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Dependency By Beverley Anne Miles The body was lying in the darkness, partially hidden in the corner of shadow at the foot of the wall next to the back entrance to my shop. I was coming back from the pub one night, quite late, when I found it. I checked around me to make sure it wasn't a set up for a mugging - it's been tried before, then leant down over the prone body - when I first looked I wasn't sure what gender I was looking at. Face down, the long lank hair hid the facial features and the clothing was non-descript. Thin T-shirt, jeans with the knees out, worn trainers and an ex army combat jacket. Definitely underdressed for sleeping on the pavement in January. Oh, yes, it was a guy. As far as I could tell he was out cold and I knew that if I left him there he'd probably die of hypothermia by morning. So I did the Good Samaritan thing; I checked the area again, then unlocked the door into my back yard, picked him up and carried him through. Once the other side of the yard door I laid him down again and relocked the door. By now I suppose I must be sounding a bit paranoid, so let me explain. I'm quite big and can take care of myself, but I know that I'm also a potential target. This is because I'm a pharmacist and I'm the only one in the district who can supply methadone to the recovering heroin addicts in the area. The chemist shop and pharmacy are as secure as the Bank of England and my flat is over the shop. Add to this the fact that I'm 6'2" tall and well built with it, so the Police recon that I can handle myself and any recovering addict. But, there are others out there who would like the methadone, either to help themselves or to sell. Plus there's all the other prescription drugs inside as well, so I just take care. I've been threatened a few times, but safe so far. Anyway, I did the door routine again to get inside, then I carried him up to the flat and laid him on the sofa. He was still out of it and felt freezing cold to the touch, so I grabbed a blanket and threw it over him - let him come around in his own time was what I thought then. After a minute or so putting the kettle on and taking my coat off, my curiosity got the better of me and I checked his pockets to see if I could find out who he was. Maybe get a name, phone number or address so I could call someone - he didn't look old - mid teens maybe? The contents of his pockets were very revealing - but in a different way. He was a thief and more to the point, I suspected that I'd been his last victim. He had no ID, no money, no keys and his pockets were full of trade boxed drugs. I checked to make sure that he wasn't going to wake up too soon, then locked him into the flat and went downstairs to the office. I have CCTV set up to monitor the pharmacy, shop and front and back of the building - paranoid, me? - so I sat down and played the video footage from the last few hours. My new guest was clearly shown shimmying over the yard wall, not a bad feat given it's 8' tall on the outside. I didn't see what he did to the window, but he got the narrow strip open and squeezed into the toilet cubicle head first. He next appeared in the pharmacy and methodically looked through the shelves and draws, methodically selecting items. I knew that he couldn't get to the controlled drugs, as they are all locked in the safe in the office - well nearly all - but I'll explain that later. He went out the same way, but on his way over the wall, it looked like he slipped. I know I wouldn't have wanted to go over at that speed. Now knowing the truth, I checked the toilet window and locked it shut. Someone must have left it unlocked. It might have been me, so I wasn't going to blame any of the staff; just make sure it doesn't happen again. Then I went back upstairs again, to check on my guest. *** He came round about an hour later, but by then I was ready for him. He opened his eyes and I got a classic panicked 'Where the Hell am I?' expression, before he caught sight of me. I was sitting in the armchair looking straight at him and between us on the coffee table were the contents of his pockets, neatly arranged. He tried to jump up, to get away, but that's only an option if you're not tied hand and foot to the sofa. After a minute or so of struggling, he relaxed and looked back to me, staying silent. Fair enough. I'm the one asking the questions after all. "So mister mystery thief, I imagine that you have a number of questions, like 'Where am I?' and 'What happened?' but those are going to have to wait. Because first you answer my questions." He looked sullen and remained silent, so I continued "Or, you can answer the questions that the Police will want to ask you?" I indicated the drugs on the table. "Either you start right now or I pick up the phone and dial 999." "Please, what happened after I went over the wall?" he asked, his voice sounding surprisingly cultured - and totally at odds with his appearance. I briefly explained about finding him, then the drugs in his pockets and finished with mention of the CCTV videotape - just to let him know exactly what his position was. But his voice had thrown me, so I gave him the opportunity to use it some more. "So, seeing as I haven't yet called the Police, you now get a chance to explain yourself and I may be lenient. After all, you didn't get away with anything and you pointed out a weakness in my security, so talk." I suppose I felt sorry for him, but not too sorry. You see, I had an idea, a plan and the little thief seemed perfectly suited for it. He said his name was Justin and he admitted that he was a heroin addict. He claimed he was 19 and had been in his first year at University when he got hooked, but his habit rapidly got him thrown out. He convinced me that he was quite intelligent when he said he was trying to get therapy to cure his addiction, but his parents had thrown him out too, so he was homeless - well actually, at the moment he was in a squat - and without a real residence he could not get the therapy he knew he needed. Then he heard that I was the local methadone source and thought he'd give it a go. He'd planned well, usually waiting for me to go out, then nip over the wall and case the joint. Justin had done this a few times until last night, when he found the open window - as long as he could get his head through he knew the rest of him would fit - as he was pretty thin. Thin? - Justin was suffering from malnutrition if I was a judge. Probably spent all his money on dope and not enough to eat. That being the case, he probably passed out on his way over the wall - the exertion overloading his body. "So let me sum you up." I said. "You're a 19 year old homeless heroin addict, suffering from lack of food and you've just been caught red handed in the act of burglary. Is that everything?" Justin nodded, shyly. I thought for a bit. He was absolutely perfect for my plan. "One final question then?" I asked. "When you broke in, you wanted the methadone. Was this to sell or for yourself, because you had some misguided idea about curing your addiction?" The young man quickly responded, "Oh, it would have been for me, but what do you mean by misguided?" He seemed quite serious about it. I began to explain. "It's not just the substitute drug, but also the way its administered and managed plus your state of mind." "Oh. But I can't get on the proper course without a doctor and a place of residence and..." he trailed off dejectedly. He definitely sounded as if he was committed to break his habit. So I'm going to offer him a chance - on MY terms of course. "Justin?" he looked up. "I'm going to make you an offer and I need a decision now. There are only two options available to you..." I had his attention. "Now, either I can