=============================================================================
                        Mindnumbing Archive Repost
=============================================================================
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The curator of the MNA most likely did NOT write the story which follows.
Authors, when known, are acknowledged in the body of the file.  Assemble the
various parts of related messages, removing everything outside the [BEGIN]
[END] markers and you'll have the "complete" story.  See the MNA Index posted
to alt.sex.stories.d for chapter counts and synopses.  Note that the MNA
posting counts and authors' chapter counts are completely unrelated.
If you have similar materials, please repost them, too.
Comments, encouragement, and additional material for the archive gratefully
received; flames, repost requests, and e-mail requests rapidly dispatched to
the void.  There is no public archive of these stories that I know of; see
SOAPBOX above.  I will no longer acknowledge messages asking for one.
If you're an author in the MNA and you do not want your story reposted:
Contact me at ladd@cs.unc.edu and I will remove your story from the
reposting list.  If you're an author of an Unknown story and you want to
take credit for it, contact me as well, please.
[BEGIN]
                      CROSSED WIRES
"Chris, you're positively leering!" Donna scolded.
I tried to hide my guilty blush by turning all my attention to
checking the electrode contacts.  But it was too late, I'd been
caught.
"You're planning to grow yourself to 10 inches again!  You are!  I've
told I won't suck that thing if it's an inch above 8.  Aha!  You're
blushing.  I'm on to you!  You change the program right now, Chris, or
I swear I won't do the sim with you."
"But you won't mind how big I am during the sim," I protested.  "In
fact you'll love it."
"Of course I'll love it 'cause it's sim.  But I'll remember every
detail when I come out and it's the principal of the thing!"
Heaving an exaggerated sigh I slipped off my wrist electrodes and
turned to the console.  It had been worth a try, but I'd pushed my
luck too far the last time when I programmed the simulation to enlarge
my member to a unprecedented 12".  I'd even taken the precaution of
creating a doctored tape measure within the sim so that if she tried
to call me on the length I could conclusively demonstrate I was "only"
8.  But Donna had seen through that ploy and now was showing me she
meant business.
Putting on my most contrite expression I quickly called up the body
editor and reduced the cock length from 10" to 8 1/2".  She won't
notice that extra half inch, I reflected.
  Despite this small setback I had reason to be proud.  Over the past
few days I'd programmed this sim down to the minutest details.  When
activated the system would plunge Donna and myself into a virtual
world indistinguishable from the real one in all but two important
respects: we'd have the kind of bodies that one only sees in porn
flicks, and we'd be able to make use of those bodies in all sorts of
fun ways without tiring, getting sore, bruising each other, or
worrying about "consequences".
"You're gonna love it, Donna.  This is my best yet.  You won't forget
this one."  I gave her a lascivious wink.  "You'll need a PDA just to
keep track of your orgasm count!"
She grinned.  "Well, what are we waiting for?  Let's do it!"
One last check of the wrist electrodes.  Green leads for Donna, red
leads for myself.  The programmer always gets the red leads because
they carry the control lines.  I couldn't suppress another little grin
as I remembered the alternative names for the red and the green leads:
"master" and "slave".  I wondered whether Donna knew how appropriate
those names really were.  Did she appreciate exactly how much of my
programming effort was spent specifying exactly what emotional and
bodily sensations she'd feel during the course of the sim so that
she'd perform according to the exact script of my erotic fantasies?
Nothing left to do but hit the activator switch.  A slight buzzing at
the wrists, a momentary feeling of pressure and then...
Here it was, exactly as I'd designed it.  The sim had dropped us into
the interior of a beach house whose floor plan I'd shamelessly copied
from the October edition of the AIA journal.  Outside, a clear,
moonless night and the distant sound of breakers.  Inside, a rather
eccentric style of interior decoration.  Couches, futons, beanbag
chairs, hammocks, and pillows galore.  Anything and everything that
you ever might want to fuck in, on or under.  Not a table or hard
chair in sight.  (We weren't there to eat, after all.)  I glanced over
to the ladder that led to the sleeping loft.  Looked good. Unobtrusive
cabinets set in the walls here and there would open to reveal a
panoply of useful toys.  Mirrors, of course.  Not too many to be
vulgar, but enough.  I sniffed the faint salt breeze, ran my hands
over the rough surface of pine paneling.  I beamed in delight. Visual,
aural, olfactory and somatosensory channels were all working
perfectly.
