Memories Are Made Of This

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Memories are made of these

I was having a boring day off, so I decided to go to the mall for a bit. Nearing 40, and a single guy, you would think that I would be out looking for a good time, but for a number of reasons, I just preferred to stay home and watch movies.

So I was headed for my favourite movie store when I spotted a new store called “Memories are made of these”. At first glance, I thought it was maybe a nostalgia store, but peeking inside, it was laid out like a video store.

I went inside, and found row after row of what looked like unmarked DVD’s with headings above each row like “Sports”, “Social Occasions”, and “Dream Jobs”. It even had a section marked “Adults only” with titles like “My first time”, and “Honeymoon at Niagara Falls”

I went to the till, and asked the lady about the store, and she said “They are not DVD’s. They are memories. It’s a new process, by which we can capture the thoughts, feelings, and experiences of people. We also rent the machine that allows someone to access what we have recorded.”

“I don’t get it,” I said, “What do you mean, memories?” She went down and picked up a box in the “Sports” section that was marked “Championship game” and said, “Suppose you always wanted to know what it felt like to be the winning quarterback in a championship game.

Well, here it is. A quarterback has allowed us to copy his memory of his win, and its all here. Every down, every moment. Put on the device, and you would live through his experience as if you were him.” “The same with these others.,” she continued, pointing at various disks as she spoke, “Climbing Mount Everest, hang gliding, you name the activity, and its here. “

I then remembered hearing something about this recently, but at the time I had paid no attention to it. Then, I pointed to the “Adults Only” section, and asked “And these?”

She smiled, and said “They are not pornography, at least not as most people think of it. They are the intimate experiences of men and women during lovemaking, willingly shared with us.” I looked at some of the disks, and noticed that they either had a “M” or a “F” on them.

“Does the M and F stand for male and female?” I asked. “Yes,” she replied. “ For example, this one, ‘Honeymoon at Niagara Falls’ has two versions, one from the man’s perspective, and one from the woman’s.”

I started thinking about it. I decided to take two disks, one from the adults only section, called “Honeymoon at Niagara Falls”, and one called “My Prom Night”, and rented one of the machines, and went home to try them out.

Each came with a little description much like a movie synopsis, and I was soon reading them while setting up the equipment. It was surprisingly easy to get it organized, and soon I was sitting in a easy chair, like the recommendations suggested, and soon I was ready for the first memory, the one called “My Prom night. ”

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and activated the machine, and suddenly I wasn’t in my apartment anymore. I was in a room, looking in a mirror, and I saw I was a girl.

She had just put on her prom dress, and was admiring how she looked. I was a passenger, I couldn’t do anything, but I experienced everything she saw, heard, and felt.

She was excited, and more than a little aroused by the prospect of what she hoped was the last night of her childhood and the beginning of her womanhood. She remembered every detail of her preparation, from picking the dress, to getting made over, feeling like a pampered princess through it all.

She was checking her makeup when I could hear a doorbell ring. A older male voice was speaking to a young male voice, and she recognised both, her father, and her date for the evening.

She flew out of the room, and went downstairs to see him. He was staring at her as she came down the stairs, and she could tell he was staggered by her beauty, just as she was impressed by how good he looked in his rented tux. After a few embarrassing moments with her family, she and her date headed for the dance.

It was totally different perspective to dance backward in high heels, but she had obviously practiced. I could feel with her, as her happiness and sense of anticipation grew with each touch between her and her partner. When he kissed her, I felt her knees turn to jelly and the beginnings of a warmth below her waist.

After the dance, she and her man made their way out, and I wondered if they would consummate this relationship that night. She was tingling with anticipation, and I could tell the young man was quite aroused as well, judging by the bulge in the front of his pants.

But, instead he took her back home, and said to her “I had a wonderful time, and I have something to give you, and something to ask you.” He got a box out of his coat pocket and opened it, showing a beautiful ring.

He then got down on one knee and asked “Will you marry me?” I could feel her shock, and excitement, and she said “Yes!” and hugged and kissed him. The lights of the her porch went on, and soon her dad was at the door.

She showed him the ring, and soon the whole family was hugging and kissing and crying with happiness. Her dad slapped the back of her now fiancée and shook his hand, and said “Well son, congratulations. You have any idea how quickly this is going to happen?”

“Well sir, “ the young man said, “I will talk with my folks, and they will get together with you and get the ball rolling, if that’s ok.” He then led the girl back to the door, and stepped outside with her again.
“I will call you tomorrow, and we can get things going, Okay?” Still holding his hand, she looked at him and said “Okay” and kissed him again, and once again I felt her desire and love for this young man.

But then they parted, and she went back inside, feeling like she was floating rather than walking. She drifted up the stairs to her bedroom, and fell on her bed in total happiness, and then the disk ended.