pick up the phone and call the police. I have you here and I have the video footage of you breaking in and stealing. The other option is that I will try and help you. I'm not promising anything, but I can try and help you break your addiction!" Not surprisingly, he couldn't believe what he was hearing -- so asked, "What's the catch?" "The catch, as you so neatly put it, is that in trying to cure you - and I'm not guaranteeing that I can effect a cure - you will do exactly what I tell you. You see, I have the idea for a new form of treatment, but I obviously need to test it and I need a, erm, 'volunteer'. "It will be done using a combination of the methadone and psychiatric techniques, such as aversion therapy. This will reinforce the effect of the drug, to discourage you from wanting to continue." Justin thought for a minute, then asked, "What sort of psychiatric methods? I only ask as I was starting to study sociology at University and that referenced psychiatry quite a lot." A bright kid - I just hope he doesn't know too much about the subject. Having said that, I can always throw him back to the police if it all goes wrong later. "Aversion therapy." I said, then expanded. "You see, I want you to not want to take any drugs, so to do that you have to relate degrading, humiliating or embarrassing acts with your drug highs, to give you the additional mental stimulus to want to stop." I placed my hand above the phone handset. "So what's it to be? Police or a possible cure?" I was pretty sure Justin would opt for the 'Cure', but it was a relief to hear it. Of course I had nothing in place to start this process, so I untied the lad and let him go back to his digs. I was pretty sure that he'd come back - the promise of methadone and a cure, as well as the threat of the police being called - would hold him until it was too late. He said he had enough heroin to keep him going another day, but he would need his new supply to start the following evening, so I told him to come back at closing time and he could 'move in' himself and his stuff then. I went to bed and planned my shopping for the next day. *** Justin arrived at the door of the shop just before I closed, all his belongings in a holdall over one shoulder and a rolled up sleeping bag over the other - all his worldly goods. He looked a bit nervous and agitated - the agitation I put down to the drive of his need. I took him up to the flat and told him to make himself at home in the spare room. This was not a glamorous option, as it was a small space, containing a single bed frame and mattress and a few cardboard boxes full of my old junk. It was in need of redecoration, but weather tight and secure - probably the best accommodation he'd had in a while. I explained that I wanted to make sure that he wasn't introducing any unwelcome guests, so made him hand me all of his clothes, including the stuff he was wearing and bunged it all in the washing machine on a long cycle. This left him standing naked except for a small towel. He looked starving and not particularly clean either, so I took him into the bathroom. I made him wash under the shower, then once clean, I instructed him to put his hair in a shower cap and to cover himself in 'special treatment' that would kill and prevent fleas, lice, etc. Well, that's what I told him. Actually it was a hair depilatory... After a while it began to irritate his skin, so I told him to rinse it off under the shower. Justin watched in dismay as all of his body hair disappeared down the plughole. "Is this supposed to happen Mike?" he asked me. I replied yes, after all, he couldn't do anything about it now. I explained that it would clear out any creatures living in the warm places around his armpits and groin - a pretty good response on the spur of the moment, I thought - and by the way, didn't it feel fantastically clean?, as well as the advantage of allowing him to get dry much quicker. "Well, yes." So he was now clean, smooth and naked and in need of a fix. He asked for clothes, but as I pointed out, all of his were in the wash and none of mine would fit him, being far too large. But, I had considered that and had got something for him to preserve his modesty - rubber incontinence pants! - well I do run a chemist shop after all. They were snug, but not tight fitting, except for the cuffs, which were strongly elasticated. He pulled them on, looking acutely self-conscious. "How do you feel Justin?" I asked. "Cold, exposed and embarrassed." he said. "Perfect. Almost time for your methadone then... but first, I'll explain a bit about your medication. I assume that you normally inject yourself? Where?" I enquired. Justin indicated the inside of his thighs, revealing the tracks of his previous entrance wounds. "Well, you've got me to help, so we can stop that abuse!" "Now methadone comes in three types. I can inject, give tablets or usually it's a liquid. What I want you to do is take the liquid form, but it won't just be methadone as we also need something to help get you back up to strength, because you are looking a bit malnourished and if you are to break this addiction, it will take physical as well as mental strength. It's just vitamins, minerals, etcetera." This was my own cocktail of drugs, comprising methadone and multi- vitamins as promised, as well as a hefty dose of female hormones, all mixed up with my own seminal fluid! The end result should be interesting... "Now, methadone works slightly differently to heroin. Mainly its slower acting, but also the effects will last longer, up to 36 hours, so you won't need more than one dose a day. But to make it easy you'll get a dose every 24 hours, while you get used to it." I handed him a small cup, containing a creamy fluid. Without inspecting it too closely, Justin held the cup to his lips, threw his head back and poured the contents into his mouth. It flowed slowly. He grimaced slightly at the taste, but forced himself to swallow. I wasn't surprised at his reaction, as the taste would be strong and unusual - the neutral taste of the drugs being overpowered by the salty, sticky cum. But of course Justin didn't know what it was supposed to taste like. You see, I had plans for Justin and this cock-tail was the key. *** The first few days were the same; after a hearty breakfast I'd send Justin out for some exercise during the day, to return during the afternoon. On his return, he was to clean up the flat, then cook dinner for both of us, to be ready for when I finished downstairs. I told him I was feeding him up to get his strength back, but with those hormones he was taking, I was hoping that he would put the weight back on in a different way. Men put on weight around the gut, but with women it goes to the arse and thighs. That was one of the reasons I sent him out on walks, so that he wouldn't sit around putting on weight in all the wrong places. After dinner, it was time for Justin's treatment. The whole treatment, not just the 'cocktail' After dinner the second night I asked him how he felt. How had the methadone been? "Okay." he responded. "You were right that the effect was different. The rush is slower..." he thought about what he had said and grinned, "But it also lasted longer and I don't yet feel the craving for my next fix. With heroin I'd be dying by now. Well it feels like I want to die!" "Good. Now I'll go and prepare the next dose and you can get ready." "What do you mean, ready?" asked Justin. "Remember the aversion therapy? Last night you told me you felt exposed and embarrassed. Well, that's how I want you to feel every time you take the mixture, so that you don't want to need the drugs. You need to associate the humiliation with the drug taking and that needs to continue through the high you get." Justin nodded in