I had programmed the simulation to delay initiating the body morph for
a few minutes.  Donna had materialized a few yards away from me and
was checking the place out, approvingly running her fingers over the
patterned silk upholstery of one of the sofas.  Her outline had a
slightly shimmery look as she moved around relative to the background,
but this would soon disappear as the sim's compensation routines
kicked in.  "Better get a good look around now, Donna," I thought to
myself, "because in a couple of minutes all your attention is going to
be taken up by something else entirely!"
The morph was beginning.  I could feel the vibration in my groin and
chest.  In some ways this was the part I enjoyed the most.  In a
moment my limbs would start to bulge with musculature.  My abdomen
would harden, my pecs would swell.  My stature would increase by an
inch, my complexion would become impeccable, my teeth would become
whiter than white and, of course...  Well, as you already know, the
crotch of my pants would bulge with the aforementioned
eight-and-a-half inches of man meat and a pair of balls that would do
a bull proud.  Goodbye Chris Welch, average guy.  Hello super-stud!
Wait.  This didn't feel quite right.  Was something wrong?  Instead of
the expected tightening at the crotch of my pants, things felt looser
somehow.  In fact there was this really bizarre shrinking sensation.
Not just in my groin, but like my whole body was getting smaller.  And
those twin swellings on my chest that were making my shirt bulge:
those weren't pectorals, those were...!  I swung around to stare at
the nearest mirror just as I realized what was happening.  I was
changing, my features melting with the rapidity of a bar of butter
caught in the microwave.  My chin receded, became delicate.  My
cheekbones became higher and more prominent and the ridge of my
eyebrows less so.  My nose shrank and assumed a pert upward turn at
the tip.  My lips swelled and reddened.  Long eyelashes swept upward
from limpid blue eyes.  Blonde tresses caressed my shoulders.
I was so caught up in the horror and fascination of what was happening
to my face that I almost missed the transformation of my body.
Recovering myself I found that the changes below the neck were the
match of those above.  Firm, heavy breasts bobbed above a slender
waist.  Flaring hips and long sexy legs.  My genitals?  I started to
reach downward for an inspection and then checked myself.  I could
guess what I would (wouldn't?) find.
The morph had finished with my body and was at work on my clothes.  My
flannel shirt took on a life of its own and squirmed snakelike across
my chest, transforming itself into a translucent violet teddy with a
neckline plunging to the navel and a hem that barely covered my ass.
Starting at the ankles and working upwards, my pants began to
evaporate, finally leaving a skimpy pair of filmy panties pulled tight
across my ass crack and my snatch.
I stared at my image in the mirror, the truth slowly sinking in.  The
transformation was complete.  I was the spitting image of Donna, or at
least Donna as she might appear in the wet dreams of a sex-starved 15
year old with a perpetual hard-on.  A steamy sex kitten with pouty
lips, and langorous heavy-lidded eyes.  A body that cried out to be
fucked hard.  In short, the body I had so carefully designed for my
partner!
"What in hell trick are you pulling, Chris?" thundered a deep bass
voice from behind me.  A strong hand grasped my shoulder from behind.
"Donna"! I thought as I whirled around, my tits bouncing around so
much that I almost lost balance.  Staring down at me with an
expression of shocked amusement was ... me.  Me on steroids and a
heavy exercise program.  Donna had the body that I was supposed to be
wearing.  Everything from the athlete's musculature to the full chest
of hair.  She wore nothing but a black g-string, whose fabric was
stretched to nearly the breaking point from the weight of its
contents.  With a height differential of nearly a foot, I had to crane
my head upward to look into Donna's/my face.  This was too
disconcerting, so I settled for looking into the hollow at the base of
her neck.
"This wasn't --" I broke off at hearing my new voice for the first
time.  Donna's voice, but pitched slightly higher and with an almost
imperceptible lisp that gave it a cutesy girlish effect.  I swallowed
once and continued.  "Donna, I didn't plan this.  Something must have
gone wrong with the sim.  We'll have to abort.
"Computer, abort sim."
Nothing happened.  I tried again in as authoritative a tone as my
little girl voice would allow.  "Computer, end sim immediately."
Still no response from the system.  Not the slightest hiccup in
continuity.  Donna gently but firmly took my head in her hands and
tilted my head so that I had to look her directly in the face.
Distractedly I found myself wondering if I hadn't made the chin cleft
too prominent.  "What's the matter," she asked in her deep masculine
voice, "can't you stop the sim?"
