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The lights flickering and dimming ever so slightly. I see perfectly fine even in pitch black, but I can tell. I’m affecting my surroundings somehow. I walk over to the window at the far end of the room. Fog. And thick clouds overhead. It can’t be me doing that, can it?I glance at a computer screen nearby for the time. It’s late. I should go see how quiet the halls have gotten. I’d like to avoid witnesses. And if the girls are sleeping in their room, I’ll have no issues at all. I grab my backpack and adjust my hood and COVID mask. Luckily both are perfectly normal around here. I duck my face away from a camera I noticed and step out into the hall. Silence. Maybe a TV playing softly from one room is all. I walk the hallway like a shadow. Almost every door is closed. I look in as I pass one of the only open ones. A chubby girl looks up from her laptop as I pass. I wave, and she nervously waves back. She has no idea how close to danger she is. No idea what the guy she waved to has done. She had motion. She realized she had never considered asking that her new body not include the ability for others to freeze her in place any longer. There was no robotic law requiring that of her, nor civil statutes any longer. But perhaps she'd miss that part of herself if it were gone. It remained a good safety measure, and certainly wasn't hampering her now. Maybe someone else had removed it.Darlene held her hand in her field of vision, admiring her long slender fingers, immaculately manicured red nails, and much more realistic skin. She flexed each finger individually, gauging its range of motion, before opening and closing her entire hand twice. The differences in her control were slight, but noticeable. Her new hand was trimmer, stronger, and operated much more smoothly.Already half aroused by the powerful sensations being received through her new, finer resolution skin, this exercise of uncommanded self-will pushed her arousal up another notch. Darlene liked being able to.
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There should be no more pain. Let’s have some lemonade until you feel better. I’ll take the towel away in a minute. Ann, don’t move for a while. Davy, get the pitcher of lemonade from refrigerator.” Before following the instructions I get Ann some tissues for her tears. After we savor the lemonade, Aunt Helen goes to the bathroom and returns giving me a nice frontal view with her rolling breasts. My prick stirs. She is carrying a bar of soap and a damp white washcloth. She applies some soap to the cloth and cleans the inside of Ann’s thighs and then the inside of her pelvis. She inserts the washcloth into Sis’ cervix and removes some mucus and a little blood. She removes the towel from under Ann and takes it and the washcloth to the bathroom. Seeing the exaggerated swing my aunt’s ass it is only now years later that I realize it was for my benefit. Even though I did not know then that men do such things to women, it was my instinct to impale her anus with my organ but, of course,.

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