understanding. "Okay. So what do I need to do?" I handed him a small carrier bag and said, "The instructions are inside." as I left to go down to the pharmacy. *** In the pharmacy, I locked the door and got out the ingredients. A bottle of methadone from the safe, oestrogen in oral liquid form, various vitamin and mineral tonics and then opened my trousers and got my stiffening cock out. The most difficult fluid to dispense was my own semen, so I started there. I said before that I'm a big guy. But I'm also lucky in that I'm slightly out of proportion and have a really big cock. Even only slightly swollen it filled my hand, as I stroked while I thought about what I was doing to Justin. By now he would have opened the bag and inspected the contents. The instructions told him to strip naked, then put on the panties in the bag. They weren't particularly sexy or erotic, but they were feminine. Soft stretch pink cotton panties, with elasticated lacy trim around the waist and legs. I imagined him sliding the panties up his legs, then the items I had for him later on and I felt my essence churn in my balls. So I picked up the beaker and held it over my knob to catch my cum as it spurted out. I stroke myself to a climax and shuddered as I splashed into the glass. The thick ropy spunk covered the base in an uneven glutinous mass. This I diluted with the other fluids, to quarter fill the beaker. I know exactly how much methadone to add and the pick me ups are easy, but the oestrogen is guesswork. I've dispensed to transsexuals before, but as well as the female hormones they often get testosterone blockers. Not only was I not supplying the blockers, but I was also administering essence of testosterone - my macho cum - so I'd tripled the dose, just to make sure. As I was mixing the cocktail there was a knock on the door. Justin was outside. I unlocked and let him in. Naked, but for the panties, I could see the outline of his thickened but not erect cock through the soft material. He walked in, then got to knees in front of me, as per instructions. Looking up at me from his submissive position, head level with my groin and recently concealed dick, he asked, "Please Mike, can I have my medicine?" He was blushing with shame and embarrassment as I passed him the glass. He sniffed the contents and grimaced - it was quite a pungent mix - but I urged him on. "It's all part of the treatment. If you dislike the taste and smell, well, it's another key to aversion. Drink it up, quickly!" As before, he threw his head back and drank it down in one, swallowing deliberately, with a slightly grimace. "Well done!" Now go to your room so you can get your rush without bothering me. But leave the panties on, okay?" "Yes Mike." He got to his feet, turned around and walked out of the room. The hard tiled floor was cold, so he walked on tiptoes to save his soles, producing a delightful high-heeled bum wiggle as he left. *** I kept him in those cotton panties for the next two evenings, until he seemed to become comfortable in them or at least less self-conscious, so then I upped the ante. That evening, I had him wear a pair of French knickers. Now French knickers use quite a bit of material, so theoretically can be quite concealing, but not these. They were split up the sides so the front and back panels were only joined at the waistband and a seam up the middle of the back panel encouraged the material to slid into the crack between his cheeks. The material was a plain white semi- transparent nylon, so really they concealed nothing... Because of the loose fit, Justin's penis would either hang out of one of the leg openings, unless the sensations of the soft material rubbing against it would arouse him sufficiently to give him a stiffy and thus keep it 'hidden' inside. I'm sure that just anticipating this reaction caused me to cum more than usual - the glass looked fuller and the cocktail slightly thicker than before! When he walked in I knew what his reaction had been. His face was beetroot red and he held both of his hands cupped in front of his groin. "What's wrong Justin?" I asked. "Don't you think the aversion therapy is working? Now hold your hands up out of the way and give me a twirl." Reluctantly he removed his hands, to reveal the strong outline of his erect cock straight up the front of the knickers. Visible through the material, the pink of the shaft was topped by a swollen purple head. He turned around, once again on tiptoes because of the cold floor, to reveal the back panel was indeed puling in between his bottom cheeks, outlining his rounded arse. Delightful. I could feel my own cock stirring in my trousers and I'm sure it twitched as Justin got to his knees in front of it. But he was so self-conscious he didn't notice what was straight in front of his eyes. He asked for and quickly received his medicine. He no longer smelt it in advance and was not grimacing so much as he swallowed. Excellent, he was starting to accept the taste. He made to get up immediately, but I placed a hand on his shoulder, to hold him there. "Justin. I know you're humiliated, but that is as it should be. You do know that?" He nodded in response. "However, I have noticed that this floor isn't so easy on your bare feet, so why not try these?" I handed him a box that had been on the bench behind me. "Go on. Open it." Inside were a pair of slippers - boudoir slippers. They were pink mules with open toes and a low 2" heel. Justin inspected them with bemusement. "Well, you are walking on tip toe anyway, so these will make it easier, eh? Go on. Put them on." I instructed. He stood up, then slipped his bare feet into the mules. He looked relieved to get his soles off of the cold floor, but retained the bemused look as he now minced back to his room, hips swaying slightly. *** He wore the French knickers, with the low heeled mules for another evening, then the following one I decided it was time for another change. Baby blue nylon panties with rows of white lace trim across front and back - real little girl show off panties. Again Justin had a hard on when he came down for his dose. For the next week I gave him a different pair each evening and each time he was hard. There was the tight cream satin, high cut at the leg, but low at the front and rear, showing off the top of his crack and almost the full length of his shaft, balls tightly held in the gusset. Black satin and lace thong or the whore's open crotch red nylon... Each time he'd go back to his room, for the rush - the hit from the methadone. Sometimes I stood outside the door listening. There was no lock on the door, so after I was sure he had fallen asleep, I'd look inside to check on him. He'd be completely out of it, but still wearing the panties. OK, sometimes they were around the tops of his thighs, but they were still on him. His stomach and the panties were usually sticky and glistening with cum. This was perfect, as he was now associating the rush with wearing panties and climaxing. *** After a couple of weeks Justin was beginning to recover from the malnutrition he had suffered and was beginning to put some weight back on - seemingly in all the right places. His ribs had withdrawn from sight and his arse and thighs were starting to fill out, whilst his chest and nipples were beginning to show signs of swelling. His appearance had improved with time as well. Regular showers, with weekly applications of the depilatory cream were keeping him smooth, whilst his long blond hair now glowed with health after all the hair care he'd thrown at it. Time to up the pressure again. *** Three weeks after we'd started the treatment, Justin was once again on his knees in front of me, asking for his medication. His cock was as hard as ever with the French knickers that I had told him