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Popular 4 free porn video
Thanks for the response, which has been great so far. It really
motivates me to keep writing, knowing that people want to read. I want
to keep people entertained.
Anyone who knows anything about getting some real life experience as a
sissy in NYC should definitely give me some advice. I'd love to know
how to find someone who'll treat me like a slut the way I fantasize
about.
Anastasia Toy
[email protected]
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By Anastasia Toy
Chapter 4
I remember waking. There was pain across my body, a combination of dull
and aching and sharp, spread everywhere, as if it was in no specific
part of my body. After the pain, my first impression was of silence; I
was very alone. Then I noticed a dim light from above, weak watery
light dropping into the room from an overhead window I could not see.
It wasn't much to see by. I could make out a long expanse of white,
which I could tell by feel was cloth draped across me, and around me
there were bars of glinting metal running parallel to the ground and
perpendicular to it - I realized these were bed railings and metal
stands. Finally I saw the outlines of tubes, barely visible, running
from my body into the dark that surrounded me. I was in a hospital.
Then I remembered where I was, and why I was there, and the pain I felt
was swallowed by an overwhelming despair and a kind of terror that was
mostly made of uncertainty.
Eventually this subsided into a burst of frantic thoughts and
questions. Where was I? Why was it so dark? Maybe I had been delirious
from some disease for which I was now being treated. Why was I in pain?
Why was no one attending to me? I was in a hospital, right?
I realized that I hadn't thought to get out of my bed, and I tried to
move - my hands and feet were stuck! Bound, it felt like, to something.
I tried to give a yell, but all that came from my throat was a kind of
strangled hoarseness, followed by a vicious pain.
It is strange to panic without moving, but this was all I could do.
Hours must have passed. Panic gave way to rage, at Lillianna and the
rest of them, and then returned again. I pissed, but I didn't get wet;
did I have a catheter? More hours passed. Had I been left to die?
There was a creaking noise - a door opening! The sound of footsteps,
and then a noise of boxes being moved, shuffling. Up on the ceiling I
could see a the play of a beam from a flashlight - there was a grunting
noise and more pushing of boxes - a large silhouette came in front of
me - there was a click, a flood of light, a moment of blindness.
And as my eyes readjusted, Antonio's cruel features gradually came into
view. "I see you're awake, Barbie."
I couldn't make a noise to respond to him, and so simply stared up at
his face.
"Don't look so afraid, Barbie. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just here
to switch your bags and give you some medicine."
He began to work. Looking around in the light, I saw that my bed was in
the middle of a very small room: Antonio was cramped at my side. Three
walls were heavy stone, but the fourth was plywood and looked
makeshift. Several bags of fluid were connected by tubes to my body at
various points; Antonio was removing some and adding new ones,
injecting drugs into others, measuring out new fluids. I was desperate
to find out what was going on. I needed to ask questions. I began to
gurgle, and tried to put urgency in it.
Antonio just laughed. "Shut up, Barbie. It's not going to do you any
good to make any noise. I'm almost done and then I'll be gone for
another day."
My gurgling got even more desperate.
"Don't worry, little girl. You're just recovering from surgery. Your
Adam's apple is gone, and your penis is too. Well, it's not gone - it's
replaced. So you have to stay here for about a week, while everything
heals."
I was almost screaming at this point, though the sound was awful to
hear and the pain was almost enough to make me faint. I was enveloped
by a total panic. Antonio's eyes flashed brightly; he seemed to be
enjoying this.
"You're going to destroy your throat, Barbie. We can't have that, so
I'm going to have to sedate you. Be ready to sleep a little more."
He turned around to some instrument I couldn't see. After a few button
presses and beeps, he turned to me with a syringe, and quickly made a
shot in my arm. Before long, I was adrift.
I drifted sometimes out of unconsciousness into a strange state of
waking dreams, which were so terrifying and disoriented that I was
always glad to slip back into sleep.
When I next woke up, the light in the little room was on, and Antonio
was in it again, now sitting in a chair at my side. My thoughts were
slow and confused.
"You're up, aren't you Barbie. Nod your head if you understand me."
I nodded.
"Do you know how long it's been? Two days since I saw you last. You
should be able to talk again, a little. Try."
I did. At first I got a croaking noise, but after a moment I found a
voice, if a raspy one. "Where am I?"
"Tucked safely away in the back of a stockroom."
"Why?"
"Because, Barbie," - he seemed to take delight in calling me Barbie,
but I didn't know why, or why he was doing it at all - "this is all
thoroughly illegal, and we can't have everyone knowing what's going on.
Gambeaux and I operated on you for over twelve hours in this tiny
fucking room. You should thank us."
"My penis?"
"Your cock? It's gone, I told you. You have a nice tight pussy,
though."
I was numb from confusion, and didn't reply.
He thought for a moment, and continued. "Not that anyone could tell.
You look like shit. Like a man looking like shit."
