Nevada. Local business was brisk, but
client applications were being accepted nationwide.
I went to the Institute's website to learn more. In order to be accepted,
I would have to take a physical, undergo a criminal background check, and
provide a letter of character reference. Additionally, after submitting
the requisite paperwork, I had to agree to and sign a long list of terms
of service. Such precautions were deemed necessary to the peace of mind
of clients who would be allowing a stranger to take their body for a
stroll. Clients with additional concerns were advised to define a
contract with their swapping partners, setting ground rules, or a list of
"dos" and "don'ts".
Finally my paperwork cleared, and I was allowed into the member's area of
the website. It made me think of a dating service; one where physical
appearance was of primary importance. The way it works is that I first
had to create a profile; recent photographs are a mandatory requirement.
Then I looked for partners. I could find them by browsing through the
database at random, or I could do a search by physical characteristics.
When I found women who looked interesting I could 'select' them; they
then got to see my profile, and accept or decline a match. A couple of
days after I posted my information, a few women had 'selected' me and I
received links to their profiles in my inbox. That's how I discovered
Bianca.
She and I were a study in contrasts. I was just past 40, she was still in
her twenties. At 5' 2," she was a whole foot shorter than I. I was thin,
she was plump and curvy. Her hair was long, dark, and wavy, mine was
blonde, short, and straight. I had blue eyes and perfect vision; hers
were green behind cute glasses with square frames.
There was something about her, an undeniable je ne sais quoi, which
struck me when I looked through her pictures. Apparently she'd seen
something she liked about me, too. I accepted the match and sent her a
message.
The actual swap had to take place at the Eintausch Institute's facility,
so together we arranged an appointment in Vegas. Since it was the first
time for both of us, we chose the 24 hour transfer. Due to Institute
policy, we wouldn't actually meet until shortly before trading bodies,
but that was okay with us. We weren't in this to get to know one another.
Two weeks after my first contact with Bianca, I was on a plane to Sin
City.
I arrived in town the night before the appointment, took a cab to my
hotel, and checked into my room. I was almost too excited to sleep; I
woke up early and made it to the Institute Clinic an hour before
schedule. Signs directed me to the men's entrance; the women's entrance
was on the far side of the building. According to the literature, the
segregation of gender was all about maintaining mystery.
Checking in at the front desk, I sat down in the waiting room. I'd picked
up a brochure explaining various lesser-known features of the website
matching process (such as the random match button) and special programs
offered by the Institute (for example the drug abuse rehab swap or the
pregnancy vacation transfer). As I leafed through it, I kept half an eye
on the other clients, watching as they went to the back and then returned
twenty minutes or so later, looking slightly dazed and walking funny.
Soon it was my turn. "Franklin Hart?" a woman's voice called my name.
"Come with me please." She was a short, slim blonde wearing a white
uniform and holding a clipboard; she also had on a wireless headset with
a mic. "My name is Carol. I'll be your exchange facilitator today," she
said as she led me into a small room furnished with a chair, a toilet, a
shower a counter, and a mirror; there was another door on the far side.
Motioning me into the chair, she leaned back against the counter and
looked through the papers on her clipboard. "You've made an appointment
to exchange with Bianca Smith. Is that right?" I answered in the
affirmative. "You and Bianca have a pre-exchange agreement: no sharing of
personal information or money." She produced a plastic bag, "Place your
wallet and cell phone in here; they will be kept safe for you and
returned when the transfer term is up. Now, as you should know from
reading our terms of service, the transfer process requires you to have
vaginal intercourse with your exchange partner. The transfer occurs in
the moment when either partner achieves orgasm. I am required to obtain
your verbal consent to this process before we may proceed. Do you
consent?"
I must have skimmed through the terms of service less thoroughly than I
thought, because I couldn't remember any mention of that, but I thought
Bianca was hot, so what the hell. "I do," I said.