to wear again, but he was no longer red with embarrassment as the first time. Looking down at him, I could definitely see signs of his bare chest swelling, the incipient budding heralding the onset of the effect of the oestrogen he was taking. Instead of handing him the cocktail, I passed him a small carrier bag. He opened it and pulled out a tissue wrapped parcel, which revealed a short white chemise, matching the knickers he was already wearing. He inspected it, then knowing the score, he pulled it on over his head. The spaghetti straps supported the short garment, its scalloped hem just reaching the waistband of the knickers, while the v shaped neckline drew attention to Justin's incipient cleavage. The material rubbed over his nipples as he slipped it on and he gasped at the sensation. I instructed him to stand, then said, "Those slippers I gave you are just helping you, so I think it's time for them to hinder and help the aversion process. Take them off and give them to me." Justin did so and I put them behind me - he won't need them again so they can go to the charity shop. Then I handed him another shoebox. Pink open toed mules again, but this time with a feather detail on the strap, 3 1/2" stiletto heels and paper thin soles. Justin bent over and put them on the floor, then stood up to step into them. Every time he moved or bent, the chemise rubbed over his sensitive nipples and he responded, gasping or sucking in his breath. "Now walk around in them a bit, to get used to the height, then go outside and come in again." I instructed. He strutted around the small room a couple of times. The high heels made his buttocks oscillate up and own and at each step his nipples were teased by the transparent fabric. I could see them standing stiff, bigger than ever before. He left the room, closing the door behind him, then knocked to be allowed to come back in. I called out my assent and in he swayed, his long sensuous legs accentuated by the higher heels. As instructed, his long blonde hair was loose around his shoulders and apart from the lack of breasts and the telltale bulge in the front of the knickers, Justin was starting to look more like 'Justine'. I didn't ask him to kneel as usual, just handed the glass of milky fluid over, for its usual swift dispatch. *** The next evening, I gave Justin his first bra. It was only a Double-A cup, a starter and it matched the frilly little girl panties he'd worn before, but it was a momentous moment. Justin was mortified at the thought of wearing it, but I insisted. No bra - no medication. I had to help him with the clasp at the back and to adjust the shoulder straps, but he did look sweet - in a 'thirteen year old in her first bra' kind of way. Cream Wonderbra, red bustier and other combinations, I now had Justin in bra, panties and heels every night and so distracted by his clothes that he drank his medicinal cock-tail almost without noticing, I asked him about it on breakfast. "It tastes salty and I don't think it's quite the same every night, but a bit always seems to stay in my mouth. The thing is once the rush hits I forget everything else and I always forget to clean my teeth before I fall asleep, so I wake up with the stale taste in my mouth. I've just got used to it." I followed up with. "What about the clothes I make you wear?" "I don't mind that, it's just the effect they have on me. It's embarrassing." I nodded. "It's not right, but it's sort of sexy, in a degrading sort of way - sinful." *** Despite the mix I was supplying him, Justin was now quite fit and beginning to fill out quite nicely, so I thought I'd get some more obvious 'payment' out of him. I had already made him responsible for all the household chores, cleaning, washing and cooking, so in his spare time he was to decorate his room. I told him that I had a teenage daughter from my failed marriage and that when she came to visit from her mother, that I wanted somewhere nice for her to call her own. He'd seen a picture of my sister and her daughter around the flat, so it was an easy lie. What it actually meant was that I could get Justin to decorate his room in a feminine style and then get him to live in it. The clothes that Justin had bought with him were starting to wear out and fall apart, so I told him to use the old stuff for work clothes - doing the decorating and that I'd get him some from the local charity shop - after all it would be my money. I presented him with a bagful of clothes, all either androgynous or veering towards the feminine. Stretch jeans, white trainers and short skinny t-shirts and tight jumpers. I didn't get any underwear - as I pointed out - he already had some! *** I changed the medicine regime slightly, now providing the daily vitamin pills with breakfast. Because I run a pharmacy, I could get them in bulk in unmarked tubs, so I put a variety in one container and instructed one of each type a day... and hiding in the mix were female hormone tablets as well. This meant that the evening cocktail was now a lot more concentrated. Just a carefully measured dose of methadone and an un-measurable quantity of fresh warm spunk. So, to distract Justin from the change in taste, it was time to add a new element to his continuing 'humiliation' - stockings. I made sure that he had nice smooth legs and skin and told him to come for his medication in his matching black Wonderbra and thong set. He strutted into the pharmacy on his high heels - now quite used to them - and wiggling his arse in a most feminine way. As usual now, he pirouetted, to show off his entire 'outfit', not that it consisted of much, but as he spun, his long fair hair flared out from his shoulders. I was beginning to find these sessions quite an ordeal as well! But I knew I would have to wait. To wait until it was too late and Justin had recognised the trap he was in. "I have something new for you - you seem to be enjoying your humiliation too much." At Justin's stringent denial I pointed out that if he wasn't, why did he look so comfortable in high heels, bra and panties? And why did he have a hard on? I handed him a small bag and another shoebox. They contained a black suspender belt - matching the rest of his set - sheer black stockings and a new pair of shoes. The shoes were a slip on court style, so he would need the stockings to wear them properly, in black suede with a 4" stiletto heel. Justin sighed, but fixed the belt around his waist and opened the packet of stockings. "Do you know how to put them on?" I asked. Justin shook his head, so I explained the technique. "Use both hands, thumbs inside and gather the material into a doughnut, then put your toe in and ease them up your legs, pulling and smoothing as you go. You look unsure. I'll tell you what, I'll do the first one for you." Justin objected, but I insisted. I gathered a stocking onto my thumbs, then got to my knees in front of him. "Foot." I commanded. Justin extended his right foot and I slipped the nylon onto his toes, checked it was aligned okay, then began to smooth my way up, over the heel, ankle and calf with ease, then at the knee I began to slid my thumbs up the inside and outside of his thigh, pulling and stretching the stocking as gently as I could. It was an incredibly erotic moment for both of us. Justin's cock twitched within the tight satin confines of the thong, inches from my face, so I couldn't ignore it. At the same time I could feel my own member leaping about within my own trousers. I showed him how to connect the suspenders - again tricky if you've never done it before - before standing up and making him do the other leg. In doing so he bent right over, giving me a fantastic view of his plump buttocks and the thong strap deep in his crack. Finally, he slipped his feet into the shoes. I told