The Pink Institute is back in business!

As patrons, you get a sneak peek at the cover of the next story and a little tease of the content.  It's been a while since I did a story in the Pink Institute universe, but I couldn't resist going back.  Below is an excerpt from the story coming very soon!

“This is something,” Saunders was saying, eyes wide as he took in the central room of the Pink Institute’s education center. All around him, bodies passed and swirled,

wisps of perfumed skin filling his nostrils with perfumed lust. Aurora noted the way his eyes scanned the irls who had taken the bimbo track, especially their breasts.

Saunders, it turned out, was like every man in that he was easily swayed by a deep valley of cleavage.

  “And all of this is run by you?”

“I have a very dedicated staff,” Aurora said, leading him to one of the classrooms.

The door was closed, but one could see through the window.  Behind the glass, a buxom instructor in a tight-fitting black dress and impractically tall black heels was leading the class in the proper use of one’s lips on a cock. A dozen girls and

shemales were deep-throating dildoes in a variety of colors, some expressing

more enthusiasm than others, but all in the throes of genuine pleasure.

“I appreciate the invitation, Aurora,” he said, barely glancing at the mistress despite her skintight black PVC pants highlighting the bulge in her crotch and the matching bustier that presented her augmented chest.

“I just don’t know what I can do to help. Even if I voted your way, you have to have a consensus for the board to reverse its decision. I sympathize, I really do, but the others… well, they were born at a different time.    Nothing you or I can say will change the fact that the world they grew up in is disappearing, and they’re desperately clinging to it.”

“I know, Calvin,” Aurora said, resting a hand in the crook of his arm to pull him away, with not a little reluctance, toward the back of the room where the maids were busy attending to the cleaning of the large stairwell.

“What I want is something else. I need you to do something for me that the others on the board can’t.” “What’s that?”

Around the stairs leading down to the maids’ room, Aurora found herself in front of a trio of booths, covered in pink and purple rubber. They stood a bit higher than

either Calvin or Aurora, and about half again wide. They looked like the most delightfully colored phone booths in history, though lacked any windows to suggest what might be within.

“You should see these,” Aurora said, finding the handle of the closest booth and opening the door to reveal a dim interior, still obviously decorated in a deep pink.

“And when you do, you’ll see what I need.”

Calvin dipped his head into the booth, wrinkling his nose at the thick smell within.

It was a combination of rubber and flowery scent and something else, musky and rich. He staggered forward, catching himself against the opposite

wall of the booth as he spun in time to see the door shut. 

“Hey!” His hands scanned the wall that had just been opened,

searching for some kind of release. From the other side, Aurora listened to the muted thumps of Calvin Saunders’ hands as he searched for a way out of the rubber cell. 

Her hands shook as she flipped the latch to lock the door in place, acutely aware that when he stepped out of that booth, he would not be the same man who had entered it.

“What you can do,” Aurora whispered to herself, “is help me prove to myself that I can do this.”

With that, Aurora marched up the steps to the control room where she would monitor the goings on of the conditioning booth. Already inside, Nikki was watching Calvin scan the nooks and crannies of the conditioning booth.

“How is he?”

Nikki turned to Aurora and gave her a sympathetic smile.  “Scared, I would say.  Confused. Have you settled on a routine?”

Aurora seated herself before the computer monitor set into

the wall. Beside it, a series of displays granted her a view of almost every corner of the building. There were times she would come to this room to watch the classes or the impromptu celebrations of staff and guests, delighting in what she had created, and that memory urged her hand forward as she scrolled through the list of programs to be used in the booths. Some were for maids, some for mild conditioning of guests to loosen their inhibitions before they began classes, some even to erase previous programming.

 The one she chose now was far more powerful.  Total Female Conversion, it read.