Preferred Partners - Part Three

"Are you here for..." comes the faint voice of the receptionist, her words dropping to an inaudible whisper as the second machine begins to whir to life beside me.

"Speak of the devil" Dr. Jacobs coos, wiping another bout of sweat from her face as she preemptively begins to get the second machine ready.

I stare ahead of me, unable to move as my gaze fixates on the doorway leading into the tiny room I was trapped inside. Despite the blurring of my vision I watch as someone paces through the doorway, a gasp escaping their lips as they spot me.

Slowly but surely they approach me, the image of their face slowly coming into view. Before long, I find myself staring up at the visage of my older cousin's wife He-Yoon.

The slender and alabaster skinned woman in her early thirties daintily minces her way into the room, her hands clutched together nervously over her enormous chest. It had always been her defining feature, the downright massive jiggling mounds wrapped tightly inside her clingy sweaters always managing to draw the eye.

Today was no different, her white turtle-neck sweater appearing almost painted on as it hugs her shelf-like bust and tight narrow waist. A small gold chain hangs from her neck, a small platinum rings rests on her nearby finger inlaid with a small blue gemstone.

She jumps a little at the sight of my frozen form, her massive chest roiling like a sea of overly generous flab. Her narrow yet enticing hips rock as she approaches,, sensually swaying in an alluring manner as she approaches to investigate.

"Oh..." she mutters under her breath, her extremely thick Korean accent clinging to her voice. "I was hoping I'd be the..." she sighs, obviously disappointed to see her male partner sitting in the machine.

As she continues to grow nearer her slender legs and soft thighs soon begin to fill my vision, her lower half wrapped tightly in a pair of crisp and clean black pants, my head locked in place and unable to adjust to look up at her face. Standing just outside the machine she bends down, letting out a pained groan as her enormous tits hang heavily and dig her bra straps into her shoulders.

Her demure face stares at my slack-jawed expression, her brown almond-shaped eyes studying me intensely. Something burns behind those muddy brown motes as they look me over, a frustration and disappointment that I can't seem to find and answer to.

"So..." she mutters quietly, flashing a weak smile. "I guess we got paired up..." He-Yoon continues, biting at her lower lip in frustration.

I gargle slightly in response, unable to speak through whatever grip the device had over me. She seems to smirk in response, taking some not so slight pleasure from my powerlessness. Leaning further in she begins to whisper, her voice shaky and fragile like the top-heavy porcelain doll my cousin and those around her saw her as.

"Paul doesn't know..." she whispers meekly, seemingly worried about what her husband would think or do had he known. "I guess... I guess I'll be your..." she murmurs, pausing for a moment to fight back a sickened scowl. "Girlfriend" she finally manages to blurt out, deflating with a large sigh.

Despite her frustrated words her body language remains overtly meek and submissive, the disconnect between her inner thoughts and outward expression just not matching up. Whenever she had come to family events after Paul brought her home she had always seemed to sweet, an overly meek and submissive woman who was no doubt going to make a happy little homemaker and mother some day.

She perks up for a second, catching the movements of Dr. Jacobs out of the corner of her eye. With a whimpering groan she forces herself to stand, her gaze still locked to me.

"Fine..." she sighs, obviously disappointed with something. "But... we will be talking about our expectations when..." she begins to mewl, the fire burning behind her eyes failing to meet the soft spoken nature in her voice.

She looks away mid-sentence, nodding along as Dr. Jacobs speaks to her. With a sag in her shoulders she shuffles off, not even saying goodbye before slipping out of view.

"At least I won't have... these..." He-Yoon whimpers, her statement only really being able to refer to two bulbous things.

Try as I might I find myself unable to free myself from the mental grip of the machine, the sound of my He-Yoon slipping into the pod beside me causing me to try and flee before we get stuck for at least the next month.

Despite the horrifying heat surrounding me my blood runs cold, thoughts of what the next month may hold for the two of us leaving the pit of my stomach sinking further by the second. Oddly enough, as the humming builds in power around me I feel the sinking sensation grow worse than I had ever felt before. It is almost unimaginably so, the sensation being akin to my stomach falling out of me and through the floor.

Soon the rest of my sensations follow suit, my arms and legs drifting away from me as something begins to pull and stretch my senses into some other worldly and unseen space. My vision soon begins to draw back ,the blurred sight of the ajar door straining until it turns to a mere spec on a terrifyingly dark horizon.

Suddenly, everything snaps back in a sickening rush. In an instant I feel my body return to me, albeit still in a numbed and locked up state. My vision, while still blurred, is filled with the hazy vision of a new room.

The door still sits across from me, likely still just needing as much space as possible from the large and heat belching machines. However, a shimmering object appears attached to the light wooden object. The walls around me look a sightly different color, closer to a cream than the white room I had been inside mere moments ago.

As the ephemeral force gripping my mind forces me to steady my breathing I feel an odd weight on my chest rise and fall with each shallow involuntary gasp, my locked heart rate betraying the panic building inside me.

Slowly but surely the vibrating inside my skull begins to die down, my vision slowly returning as the rattling of my eyeballs begins to ease up. Still, I struggle to move, barely managing to flex a finger at the best of times.

 

Slowly but sure I find myself staring across the room as the sound of foots steps pace around the room beyond my sight.

With my gaze forced to stare straight ahead I slowly find an image forming in the mirror, a pain croak escaping my lips as I find myself staring at a...