him to walk around a bit, to get the feel of the new shoes and stockings. Then I saw something... "Just a minute." I said "What have you done wrong?" "I don't understand." responded Justin. "Think about the way you are dressed. Something is wrong. Think about it as if you wore this stuff all day." - 'Because you will be', I added to myself only. - "The suspender straps?" They were outside the thong, not through the legs. I explained that if he was a girl and needed to go to the toilet, he'd have to disconnect his stockings before he could pull his panties down. Justin understood and adjusted the straps accordingly. He looked fantastic. It was a good thing I always wore my white coat in the pharmacy - ostensibly to give an appearance of legitimacy to the proceedings - but mainly to hide the behaviour of my unruly member. I knew it wouldn't be long before I upped the stakes again. I got him to walk about again, noting the pull of the suspenders and stockings on his legs and how easily he coped with the new slightly higher heels. Finally I handed him the new, less dilute, cock-tail of methadone and cum. As usual he made to throw it back quickly, but I grabbed his wrist as he upended the glass into his mouth. "Don't swig it, just drink it properly!" I ordered. 'Savour it!' I thought! Justin did as instructed, getting a full dose of the taste... He didn't grimace and he even licked his lip to recover a stray drop of creamy fluid on his lower lip. Good girl! *** Justin had been painting the bedroom, so it smelt pretty strong in there, forcing him to leave the door open for ventilation. I tried not to be too obvious, but this meant I could watch him get his rush. It was a couple of days after his first stocking experience and tonight he was in pink lace and satin set of bra, panties and suspender belt, with cream lace-top stockings and those black 4" suede stilettos. His skin was smooth, soft and rounded and the long blonde hair was past his shoulders. I could see him on the mattress on the floor that made up his current bed, as the methadone began to take its hold. He was lying relaxed, eyes closed and caressing himself - both his soft skin and through the sensuous materials he was wearing. His previously stiff standing member way now just engorged, lying slackly across his stomach. I quietly entered the room, my entrance unnoticed by Justin and sank down beside him. He was stroking his torso and nipples, so I began to stroke his nylon sheathed legs - he sighed at my touch, but did not open his eyes, so I continued. His legs parted as I caressed his inner thighs, so I let my hand roam above his stocking tops and began to touch his gusset shrouded crotch, then gradually slip my finger tip up until it was at his rear entrance. At the contact of my finger to his arsehole - felt through the soft satin - his cock began to spasm and spurt his essence over his belly. With the release of tension, he came down from his high and fell asleep, while I assessed the situation. He looked vulnerable and of course was. Although he did not yet know it, addiction to methadone is worse than heroin... and of course the lingerie and high heels were not causing aversion - quite the opposite in fact - as the methadone is reinforcing the pleasure of the cross dressing... Justin now associates getting his rush with wearing sexy girly underwear and the taste of cum. He just hasn't realised it yet! *** Two days later, he ran away. He later admitted that he'd finally realised what I was doing to him - or more to the point he realised what he was letting me do to him - that he was so disgusted with himself that he ran away. I wasn't worried though. I knew he would be back. It's the methadone. Withdrawal is crippling. Most heroin junkies reckon that going 'cold turkey' on methadone is far worse than with heroin and its very rare to find someone who can manage it. I was betting on Justin not being able to cope. And I was odds on to win. The cravings start at about 36 hours after the last fix and just ramp up from there. The stomach cramps are the worse... Justin was almost carried in to the shop the following day. The two guys carrying him looked pretty ropy too, but once depositing him, they ran off. The shop assistants called me in from the pharmacy, to find him curled in a foetal ball on the floor. I picked him up in my arms and took him up to the flat. I deposited him on the new bed in the spare room, then quickly retrieved some methadone that I had ready in a syringe - ready awaiting this moment. After all, I didn't want him to suffer, just come back. The spare room was now decorated and I'd added a new bed, wardrobe and dresser - all elegant and feminine - while Justin was away. When he awoke, it was in the room of a young girl. It took about two days for Justin to recover and while he was out I gave him a few shots of hormones, just to bring him back up to speed. I dressed him in a white baby-doll and put him to bed for all that time and while he was out of it I got rid of all his male clothing, leaving him with only lingerie, high heels and nightwear. I'd added to the stuff he already had, but he'd have to earn some outer clothes now. *** "Okay Justin, now here's the situation." I began. Justin, clad only in a pink baby-doll, sat at the head of the bed with his arms wrapped around his drawn up legs, looked apprehensive. I sat at the other end. "As you've realised, not only are you addicted to methadone, but you also associate that with wearing ladies clothing. The aversion therapy hasn't worked yet!" Not surprising really, as it wasn't meant to. "So, as before, you are in my hands. At my mercy. Now I will continue to administer methadone to you - on my terms - but now you are going to have to earn it." Justin nodded. "So, are you ready to start earning?" "Yes Mike. I - I'm sorry I ran off, but I freaked out. I won't do it again." "That's a promise that maybe hard to keep. Anyway, a few things that have changed. From now on I will be calling you Justine - it suits you better than Justin, especially as you will be wearing girl's clothes all the time now. All your old male stuff has been thrown out." Justine looked at me wide eyed, but just nodded and kept silent. "You will continue to look after me and the flat and once you've been to the hairdressers and learnt how to wear make-up, you will be starting work in the pharmacy and shop - as Justine." Another hesitant nod. "But first, lets get you dressed. Now go to your chest of drawers and get out the following." Justine did as I instructed. A purple satin basque with matching thong, black seamed stockings and black strappy sandals with a 4 1/2" heel. "Put them on Justine." "What now? While you're here?" "Yes. You'll probably need help with the basque anyway." He sighed resignedly and pulled off the pink baby-doll to reveal his naked body beneath. 