"The system doesn't seem to be responding to me.  The identity
recognition routines must have gotten scrambled somehow.  If I don't
have the control lines, you must.  You'll have to do it Donna.  Say
'computer, abort sim'."
She chuckled deep in her chest and slowly caressed my cheek.  "But you
promised me a sim that I wouldn't forget.  I intend to take you up on
your promise."
"Donna, you wouldn't," I whispered.  "You don't know how."
Again a chuckle.  "Then I'll just have to figure it out as we go
along, won't I, my little lovebird?"
Outwardly I moaned as a sudden wave of erotic desire washed over me.
Inwardly I cringed.  By saying "little lovebird" Donna had
inadvertently hit on one of the trigger phrases I had set up to
activate certain behavior programs.  Too late it occurred to me that
it might be a mistake to use our pet names as triggers.
But this was no time for regret.  I was in heat, my whole body aching
to be touched, taken.  I grasped Donna's hand and began to kiss and
lick the fingers, savoring the salty taste of her (his?) skin. Putting
a strong arm behind my back, she (he?) leaned down and kissed me
roughly.  Our lips met and parted, and her strong tongue explored my
mouth.  I felt like I was dissolving with pleasure.  Every square inch
of my skin tingled with delight.  And this was just the first kiss.
What would it be like to be mounted, I thought, to feel a penis push
its way into the deep recesses of my cunt?
"Don't think such things," I shouted inwardly.  "You're a man, not a
woman!"  But outwardly what I said was "Oh lover, you turn me on so
much!  Let's go find someplace comfortable."
"Whatever you want, kitten," my lover responded, triggering another
set of preprogrammed responses.  Donna picked me up, carrying my body
effortlessly in her (his?) arms.  She strode over to a double-size
beanbag chair and tossed me on to it.
This most recent trigger had made me acutely aware of my tits.
Settling myself into the chair I caressed the undersides of my boobs,
pushing them up and together in order to emphasize my cleavage.  With
a long red fingernail I rubbed a tense nipple through the delicate
fabric of my teddy while making sidelong glances at Donna.  "Do you
like my titties?" I lisped.
"Very impressive."  Donna lay down beside me and squeezed my left boob
with her sinewy hand.  I let out a gasp of pleasure as lightning
radiated outward from my nipple.  "Size DDD aren't they?"
I pouted.  "No sir.  Not more than a D.  I promise.  Oh, please keep
touching me there.  Don't stop."
Donna did stop, though, so that she could tug open the top of her
g-string and inspect the contents.  "I see.  Not more than a D.  And I
suppose this big piece of sausage is only 8 inches?"  She tore off the
flimsy fabric, revealing a rock hard erection.
In this woman's body I had no control over my expressions.  I blushed
a deep crimson from the roots of my hair down to my chest.  "Well, not
exactly.  But it's only a half inch ..."
Donna smiled and chucked me under the chin.  "Under the circumstances
I should be grateful.  Besides, you're the one who's going to have to
suck it,"  she fixed me with a sharp gaze and said deliberately  "my
little cocksucker."
I let out a sigh that was funny admixture of relief and sexual
frustration.  She hadn't hit on the right trigger that time.  My tits
were still at the center of my arousal.  I would have given her a boob
job in an instant, but the thought of oral sex didn't push my buttons
just yet.  I rubbed my nipples and imagined her thick cock slowly
working its way in and out between my cleavage.  I think I would have
come that way in a few minutes, but Donna had others things in mind.
"Don't you want to suck on me, my lovebird?" she asked.  Instantly my
attention was again focused on the man's body next to mine.  I rolled
over onto her, and gave her such a long and passionate french kiss
that it left me gasping.  With a casual movement, Donna pushed the
straps of my teddy off my shoulders so that my breasts came free, and
I gratefully rubbed them against her chest hair, feeling delicious
tingling sparks with every movement.  I covered Donna's lips with
numerous little kisses and bites, and then moved my mouth to the base
of her neck.  Moaning slightly, I ran my tongue back and forth in the
hollow.
Donna put one hand on each shoulder and pushed.  "I think it's time
for fellatio" she insisted.  I slid willingly about four inches, but
when I saw her male nipples peeking out from underneath the curly
chest hair I had the overwhelming desire to suckle.  I took her right
nipple between my lips and sucked and bit slightly.  I was immediately
rewarded by a taughtening of the little pink nipple and a
ill-suppressed groan of pleasure.  I giggled and continued suckling.