Carol checked a box on the paperwork, and then spoke quietly into her
headset and listened for a reply. "We're all set," she said to me,
handing over a glass of bluish liquid which had been sitting on the
counter. "This contains a chemical which helps facilitate the transfer.
Drink it all, disrobe, and use the other door when you're ready. You have
the room for half an hour. I'll see you on the other side." With that,
she left through the door we'd entered, closing it behind her.
I raised the glass to my lips and took a swig. The liquid inside was
chalky, but had a pleasant minty taste; it burned a little going down. I
knocked back the rest of the contents and began untying my shoes. I
realized that Bianca must be somewhere on the other side of that door,
doing the same thing. It got me hard, just thinking about it. By the time
I was stepping out of my underwear, I was more aroused than I'd ever been
before.
I opened the door just a little and peeked around the corner. On the
other side was a dimly lit room with dark wallpaper, plush carpet and a
queen-sized bed. Along the wall opposite me was another door with a
pictogram of a woman on it. It opened suddenly, and Bianca was there in
all her naked glory. She saw me and advanced into the bedroom with a
smile on her face; the door to her changing room closed behind her. I
stepped into the room myself, feeling a little light-headed. My rock-hard
dick was radiating heat.
"You're taller than I expected," she said, her eyes fixed on my erection.
She sounded like Fran Drescher, and at that moment, I found even that to
be a turn-on. "Whatever they put in that drink, it's working. I'm so wet
right now."
"How do you want to...?"
"Doggy-style," she said, sliding onto the bed, "Hurry up and get over
here. I need that cock inside me." She got into position and wiggled her
wide, round ass at me.
I needed no further invitation. I bounded onto the bed behind her,
positioned the tip of my dick at the entrance of her dripping pussy and
plunged in. I grabbed her hips for leverage as I began thrusting.
Bianca gave out a low moan. I felt her clamp down on me and that was all
it took to send me over the top. "I'm cumming," I said, as I started to
blow my load.
In the next instant, I was on my hands and knees, pendulous breasts
swaying from my chest. My hips moved forward in a last thrust, and the
cock slipped out of my pussy.
"Oh my God, this is so weird," my voice said from behind me in Bianca's
accent.
I rolled over and turned to face him. He was gripping his still hard cock
in his hand, examining it.
"Careful," I said, "That thing looks like it's almost ready to blow."
Bianca's voice sounded a lot sexier when I spoke with it. I realized I
was still pretty turned on; looking at that dick was giving me ideas.
"Can we...do it again?" he asked, apparently thinking along the same
lines as me. "I didn't get off last time."
Before, I had fucked her; this time, we did something more along the
lines of making love. He was on top, nibbling on my neck and sucking my
nipples, making them hard, raising me to further heights of arousal. I
kissed his chest and ran my fingernails down his back. When he slid his
dick inside me, it was slow and gentle. After some trial and error, we
learned each other's part in the dance. When he came, I did, too.
We lay there for a while, entwined in each other's arms. Finally, I said,
"We're probably about out of time. We ought to get going."
Reluctantly he agreed, and rolled off me. "This was nice," he said, as he
slipped off the bed and went through the door with the male pictogram. I
lay there for a moment longer, until I felt something dripping down my
ass-crack; his cum.
"Ew," I said, and went through into the women's room to clean up. Now
that I was alone, my mind seemed clearer. I noticed things I hadn't
before; the counter in this changing room seemed taller than the other.
The empty glass sitting on it contained a pinkish residue. A dress, bra,
and panties were folded neatly on the seat of the chair; beside them were
a purse and a pair of glasses. A pair of open-toed shoes sat on the
floor.
Mindful of the time, I washed off but tried to keep my hair dry. After I
got out of the shower, I took stock of my borrowed body in the mirror. My
left breast was a little smaller than my right; my areolae were large and
pale pink, with rose-colored nipples that were much larger than I was
used to. I had wide hips and a pudgy belly with thick thighs and upper
arms. There was a thick bush between my legs. Not to everyone's taste, I
knew, but I was more than pleased. The feelings I'd had when looking at
Bianca's profile pictures were even stronger, now that I was seeing her
from this perspective.