'Justine' really was developing quite well. The skin would need another treatment of depilatory in a few days, but had been used often enough that any body hair was soft and light. The trim figure was enhanced by A cup breasts, with small nipples and the hips and thighs had rounded out nicely, to enhance the trim waist. For the first time I noticed that Justin's Adam's apple was hardly noticeable, accentuating the femininity of his neck. His face had filled out too, softening the angles of the jaw and chin. He was lucky, as he had a relatively small nose and naturally full lips. A few more days and they'd be really full. Stretched full to bursting! Only the cock hanging at his groin spoiled the picture of womanhood - spoilt but not ruined - as for some of us that just spiced-up the view. I told him to put the basque around himself and turn away from me, so that I could do up the 12 hooks at the back. It was tightly elasticated, which constricted his trim waist further and accentuated the swelling of his hips. I handed him the stockings and without moving he bent down to pull them onto his legs, giving me a fantastic view of his naked crack and tight pink puckered hole. By now my own cock was threatening to overcome the waistband of my trousers, so I stood up and left to go to the pharmacy, instructing Justine to follow me down when she was ready. *** When the knock came on the pharmacy door I was standing in front of the workbench, with my back to the door. I stayed that way, but turned my head and said, "Come in Justine." The door opened and in 'she' came - teetering slightly on those heels - but looking fantastic. There was a high stool to my left, I indicated it with my head and told Justine to sit. "I want you to help me with preparing your medication. I have the methadone." I held up a small beaker with a tiny quantity of clear liquid, "So, I need you to help dispense the, er, diluting fluid. You know, the stuff that gives it the taste, colour and consistency." Justine nodded. "Okay. You'll need this for the fluid," I handed over a beaker, "And this to get it out of!" I turned to Justine, to reveal myself. My white coat was open and so were my flies; sticking out through them was my cock. I've said before that I was a big guy, 6'2" in bare feet and heavy set, but even then my cock was out of proportion. Fully hard - and it wasn't yet - it measured 12" from belly to tip and about 7" in circumference. The purple knob was still half hooded by my foreskin and thick veins distended the skin of the shaft. It's big and I know it - I've checked out the net for 'Big Cock' sites and know I have absolutely nothing to complain about! Justine might have though! Justine gasped and I smiled. "Now I'm sure you know how this works. Just pump the shaft to dispense the fluid. Do it! NOW!" He jumped with surprise, but did reach out his hand. Tentatively, he stretched his fingertips towards the shaft, to softly touch it. His fingers looked tiny against the column of flesh. Gently, I urged him. "That's right, now wrap your fingers around it." Slowly, the small hand closed around my cock, the fingers and thumb unable to meet around the huge girth, making it look even bigger. Without further instructions, Justine gripped firmly and pulled down to snap the taught foreskin clear of the shiny knob. Oh God! It felt fantastic. "Good girl!" I applauded. The expression of Justine's face was one I've seen before - horrified fascination - you don't want to look, but you can't bear not to. A bit like watching a horror film though your fingers... "Justine?" The eyes flicked up to mine, then back to the centre of attention. "Don't forget what you have to do? I'll tell you when I'm about to cum, so then you pull it down so you can catch the fluid in this glass. Remember?" There is a nod of concentration, as Justine began to pump my shaft up and down. The look now is one of intense concentration and a second hand joined the first to encompass the thick muscular shaft. I know I won't last much longer, so I call out, "Get ready!" With some effort, Justine pulled my cock down to horizontal with one hand - I am reminded of a barmaid pulling a pint - and held the clean glass over the end. It was rapidly dirtied by several thick spurts as my cock belched out its load. When the fluid stopped oozing out of my slit, Justine carefully removed the glass and placed it on the bench. My knob was still slightly sticky with my juices, but was wiped clean before being returned to my underwear. The base of the glass was now covered with warm fresh spunk, to which I quickly added the methadone and then handed the glass to Justine. There was hesitation. "What's wrong? It's exactly the same mix as you've been drinking for the last few weeks. The same taste. Only now you know what it is!" "Yes." was the wistful reply. "Sometimes I think it's better not to know these things, especially when you've got a taste for them!" With that, Justine lifted the glass to 'her' lips and slowly drank the methadone cock-tail, giving an excellent impression of savouring it. *** The main shop, like most chemist's carried a number of ranges of make- up, so I had previously called one of my suppliers to do me a favour. I needed a beautician for a day, to help 'Justine' to learn how to put on a face properly. I'd arranged it for the next day, so when Justin awoke the next morning, I gave him a fitted white coat to go over his lingerie and some breast boosters - to improve 'her' general appearance - and told him to wait in the flat until I bought the beautician up. As far as I know, they spent the whole day teaching Justine how to make herself up. I can confirm that it was worth it. *** By now, I judged Justine had earned her first outfit of 'outer' clothing. As she was spending all her time in the flat, cooking, cleaning and washing, so she would need to dress appropriately. A maid's outfit seemed appropriate to me, so that's what she got... A short black nylon dress, featuring a low cut tight bodice with cap sleeves and a very short flared skirt, supported by a white frothy underskirt. The outfit was finished off with a tiny white apron and plain 4 1/2" stiletto heel shoes in black patent. Practical? NO, but sexy and slutty? - Oh yes! The outfit revealed her improving cleavage, as well as her stocking tops and a strip of creamy thigh below the skirt. If she leant forward, thighs, buttocks and whatever panties she was wearing were revealed. That evening I made Justine kiss my knob, just once, before handling my cock and dispensing my sperm. She left a trace of lipstick around the slit on the end. The next night, I instructed her to kiss my entire cock, all over the shaft and tip. The butterfly sensations were accompanied by red imprints from her freshly applied lipstick. It was so erotic I almost blew my load all over her face before she got the glass ready. *** The next day, I took Justine along to the hair dressers. Her long blonde hair was fantastic - reaching to below her shoulder blades - but it was almost the last non-feminine thing about her. To go out I had given her another outfit - a tight pullover with a deep v neckline and a micro-mini skirt, plus a wrap around coat. When they finished Justine had a fringe and frizzy hair that bounced around her shoulders. While they were at it they also pierced her ears and the holes were occupied by gold hoops. She looked fantastic, but I was still taking it slow. However, I felt it was time to change the routine again. I told Justine to go to her bedroom and put on her black babydoll and wait for me there. I went downstairs and collected a small phial with her methadone dose, then returned. Justine was sitting on the bed, looking absolutely adorable in her make up and transparent babydoll. As I stepped up to stand in front of her, I could see she was turned on by the thought of what was about to happen. Without prompting, she undid my trousers and let them fall, then eased my shorts down to my thighs. Unsupported, my monstrous cock fell forward to point straight at her face. She smiled and steadying the shaft with both her hands, she leant forward and kissed the knob with her bright red glossed lips. "Justine?" She looked up, into my eyes. "My cock and balls are all sweaty. It's thinking about you all day that does that! Clean it for me?" She made to get up - presumably to get a flannel - but I stopped her. "Use your tongue. Lick it clean!" "Okay." Looking at me again, she licked her lips, then began her task. My cock was pushed up against my belly and she leant down and placed the tip of her tongue to the root of my shaft, where it joins my balls. In one long lick, she coated 10" of the underside of my