"Oh baby, that feels so good!" Donna cried out.  But now new desires
were surging through me.  "Baby" was the trigger word for oral sex.  I
straightened up, propping my arms on my lover's shoulders so that I
could look into her handsome face.  "I want to suck you so bad," I
said, licking my lips sluttishly.  "I want to take your cock meat into
my mouth and swallow it whole.  I want to feel your great big balls
bouncing against my chin and your great big cum fill up my mouth."
I felt so ashamed to hear these words come out of my mouth in that
inane little girl's voice.  There was nothing I could do.  I had
entered those words into the sim program several days before, and had
not coded them as optional.
What had I coded as optional?  Certainly not what happened next.  My
mind was filled with images of cock.  Big cocks, little cocks,
straight cocks, twisted cocks.  And for each cock I had only one
desire: suck on it deep and vigorously until it filled my mouth with
semen.  "Is this what it feels like to be gay?" I thought.  "Am I
going to be permanently changed by this?"
Moaning and giggling I kissed Donna's nipple goodbye.  I kissed her
rock-hard rectus abdominus muscles, flirtingly stuck my tongue into
her navel, and then planted butterfly kisses in a semicircle above and
to either side of her straining member.  I found the adductor muscles
on either side of the balls (the muscles of horse-riding and doggy
sex, came the distracting thought) and playfully bit them.  Then I
grabbed the cock by its base and examined it closely for the first
time.
It's hard to describe my feelings.  My real self is confirmedly
heterosexual.  I knew that being so close to a man's cock, so close
that I could smell its special scent, so close that I could feel its
radiating warmth on my face, should have filled me with shame and
revulsion.  But the sim programming was completely dominant.  Instead
of revulsion I felt admiration.  "Oh, it's sooooo big!" I exclaimed,
and I meant it.  I knew it was only 8 1/2 inches, but to my
beglamoured eyes it could easy have been 12.  And so thick around!  I
wasn't sure I'd even be able to get the thing past my lips but I was
sure as hell going to try.
I cupped Donna's balls with my left hand while swiveling the cock
closer to my mouth with my right.  The balls were so gigantic that I
couldn't hold them both comfortably in my petite hand.  I sent out an
experimental lick, just grazing the tip of the glans with the tip of
my tongue.  I looked up.  Donna was watching with fascination.  "Stop
me.  Stop the sim." I whispered hoarsely.
"But you love to do this, don't you?" she answered wickedly.
I couldn't reply.  I had begun to lick the cock like a little girl
tasting her first popsicle.  From base to tip, over and over again, my
moist tongue ran over the entire length of the organ.  It had seemed
rock hard when I started, but this treatment made it stiffen even
further, gradually changing in color from pink to red to almost
purple.  Donna groaned out something incoherent.  She seemed to liked
this.  Parting my thick lips I took the glans into my mouth,
delighting in the sweet flavor of pre-cum.  Then I took the cock
deeper, and deeper, and yet deeper into my mouth, until my nose was
flush with the pubic hair and the cock was halfway down my throat.  I
have heard conflicting rumors about the reality of deep-throating.
Certainly no woman has actually done that to me in real life.  In sim,
though, almost anything is possible, and I deep-throated Donna with a
vengeance, her cock pushing its way down like a sword-swallower's
sword.
I don't know how long this went on.  I was in ecstasy; sometimes
deep-throating, sometimes licking and sucking on the shaft from the
side, and sometimes bringing Donna right to the edge with a combined
blow and hand job.  When Donna began to buck and thrash around I knew
she was ready.  I carefully inserted the long red-painted fingernail
of my little pinky into her butt-hole.  This is what works with me,
and since I programmed the sim it worked for Donna too.  Instantly she
began to come, crying out and pumping great wads of thick semen into
my mouth.  I tried to swallow it all, but it was too much for me and
some dripped onto my chin and chest.  Obsessed with the desire to have
it all, I wiped it up with my hand and licked my fingers hungrily.
"Mmmmmm, that was nice," said the man with my voice and Donna's mind.
He (she?) drew me up and langorously kissed my forehead before
settling deeper into the beanbag chair.  I enjoy napping after oral
sex, so I'd built in some time for it in the sim.  Donna would now
sleep for about 10 minutes.
I knew what was coming next.  Combined, the taste of semen and the
sound of a sleeping man's rhythmic breathing were the trigger for the
next scene of my sim fantasy, a scene in which Donna was supposed to
play a solo role.  But our roles were reversed.  It was now my
performance.