I had pulled on the panties and was struggling with the bra when I heard
a knock at the door. "Ms. Hart? It's Carol. Your half hour is almost up.
Do you need some assistance?"
I let her in; after all, I didn't have anything she hadn't seen before. I
had to look up now, to look her in the eyes. She gave me a hand getting
hooked into the bra, and helped me straighten my hair after I'd pulled
the dress over my head. When I'd stepped into the shoes, she handed me a
phone, a credit card and an ID card. The name on them was Bianca Hart. I
put the items in my purse.
"The phone and ID are in case of emergencies," Carol explained, "That
credit card is for expenses. Any funds you don't use will be put back in
your account; if you need more, just call here and we'll take care of it.
Your 24 hours start now; be back here this time tomorrow. Do you have any
questions?"
"How does it work, the transfer; why is an orgasm required?"
"Dr. Eintausch says it's kind of like operating a computer remotely. When
you have an orgasm, your mind is susceptible to the transfer protocol.
Vaginal intercourse probably isn't strictly necessary, but it provides a
connection between the two bodies so you end up in the right place."
"Is sex required to switch back?"
"No, for the return to your own body, it just takes the click of a button
on our master computer. If your partner agrees, you can easily continue
your transfer. Most of this is covered in the Terms of Service. Is there
anything else you want to know?"
"No, I guess not. Thanks for everything, Carol," I said. Picking up the
purse and slinging it over my shoulder, I headed for the door.
"Don't forget your glasses," she said, sliding them on my face. "You'll
probably need them."
I'd tell you what happened over the next day, but that's a whole other
story. Besides, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Suffice it to say
I spent a lot of money and had a very interesting time.
I was a little hung-over when I showed back up at the clinic in the
morning. I'd never even made it back to Bianca's hotel room. I arrived a
few minutes early, hoping to talk Franklin into extending our time as
each other for a little while longer. There were some things I'd wanted
to experience but hadn't gotten around to. Perhaps I should have been
careful what I wished for.
I'd been sitting in the waiting room for over an hour when Carol came to
see me, a look of concern on her face. "Bianca? I must ask you, what is
your mother's maiden name?"
"Stevens," I told her. That was my security question, only to be asked if
there was some need to verify my true identity. "What's going on?"
"I'm afraid I have some bad news," she continued. "Our office was just
notified that a man identified as Franklin Smith has been pronounced dead
at Desert Springs Hospital."
"What happened?"
"He was struck by a car last night while crossing the street. He was
apparently quite intoxicated."
The news left me in a state of shock which still hadn't fully dissipated
three weeks later when I was asked to return to the clinic once more. In
the intervening time, the Institute had paid for my lodging while they
worked to update my legal status and get me some permanent ID.
When I arrived, I was ushered to an office on the second floor. Carol sat
beside me; on the other side of the desk was a middle-aged man with a
thick German accent, who introduced himself as Dr. Eintausch. "Frauline
Hart," he said, "My condolences for your loss. I'm here today to ask for
your help with my latest research project. We have a sample of Franklin's
DNA. With your permission, we would like to use it to create a new copy
of your old body. Given certain ethical concerns in the USA, this work
will take place in my facilities in Taiwan. We will transport you there
when the time comes. Unfortunately, it will be eighteen years before the
body is mature enough for you to transfer into it."
"I'll need some time to think about it," I told him.
I was excited by the idea, but at the same time, my head was spinning and
I felt nauseous. This wasn't entirely new. The last few days, I'd been
feeling ill; the clinic had run some tests to try and determine what was
wrong. Carol leaned over and whispered the answer in my ear. It might be
eighteen years before I could be back in the body of Franklin Hart, but
in the meantime, I had a piece of him growing inside of me.
The End
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Nanette
- 25.12.2020
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