I stayed silent. I had suddenly realized that Antonio was very
dangerous. He reeked of whiskey and menace. My fear went from abstract
fear of a strange and uncertain future, to a very immediate fear for my
physical safety.
Antonio loomed over me. "I had to wait an hour for you to wake up. I
had to turn off the sedative and wait for an hour for it to wear off.
That was boring, and it smells awful in here. But you know why I did
it?"
I looked up at him. He was waiting for an answer. "No."
"Because I wanted to make something clear to you." His tone became
lighter for a moment, as if here were on a talk show. "You know, for me
this is kind of a dream come true. No, not a dream, it's one of those
things Lillianna talks about sometimes. A - a primal urge. Lillianna
left me, and started fucking you, and now I've got her back and I'm
taking your masculinity from you as revenge. That's pretty fucking
cool, don't you think?"
I didn't answer. It was strange to hear him talk so lightly about
something so bizarre and so dark.
"You know, the reason Lillianna left me is because I can be a real
asshole. Like you know why I like doing plastic surgery?"
I kept silent.
"Because I like making women look hot. Not beautiful, but hot. Big
fucking breasts, tiny little waists. Huge lips, big eyes. I like making
them look like porn stars. And I like fucking them that way, too. And
you know Lillianna - she hates all that shit. But she kind of likes it,
too, is the weird thing. Always wanted to know how a man as smart as I
was could be so savage, like she was complaining about it, but my
theory is it's her favorite thing about me." His voice had lost its
light tone, and now it was all menace. He had sharp features on a
rugged face, but now he looked like a brute.
"Because I'm honest about it - that's what she likes the most. She
thinks all men are like this - even more so when she found your fairy
ass raping that girl - but at least I'm up front. At least I do it with
a little bit of honor. Whatever. Now she's fucking me. But somehow it's
not enough. I'm still angry at you for being the first to have her
after she left me. And I want to take it out on you.
"You're lucky as fuck that Lillianna is keeping me in check. So goddamn
lucky. If it were up to me you'd have quadruple D breasts and a tattoo
that said cocksucker on your forehead. I'd leave you on the streets of
Vegas, or in a ghetto. But she's got this whole little mission to
educate everyone. Are you grateful for that, Barbie?"
I was convinced that he was going to end his speech by beating me. The
question was a relief, so I answered it. "Yes."
"Well, you should be. Because she's all that's keeping me from having
absolute power over you. And this is another point that Lillianna
makes, about absolute power. She was saying that whenever one person
finds that they have absolute power over another person, it's just a
matter of time before he starts treating the other guy like shit. No
matter how nice or civilized he was before, eventually he just starts
abusing the other guy.
"And I believe that. So you're lucky, because right now I'm going to
take what I can get. And right now, I'm going to get you to fear me.
I'm going to get you to respect me. Do you fear me, Barbie?"
I definitely did, but I didn't know whether to admit it. My hesitation
was too much for him, because he struck me firmly across the face.
Quickly, I said. "Yes, yes I fear you." My voice was weak and rasping.
He smiled and flared his nostrils. "Do you respect me?"
I knew what to say time. "Yes, Antonio, I respect you."
"Then you'll obey me, right?"
"Uh, yes?" What did he mean by this? That's when I saw him stand up,
unzip his fly, and remove from his trousers his penis, limp but still
large in his hand.
"Your eyes get so wide when you look at my cock, Barbie. Do you want to
suck it?"
I had no answer; I was almost paralyzed with fear by this hulking man
who seemed on the verge of a psychotic rage.
"Well, you can't, you horny little girl. But I want you to smell it.
Smell it, Barbie." And he pressed his limp but flaccid penis up against
my nose. Terrified, I breathed in deeply. "What does it smell like,
Barbie?"
Again I hesitated, though the smell was unmistakable, and again he
slapped me hard across the face. "What does it smell like, Barbie? Tell
me what it smells like."
"It smells like pussy, Antonio."
"Whose pussy, Barbie?"
"Like - like Lillianna's pussy."
"Why does it smell like Lillianna's pussy?"
"I - I don't know. Because you've been sleeping with her?"
"That's right, Barbie, because I've been sleeping with her. Because
I've been fucking her. And who hasn't been fucking her?"
I knew what he wanted to hear, but I was in a panic of despair as I
said it. "I'm not fucking her."
"And why not?"
"Be-because - because of a lot of reasons."
He slapped me. "There's only one reason that matters: because you're
Barbie. Right?"
What the fuck? "Right." I said what he wanted me to. He was huge and
free, I was skinny, weak, and taped to a bed.
"Say it. Say it all."
"I'm not fucking her because I'm Barbie."
"Exactly." He gave a sly laugh and pressed his cock back up into my
nose. "You're not fucking her, Barbie. Instead, you're smelling her
pussy juices off of the cock of the man who is. You know what, why
don't you thank me for the privilege."
