Recursion A.2.

RECURSION

A.2.

Oliver sheepishly steps into the clinic waiting room. He glances around and nobody is there except for some expired magazines. He isn’t sure why he’s so embarrassed, lots of men do it. It just feels vain, or maybe like a failure of discipline, surrender. He runs a hand through slightly balding hair and pats his round belly. Well, he’d tried the hook, now it was time for the crook.

“Mr. Fletcher?” There’s a nurse, a beautiful one, and oddly familiar. She has honey blonde hair tucked up in a little white cap, friendly blue eyes that promise mischief, and an oval face with generous lips and cheeks just barely marked by smile lines. She’s wearing a white nurses dress, immodestly unbuttoned at the neckline to show cleavage and a hint of red bra. The uniform’s skirt is rather short too, showing off slender legs wrapped in fishnet stockings and feet shod in impractical high heels. “I’m Nurse Josephine, and I’ll be managing your procedure today.” 

Oliver squirms a little, this was rather a bit like an old fantasy of his, but that was entirely inappropriate for the circumstances. He blushes and clears his throat, “Um, yes?”

“This way please.” Josie beckons Mr. Fletcher to follow her and studies him discreetly. He is cute in a schlubby sort of way, like a lot of men who came to the clinic. A little too chubby and a little too old, feeling the pressure to get a medical fix for their health, mind, nothing cosmetic about it. Boring! Josie thought this one at least had nice eyes.

Oliver follows Nurse Josephine through a security door into an examination room occupied by a white plastic apparatus, something like a high-tech clamshell sarcophagus. “You’ll need to remove your clothing,” the nurse says primly.

Oliver blushes again, feels a stirring in his cock that absolutely would not do. He thinks of cricket statistics and tries to cross his eyes, erection differed, and dutifully removes his clothes. He feels a bit embarrassed that such a beautiful woman has to see his bulky old form, but takes solace that she’s no doubt seen it all before, and probably much worse, and anyway in a moment he’ll be much easier on the eyes. The Apparatus telescopes open, revealing a saddle-like depression for a human. “Please climb inside,” the nurse says, voice pleasantly commanding.

Josie keeps her face professional, but yes, does indeed look over Mr. Fletcher. Not bad, she thinks, but not incredible either. She watches him awkwardly climb into the Apparatus saddle, decides he’s aboard well enough, and triggers the machine to close. Apparatus shuts, like origami construct, sealing man within. Josie hums to herself, opens the linked computer, and checks Mr. Fletcher’s command instructions file. She rolls her eyes, just another man seeking the Adonis Package: lower body fat, more muscle mass, the chiseled physique of a decathlete, taller body, more hair, a bigger cock. Just another Ken doll with a dildo.

Josie commands the Apparatus to boot up, loads the Command Program, and feels the imp of the perverse on her shoulder, the sudden urge to jump into the abyss. She smirks, glances around, and starts to change the command settings into something much more fun…

Josie’s heart is racing and she can taste the metallic tang of adrenaline in her mouth; this is such a marvelously bad idea!

Malpractice!

Absolutely grounds to be sacked!

But…

She hits Engage anyway…

Inside the Apparatus Oliver shivers impatiently, nervous and a bit claustrophobic. When will the machine activate? What will it feel like? Will it hurt? What if something goes horribly wrong? He starts to feel the sharp edge of panic when the machine hums to life like a printer: fans, warm air, servos, a sharp hypodermic prick or two, and then fuzziness… a blank absence of self… lost time… and then fuzziness again, waking muzzle, morning grog, and then a hiss and clamp as the Apparatus clamshell splits. Winged panels open, revealing clinic glare, fresh freedom given.

Oliver stumbles out of the saddle, flesh warm and soft like a blush, unsteady. He feels strange, light and weirdly buoyant… bouncy? His arm brushes something unexpectedly warm and soft and sensitive. He looks down and…

Tits?

He has tits?