Until now my new cunt had not merited much thought.  I couldn't help
being aware of how hot and moist I had become during that first kiss
and embrace, but until now the triggers that had been used had chiefly
aroused the erogenous zones of my mouth and breasts.  Now it was
different.  My cunt and clit became swollen and demanding of
attention.  Even the slightest movement of my legs created such
sensations in my crotch that I had to struggle not to moan.  Quietly,
so as not to disturb the sleeper, I rose and tiptoed over to the other
end of the room, reveling in every stride as cunt juices leaked out
and moistened my inner thighs.  I stopped at a velvet loveseat and
turned it slightly to face a mirror.  If I were going to do this, I
thought, at least I'd do it right.
I stripped off my teddy and stood for an instant in front of the
mirror in nothing but my damp panties.  Quickly I stripped them off
too and tossed them into a corner.  Entranced, I gazed at myself.
"Shamelessly hussy," I thought, as I looked at my pubes, shaved except
for a little patch of blonde hair at the top.  Still watching the
mirror I lay down in the love seat, throwing one leg over the arm
rest.  "What does a clit feel like when it's yours?" I wondered,
running my fingers gently over my vulva.  I pushed just hard enough so
that my cunt lips separated and a red fingernail brushed the clit.
"Ooooooh!" I gasped, "that's what it feels like."
I masturbated eagerly, rubbing my clit first with one finger and then
with two.  I tried teasing it gently with flicking movements of my
fingers.  I tried rubbing it vigorously with the palm of my hand.  I
learned how to moisten it with my free-flowing cunt juices and rub it
back and forth between my thumb and index finger.  I pushed three
fingers of one hand into my cunt while playing with my clit with the
other, creating a most satisfying sensation.
And I came.  Several times I think, each one more intense than the
next.  I must have screamed out, because when I came to I was lying on
the floor beside the love seat, Donna beaming down at me with a
slightly condescending smile.  "Having fun?" she asked.
How embarassing.  "I think I've had enough for today," I lisped.
"Let's go now."
"But how can we go now?  We haven't screwed yet.  You wouldn't want to
leave without getting laid, would you?  My little bed bug ... my
lizard ... my spring chicken ... my pop tart ..."
Donna was running down the list of my pet names for her, watching me
intently for signs to indicate that she'd hit a trigger.  Not only did
she hit one, she hit several in succession.  I reeled dizzily under
the rapid fire of one erotic fantasy after the next.  At last I
shouted out "Oh god, fuck me now!  Fuck me now!"
Donna got the hint.  "Let's do it in the loft."  She strode over to
the ladder and climbed it two rungs at a time, the muscles of her
(his?) athlete's body rippling.  I followed more slowly, careful not
to bang my breasts on the way up.  On the way up I tried to examine my
internal state.  It seems I lucked out.  Although Donna had left me in
a state of full arousal, it was one in which I had some of discretion
over what I'd do.  I was going to get screwed all right -- probably
several times -- but at least I wasn't going to humiliate myself by
doing something kinky.  I winced, thinking of some of the things I
might have been forced into if Donna had stumbled onto the right
trigger phrases.
The floor of the loft was entirely covered by an immense, deep
featherbed.  The only other thing up there was pillows of various
sizes and shapes.  Donna reclined nonchalantly in the center, fully
erect, and examining her penis with an amused air.  "I think it's time
for me to find out what this thing can do."
I knelt on Donna's lap, resting my ass on her sinewy thighs so that
her cock came up between my legs.  "Take me now, lover," I whispered.
I rubbed my hairless cunt against her member, lightly coating it with
cunt juices.
Donna responded without hesitation.  In a blink of an eye I was on my
back, legs dangling in the air over my partner's shoulders, and pussy
filled with pumping cock.  Did I like it?  Of course I did.  The sim
programming didn't give me any choice.  I loved being fucked in the
pussy.  I savored every moment of it.  I cried out again and again, in
my high little voice, "Oh god!  Fuck me!  Fill my pussy!  You're
screwing me in the cunt!  Oh deeper!  Oh harder!"  Soon I wasn't
saying anything, just gasping with pleasure as multiple orgasms swept
over me.