shaft to stop at the collar of foreskin around the underside of my knob. Then she returned to the base and did it again, slightly to one side. It took ten minutes to make my thick shaft nice and shiny and clean, then she bent down further and bathed my hairy ball-sacks with her saliva. The sensations were incredible and I know I was not going to be able to hold off for much longer even before she started on my knob. Finally, she began to lap at the swollen purple organ, but it was just too much to bear, so I told her to stop, then hold her mouth open with her tongue out. I placed my left hand on her head, fingers twined into her hair, whilst my right guided my prick, as I manoeuvred the two into conjunction. With my bloated organ resting on her outstretched tongue and aimed straight at her open mouth, I let rip. Cum blasted in five of six thick ropy loads, some catching on her lips and teeth, but most going straight in. "Don't swallow!" I ordered, before she could react. Then I pumped my shaft to squeeze out the last of my essence onto her tongue, before pulling her head back. I could see her mouth was lined with my sticky white cream, strands dripping from the roof of her mouth onto her tongue. I quickly retrieved the phial of methadone and poured it into the new cock-tail receptacle, to mix with the cum already pooled there. "Now. Swallow it!" Justine closed her eyes and mouth, then swallowed with a smile. A small drop of cum still gleamed on her upper lip, but the tip of her tongue slipped out and quickly collected it. After a moments savouring, she opened her eyes and noticed that a small final amount of fluid had leaked out of the slit on my glans, so she leant forward and licked it of, leaving me nice and clean. "Good girl!" I praised her, then tucked her up in bed for her rush. I sat down alongside her and stroked her hair as she curled up into the foetal position. My hand action slowly extended, to stroking the length of Justine's back - every stroke reaching further down - until I reached her firm rounded arse. The skin felt soft, but was stretched taught due to her legs being pulled up. Naturally enough, my fingertips found the crack between her buttocks and with a little gentle exploring, soon located her tight puckered hole. Justine was now totally distracted and relaxed by the effects of the methadone, so I carefully insinuated a fingertip through the tight ring - hardly disturbing her - and began to probe. Not surprisingly, she was very tight and far too small to accommodate much more than one digit, but there are ways... *** The next morning, I told Justine that she would be starting in the shop. It would be useful to have someone who could help cover lunchtimes, when the shop staff would want a lunch break and when more customers could come in on their breaks. I told her to get ready after she had done her chores and I would come and get her at eleven - when I would bring up her uniform. When I came up, she was waiting for me, daytime make-up and with her hair pulled back. She had picked black underwear - a basque and panties with nearly black stockings and 3 1/2" heels - obviously more practical! I handed her her 'uniform'. It was just a fitted white lab coat, with 4 poppers holding the front closed. On, it was decent, but only just. Justine's developing cleavage was clearly visible, as were her stocking tops through the slit at the front and rear. She looked slightly aggrieved at having to wear it in public, but I would brook no argument. Justine worked through until three in the afternoon, when I let her return upstairs to get a late lunch. The other members said she had done okay, so that was alright with me. Now she could really start to pay back for the cost of 'looking after her' for the last few months. And that evening, she began to earn her keep another way. Dressed in her maid's costume, she provided me with dinner, then assisted me in getting undressed. In my bedroom, I made her kneel in front of my naked body, eyes level with my semi erect cock. "Justine," I asked "What do you want?" "I want my medicine please." "Why?" "Because I need it, to make me feel good." "Is there any other reason you want your medicine?" She looked up at me shyly. "Well, I do like the taste as well..." "Well. You know what to do then. But this time, no hands!" I'd given her no option. The only way she was going to get me to cum in her mouth was by sucking my cock - and she actually wanted to do it! Of course, it wasn't easy. First she licked my balls and shaft as she had the night before, making the shaft slick, thick and throbbing. At its full stiffness, my huge member reared over her, so to capture the end with her crimson lips she had to stretch upwards, holding herself up by grabbing my thighs. Jaws open wide, she eventually managed to engulf the tip of my obscenely swollen penis in her warm moist mouth. With the tip under control, she could relax back onto her calves and then lean forward to fully accommodate the knob. Her lips were stretched tight around the circumference of my shaft, but I felt her tongue go to work, washing my swollen dome with saliva. "Is that all you can take?" I asked. She looked up at me though her eyelashes and nodded. A delightful sensation. But I responded. "I don't believe you. I'm sure you can get a couple more inches in there. Let me help!" With that, I inserted my fingers into her hoop earrings and gently pulled her head towards me. At first her ear lobes twisted towards me, but then Justine began to move her head - it was that or suffer more pain. Slowly, millimetre by millimetre, she accommodated more of my prodigious length between her lips. I could feel her tongue frantically caressing the underside of my shaft. After what seemed an age, I felt the back of her throat and eased off the pressure on her ears. "See, I said we could get some-more in there!" All I got was a muffled grunt in response. "Now lets see what we can do about dispensing, eh?" With that, I unhooked my fingers from her earrings and took hold of her head, gripping her hair. At first I used my grip to tilt her head back and forth on my stationary cock, but I soon changed the emphasis and held her head still whilst I bucked my hips, fucking her mouth. I was being gentle still, time enough for brutality another day, after all, I wanted Justine to enjoy my cock as much as she enjoyed my cum! Eventually the sensations and view were too much for me and I began to cum. I held her head with the just the tip of my cock between her lips, so that she could capture my cum without gagging or needing to swallow. I filled her mouth with thick strands of my hot cream, shuddering and sighing with pleasure. Then, as last night, she opened her mouth for the methadone, before swallowing the lot. "Good girl!" I praised. "Did you enjoy that? She blushed and looked at me, ashamed. But she still nodded her head. "Good. Because you can wake me up that way in the morning, from now on, okay?" "Okay Mike." *** True to her word, I awoke the next morning to a sensation of wet warm suction on my dick. I opened my eyes to see Justine, clad in a short satin nightie, on all fours on the bed, my cock concealed by the waterfall of her long hair. I reached up to stoke her hair, then, as I felt the pressure rise within me, I twisted my fingers into it. She bobbed her head on my cock, knowing there was no escape and continued to suck and slobber - I could feel her saliva dribbling down the length of my shaft. I gave Justine no warning, just jammed my cock in as far as it could go and blasted away. She struggled to get away as soon as the first spurt hit the back of her mouth, but I was too strong. She just couldn't swallow with me so far in, so her mouth quickly filled up. The hot sticky cream began to