He reaches up and slender beautiful hands follow his directions to fondle these unexpected breasts attached to his chest. He gasps, surprised at the alien sensation of hands sinking into the pleasurable soft dough of his own tits. He feels his nipples tingle and harden, ache in a newly acute way. Long red hair falls into his vision. He moans, whorish and womanly. His cock is painfully hard…

Oliver finds himself in the mirror and gasps: a beautiful read-headed woman caressing huge tits and sporting a menacingly large erection. He boggles at himself… herself? Something inside shivers and sparkles. Yes, herself. She has long messy red-gold hair, more gingery orange than foxy russet. Oliver, no… Ollie’s green eyes are vibrant and huge, set in a wide cheekboned face splashed with freckles. Her pouty lips are open in sexy surprise. Her arms are slender and graceful, willowy, and when she holds them outstretched her new breasts fetchingly drop, perfect teardrops with prominent dark nipples and wide aureola, too large for her narrow frame. Her torso is lean and faintly muscular, toned, and her legs are long and shapely like they belong to a chorus line dancer. She effortlessly stands on her tiptoes and twists, sees she has a tautly round athletic ass. Between her legs she still has a penis, an erect circumcised beast, longer and wider, huge on her new body. She touches it and moans, aroused beyond all reason. “Is this real?” Ollie asks, nervous that it’s only an anesthetic dream. “How did this happen?”

“I don’t know Mr Fletcher,” Josie lies huskily. Her heart is racing at the risk she’s taken, the professional danger, the possible criminality. “There must have been some mistake!”

Ollie looks at the nurse, notices her red bra and matching panties are discarded on the floor, that her nurses uniform is unbuttoned to her navel. She can see Josephine’s aroused nipples through her dress. Was she turned on? “I don’t understand,” Ollie says, still surprised by her musical feminine voice.

“Please!” Josie says, feigning panic. “Don’t be mad! They’ll fire me for this!” She runs fingers through her blonde hair and licks her lips, “There must be something I can do to make it up to you?”

“Uh?” Ollie blushes, unsure of where this is going.

And then somehow Nurse Josie is on her fishnet knees, and Ollie’s huge cock is in her warm mouth, girth stretching Josie’s lips into a taut circle. Josie gags on this huge cock she’s made, runs her tongue over it’s straining glans, tastes bitter precum. Ollie gasps, reaches down, parts breasts to see her nurse sucking and licking her cock, moans at the unaccustomed pleasure of hands on her tits, and starts to grope herself, to massage and knead her tits while her cock is being sucked. Josie grabs Ollie’s pillowy ass, relaxes her throat, inhales the cock as deeply as it will go, choking herself on dick, before sliding off of it, “Come on Ms. Fletcher…”

Ollie shivers at that: Ms. Fletcher. Her body is a symphony of pleasure and arousal, her cock aches with need. “Wh-what?”

Josie grabs Ollie’s hand, pulls her over to the hospital bed, climbs aboard, and uses the hydraulics to raise the back into a semi-seated position. She opens the front of her dress and lets her pert breasts spill out, lifts the hem to reveal her hairless cunt, glistening wet and engorged. “Fuck me,” she commands.

“Ohhhh…” Ollie says, climbing onto the bed, climbing onto Nurse Josie, her big naked breasts falling forward, her painfully hard cock pulsing. Josie grabs Ollie by her long red hair, pulls her into a fierce and hungry kiss, then reaches between them and guides Ollie’s cock into pussy. Josie grunts, gasps, mewls as Ollie firmly pushes her huge phallus into her body, stretching her, filling her. Josie pants and grins: this is so much more fun than a Ken doll. Ollie starts to thrust, slowly at first, worries about hurting the smaller woman. Ollie’s tits are in Josie’s face and Josie starts to play with them, kiss them, bite them, suck on a nipple, and Ollie gasps at the shocking electric pleasure of it, fucks her nurse faster, harder, gets carried away. The two women thrash together, colliding and moaning, faster and faster and faster, until Josie whimpers and clutches Ollie, crushes their breasts together, and orgasms just as Ollie comes with a guttural groan, cock erupting in a rushing torrent into Josie. They collapse together, a sweaty gasping giddy feminine pile.

“I’m Josie,” The nurse says, with an impish grin.

“Call… call me Ollie,” her patient says with a blush.

They hear the doorknob to the procedure room rattle. Someone’s trying to get in! 

“Oh fuck!” Josie says, “We have to hide!” 

She pushes Ollie off her, drags her across the room, opens the little connected bathroom door...

They step through the door>>>