I opened my eyes, and readjusted to being in my own body. “Wow” I thought. “That was unbelievable, it was so real!“ I hastily put in the next disk.

Closing my eyes, I reactivated the machine, and found myself . . .

In a room in a church, waiting to go down the aisle , and admiring my wedding dress. I had a flash of memory of all the planning, all the preparation, all the pampering it had taken to turn this woman I had become into the vision of loveliness I saw in the mirror.

The music started, and I left the room, and made my way to where I would make my entrance. An older man, who was obviously this woman’s father, took her arm, and we began the slow march down to the front where my groom waited.

Soon, vows were exchanged, as were rings and kisses, and we were displayed to the crowd of well-wishers as husband and wife. Then we had photos done, and then I found myself changing out of the dress into something easier to move around in for a dinner and dance.

Toasts were made, and I kissed my groom again and again to the cheers and applause of the guests. After the meal, we danced, first with each other, then with our parents, then with just about anybody who asked. It seemed like it took forever before we were together again, and heading for a limo.

It took us to a hotel, and with amazing strength, my groom picked me up, and carried me into the hotel room. Soon, we were undressing each other with a combination of shyness and eagerness.
We were caressing, touching, kissing each other. As a passenger in her body, I could only enjoy the experience without having any control over it. Soon, I was on my back, and he was about to enter me for the first time.

I had a moment of panic that it would hurt, but he was very gentle, and soon was lost in ecstasy.
Warmth went through me as I climaxed again and again under his attention, until we were both utterly exhausted.

I found myself unwilling to let his now soft organ go, and kept him inside of me until I fell asleep. The next morning, we dined on a heavy breakfast with a side of chocolate covered strawberries for desert, and soon we were making love again.

This time I slept under his arm, with my head next to his heart, listening to it beat, and knowing I would hear that rhythm every night of our lives together. I saw a future of pregnancies, good times and hard times, but always that heartbeat next to mine, and then the disk was finished.

I was back in my own home, in my own body, and I took off the connections to the machine, finding myself blinking back tears. I had wished my whole life to have those moments, having struggled with a desire to be a woman for as long as I could remember.

I had never acted on that need, for one reason or another, which really just boiled down to cowardice on my part. But, having had what had always been denied me, I realized I couldn’t hide from the truth.

It might take a long time, but I determined then I would do what was needed to bring my true self to reality. But that would be a task for another day, and I decided to enjoy these memories one more time, then get some rest. If I was to fulfill my vow, I would need all the strength I could get.

(Author's note: I am intending to make this an open universe. If anyone has a story that might fit here, let me know)

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Comments

Interesting idea

However I can see getting addicted to these second hand experiences. What an imagination you have!

Hugs!

Grover

Willam Gibson Girls

laika's picture

This was excellent, Dorothy! Some of the stories you post are quick sketches, nothing wrong with that, but I really enjoy the ones that are longer and fully developed, like this one and your series I WOKE. I've always loved stories about this technology, that goes by different names, ever since seeing the movie BRAINSTORM back in the 80's, and like a lot of MtF transgendered people must have done I immediately saw the potential for sharing secondhand the sensation and memories of a female (in the movie STRANGE DAYS, where it is available but not legal, a very nervous and embarrassed fellow goes to a dealer and samples a clip that lets him experience being 18 year old girl taking a shower, which he obviously luxuriates in, but then I think is scared off when the cops come by. I've got an outline for one somewhere in my notes, maybe I'll take a crack at it. People who liked this tale might want to look up WORKING DAY by Joannebarbarella, which is here at BCTS...
~~~hugs, Laika

Patent Pending

Dorothy,

I thing the first mention of an experience/emotion recording device was in the story "Patent Pending" by Arthur C. Clarke in his book "Tales From the White Hart" in 1954. A very good year, as that's when I was born.

You might want to read the story. It may give you insight/inspiration in the creation of your story universe.

Nice telling of the story. Thanks Dorothy!

Beth

There is also a story

Right here, Kristine Roland's "The Gift". I liked both her story and yours as well, Dorothy, so I think a new universe is not unwelcome to say the least! :)

Faraway


On rights of free advertisement:
Big Closet Top Shelf

Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

Faraway


On rights of free advertisement:
Big Closet Top Shelf

Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!

This story is a gem. It is

This story is a gem. It is highly imaginative and well written. Moreover, it is not the usual "I want to be a girl" genre that most authors pen. I admire your creativity. Thank you!

LIKE YOUR BIG SISTER

ALISON

'Drea,you continue to amaze me with these longer stories of yours.You are
going well, young lady.

ALISON

I missed this the first time

KristineRead's picture

I missed this the first time around, but thanks to your comment on "The Gift" tonight I went looking for it, and found a quite nice story.

Thanks for pointing it out to me! By the way, it was Faraway that sent you to check out my story in the comments above.

Hugs,

Kristy