spurt out between her lips and my throbbing shaft and eventually I heard her snort a glop out of her nose. I eased off and let my diminishing member fall from her lips. Justine swallowed, then gasped for breath, before leaning down to lick up all the creamy essence that had escaped. For being so well behaved, I presented her with a new present. "What is it?" she asked. "It's known as a butt plug." Okay it wasn't very big, but you have to build up with these things. *** Over the following month, I made Justine wear increasing sizes of butt plugs all the time, only taking them out for two reasons - to void her bowels and when she was sucking me off. I also changed the medicine application again. Justine would suck me hard, then I would give her the methadone, before letting her finish. This had two advantages. Firstly, she could suck me off as I came - not having to hold it in her mouth and secondly, it meant that she was getting her rush from the methadone at the same time as I was pumping my cream down her throat. After a couple of weeks, she realised what was going on and told me so, in no uncertain terms... "You really are a bastard Mike. First you get me addicted to methadone and to like the taste of your cum, then you get me to enjoy sucking you off and then you added the two together. You've made me addicted to your cum! But now it's even worse... Every time I've got your lovely fat cock in my mouth, I've got this empty feeling in my arse and I want it filled up. And with your cock in my mouth that's all I can think about! I want your cock up my arse! I don't believe I just said that, but I know I did!" I smiled and said, "Patience dear. Do you think you're stretched big enough to take me back there yet?" Justine looked at the latest 'plug', which was currently on the bed beside us - it was quite big - a 'realistic' firm latex dildo, with raised veins and a ridge around the based of the knob... but was it big enough. I didn't think so yet and I told Justine that. "Just think. By the time you're ready for it, you'll really want it!" *** Eventually she got tired of waiting. I walked into her bedroom to find her waiting for me in her usual position, kneeling on the floor. She looked stunning, with her freshly cleaned and dried hair floating loose around her head and shoulders and her perfect make-up of smouldering eyes and hot red lipstick - her lips parted in anticipation. Her now perfectly pert B cup breasts were bare and hung free on her chest. Around her middle was a tightly laced waist-nipper corset in pink satin, from which stretched six suspenders, the front two neatly framing her upstanding cock. The suspenders supported a pair of shear cream stockings with lace tops and her entire outfit was finished off by a pair of pink strappy high heels, lashed to her feet. God, she was so desirable! I stepped up to her, shedding my clothes, to stand naked in front of her, saluting her beauty and her obvious willingness. Justine leant forward and planted a quick kiss on the tip of my flagstaff, but then stretched upwards and forwards, to capture my mighty tool in the cleavage between the magnificent globes of her breasts. I grasped her shoulders and fucked her tits, feeling her aroused nipples rubbing against my belly. Five minutes of this bought me to full length, at which point Justine sank back down onto her thighs and neatly caught my swollen purple knob between her lips as she did so. More comfortable now, she reached up her hands to grasp my column of flesh as a Valkyrie would wield a broadsword. Justine then proceeded to soak the weapon with her saliva, slobbering and drooling as she sucked and masticated the bulbous tip and smearing her spittle along the entire length of the fleshy shaft. I watched and enjoyed the sensations, first with deep pleasure at the erotic spectacle and then with rising tension, as I sensed the impending climax. She must have sensed I was nearing my peak, as she backed off and then locking her eyes with mine, climbed to her feet. I handed her the vial of methadone and she put it to her lips and quickly upended it, to swallow it straight away. Then, Justine put her arms up and around my neck and for the first time, kissed me, strongly on the mouth. Our lips parted and tongues met in an enticing tangle. I could taste the musk of my manhood on her breath as I felt my stiff stander trapped between my belly and the satin of Justine's corset. The kiss ended and Justine took a step back and issued her challenge: "You know what you have to do now. You want it. And I want it. So just stop pissing about and fuck me!" With that she span around and leant forward, to support her upper body on the bed. Her legs were apart, splitting her arse cleavage to reveal the puckered ring of her anus. It was ready, slightly open, the hole gleamed with lubricant, framed again by tightly stretched suspenders. She looked back at me over her shoulder. "Please Mike? Fuck me with your wonderful cock. Fuck me hard and stretch me to the fullest! Shoot your thick creamy load up my tight arse!" How could I refuse, after all, it would be rude not to! I stepped up and aimed my massive dome between her smooth alabaster cheeks and up against the pink ring. Justine sighed with satisfaction, but it was too soon, as I grabbed her around the corseted waist and forced my way in. She screamed - whether in surprise, pain, pleasure or joy I didn't care - I just grunted in satisfaction at the exquisite tightness of the fit. Ignoring Justine's needs to serve my own animal lust, I progressively and brutally thrust my monstrous pole deep into her delicate hole, until I felt my fully laden hairy balls rub up against her arse cheeks. Beneath me, Justine was gasping for breath, whilst her entire body had broken out in a hot sweat - her skin glistened beneath me. I left my cock buried deep inside her for a while, until I began to sense her arse soften around me and begin to make me welcome. It was still a tight fit, but I instinctively knew that if I withdrew, I'd slide straight back in. I was right. So slowly and gently, I began to fuck her arse. The sensations were fantastic - even better than I had been fantasising for the past few months. I lay down along her back as I pumped in and out and reached around her body to fondle her breasts - one in each hand. Most girls love this and so did Justine. She'd now stopped gasping and sighing in response the pounding her back passage was getting and had begun to urge me on. "Oh yes. Faster! Harder! Deeper! Fuck me my stallion, my stud. Fill me up with your delicious spunk. Cream my arse!" Music to my ears! I pushed myself upwards, leaving her fantastic tits to swing pendulously with each thrust and grasped the front of her thighs for a better grip. Then I increased the pace, upping the tempo and began to fuck her furiously. I looked down at my thick cock as it pistoned in and out, the shaft gleaming and shiny with lube, saliva and the odd brown fleck of excrement. That was just too much and as I forced it back in to full depth I blew my load, blasting away deep with her bowels. My still pumping cock became white with as own cream smeared along the length, before the excess began to fill her crack, the trickle down to soak into the lacy tops of her stockings. Justine's arms gave way and she slumped forward onto the bed, sliding easily off of my diminishing pole. She turned her head to face me - a look of sated satisfaction - and then concern, as she espied my cum smeared cock. To my surprise, she fell to her knees in front of me and proceeded to clean my cock - using just her tongue - and obviously enjoying every swallow. Of course, who can resist that sort of attention? My once drained cock stiffened to attention before her very eyes. "Again..." The End.