We did it twice again after that, once with me on top, my heavy
breasts bouncing up and down in rhythm with our pumping, and again
with me on the bottom.  At last, spent, we cuddled together in the
depths of the feather bed.  Donna stroked my cheek and kissed me
again.  "I guess it's time to end the sim, puppy dog.  I'm ready to be
a woman again.  You can wear the pants from now on."
I froze.  Did she say "puppy dog"?  What a fool I was!  This was the
trigger to a subroutine that I had programmed idly one night, but
never intended to put to use.  Partly as a little joke and partly as a
safety measure I had deliberately chosen a "pet" name that Donna used
for me, not vice versa.
I was going to have a lot of explaining to do if Donna saw this
subroutine go into effect.  My only hope was to hold out against the
sim-manufactured urges until she stopped the run.  I closed my eyes,
gritted my teeth, and clenched my fists.  But it was no good.  The
urges were too strong.  In a moment I had risen to all fours and was
frisking and bounding around the loft like an excited puppy, yipping
excitedly.
"Chris, what are you doing?" Donna cried with alarm.  "Chris?"
I bounded over to her, still on all fours, and panted with my mouth
open.  Suddenly I gave her face a big wet lick with my tongue.  I spun
around, pushing my butt upwards and wagging it back and forth like a
happy dog.  I barked encouragingly.
Donna had begun to catch on, and seemed none too happy about it.  "You
were going to do *that* to me?!" she boomed in her deep voice.  "I get
it.  'Puppy dog'!  Make me act like a bitch in heat so that you could
take me doggie style?  You know I don't like doing it that way!  You
fucking asshole!"
Things were going from bad to worse.  "Fucking asshole" was another
trigger phrase;  Donna wasn't going to like this a bit.  But at least
I wouldn't have to bark any longer.
I found my voice.  In words thick with passion I said, "Yes.  Please
fuck me in the asshole.  Stick your cock deep into my butt.  Fill me
to the hilt.  Oh please do it!  Do it now!"
The expression in Donna's voice changed from outrage to amusement.  I
imagined her man's mouth leering at me.  "You really want me to fuck
you in the butt, Chrissie?"
"Oh yes, please!  Do it in my ass!  Come inside my ass!"
I felt a strong hand on my right ass cheek.  "If you want it so badly,
it would be a sin to disappoint you."
"Oh now!  Now!"
A finger at my cunt, wiping up my abundant pussy juices.  The same
finger, coating my little pink asshole with those same juices.  The
tip of a huge, hot cock, pressing down on the entrance way to my
bowels.  Pressure slowly increasing ... increasing.
"It'll never fit," I cried, "You're too big!"
Suddenly my sphincter yielded, the pressure disappearing as the cock
slid slowly, slowly into my sigmoid.  Now the pressure was replaced by
a tightness, a feeling of fullness, and incredible pleasure.
Cock buried in my rectum, Donna leaned over me and grabbed a tit in
each hand.  I moaned in delight.  "You're being corn-holed, you know,"
she (he?) remarked.  "How do you like it?"
"I love it!" I gasped.  "Fuck me harder!"
Donna obliged, pumping her (his?) meat into me in long, leisurely
strokes.  She would pull herself nearly out, making me cry out to have
her in me again, and then, when I thought I'd go insane with longing,
slide it back in to its full extent.  Her large hands squeezed and
caressed my breasts.  In minutes I had an anal orgasm, shaking and
crying out as my sphincter went into spasm.  It must have felt good at
the other end too, because Donna cried out at the same time and shot
her wad into the depths of my bowels.
I collapsed, Donna's cock still buried deep inside me.  We lay that
way for a long time, listening to each other's breath, saying nothing.
My partner finally spoke.  "I think that's enough for now.  Computer,
end sim."
The beach house, the loft, the featherbed dissolved, and I found
myself back in my living room, leads still attached to the cooling sim
generator.  I looked over at Donna, who seemed cool and collected as
ever in her modest blouse and skirt.  In contrast, I felt like I'd
been kicked by a camel and then left out to die in the Sahara.
"Donna, I'm so sorry."  It was good to have my normal voice again.
She smiled at me with unexpected sweetness.  "You do have a little
explaining to do.  But I'll take some of the blame.  I mean, I put us
in that situation you know."
I looked at her with widening eyes.  "What do you mean?"
"Haven't you figured it out, you dodo?  I switched the cables in the
back of the generator; while you were fiddling with the console!
Remember?"
I couldn't think of anything to say, so I threw a couch pillow at her.
And missed.
[END]
Brian C. Ladd, Curator, Mindnumbing Archive
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