"Thank you, Antonio."
"For what? For the chance to smell Lilliana's pussy, or the chance to
smell my cock."
I had to guess. "Your cock?"
He laughed, hard this time. He reached for a syringe, and began to give
me a shot. "You know, you're so ugly I had to get drunk just to think
about putting my cock near your nasty face. But I have a feeling you're
going to turn into a pretty hot slut."
As he left, I collapsed back into sleep.
When I next emerged, it was only to a half-waking state. I was being
pushed around awkwardly on my bed; I realized I was being dressed. The
light in the room was hanging from the ceiling, lower than my head when
I stood, and in the commotion it was swinging around, adding to my
disorientation. I couldn't tell how many people there were in the room;
they were sweeping me along like secret service agents after the
president's been shot. I felt that sense of panic. And then we were in
a hallway that seemed as if it had the sun for its lighting. I kept
shutting my eyes tightly and then opening them. Then we were out in the
even brighter day, and in a car.
My panic gave way to a drugged calm as I settled into my seat, the low
hum of the road below soothing me. I turned my head slowly to the left
to see Lillianna driving, and in the back seat Antonio. I turned
forward again. It didn't occur to me to say anything.
After a time Lillianna spoke, her words sounding slow but paradoxically
almost too quick for me to understand. I mean that the words sounded
slow but my mind felt slower. "Tom, can you understand me?"
I waited a moment to think about my answer. "Yes."
"Jesus, Antonio, I think we gave him too much. He's pretty slow."
"It'll be okay by the time we get there. If it isn't, drive around a
few extra minutes."
Lillianna took a while to speak again. "Tom, we're going to your
lawyer's, and then to the dean of the faculty. You've got to give me
power of attorney over you and your uh estate, if that's the right
word."
Pause. "Okay." Pause again. "Why?"
"Because I'm going to sell your things to pay for the surgery you're
getting, remember, it was part of the deal."
"Okay."
"And we're going to get you a sabbatical."
"What?"
"A sabbatical, for the next year."
"Why?"
"So that you can go to college, remember. Without losing your job,
necessarily."
"Okay."
"Jesus, Tom, you sound like shit."
"I do?"
"Yes, but it's okay. Really, it works to our advantage, considering the
story we're going to tell. Do you want to know the story we're going to
tell?"
"I guess."
"Good, because you'll need to agree with me. This is the story: you've
just been diagnosed with a rare form of bone cancer, which has
metastasized early but left you outwardly healthy. You have a year,
maybe eighteen months to live, with a very small chance of survival.
You're devastated and in shock. You want to spend the last months of
your life in adventure, so you're leaving the college and selling your
belongings to finance everything."
"Uh."
"Don't worry about the details. I'll do most of the talking, on the
grounds that you're so upset that you don't want to handle everything.
You just have to agree clearly to everything I suggest. Can you do
that?"
"I guess so."
"Then let's go over the story. What have you been diagnosed with?"
"Cancer?"
"I can see we're going to need to review this a few times. Let's get
started. It's bone cancer. Repeat that for me."
We continued in this way for the rest of the drive to the lawyer's.
Antonio waited while we went in. The actual meeting went without
incident; Lillianna was well prepared. She had documents and affidavits
of various kinds from doctors. They made a conference call to a doctor
to confirm the diagnosis; I thought the voice might have been
Gambeaux's, but I couldn't tell for sure. I spoke little, but enough to
convince the lawyer of my intent.
On the way out I used the bathroom, and there saw myself for the first
time. Lillianna was right: I did look like shit. A week's growth of
facial hair, red puffiness around my eyes, a drooping face. They had
dressed me in a pair of khakis and a turtleneck that obscured the
bandaging around my neck. I looked every bit the psychological wreck,
and I suppose I was one, though not for the reasons we were claiming.
We went next to the dean, a man with whom I had never been very
friendly; in truth there were not many faculty members who were
friendly with him, nor many who were friendly with me. Still, he seemed
genuinely concerned when he heard my story, and quickly assured me that
he would arrange for a sabbatical without requiring me to meet with the
administration any further. I told him that I was due to board a plane
for Mexico within the week, which was my own invention and seemed to
please Lillianna. There was an uncomfortable silence, an awkward
goodbye, and soon Lillianna and I were back in the car with Antonio,
driving off.
Our destination was Lillianna's house. We sat in her living room
without speaking. They seemed to be waiting for something. I was still
calm from the drug they had given me, though this had cleared
significantly since I had first left the hospital, to the point that I
was beginning to realize how artificial my calm was. As it dissipated,
panic and anger began to take its place, and I became aware of pain in
my groin and around my neck.
Perhaps seeing this, Lillianna said, "Antonio, we shouldn't wait any
longer."
"I guess not," he replied.
He got up and left the room by a door to my right, while Lillianna
stayed staring at me. To this point I had been silent because of the
drug; now I was silent simply because no one had said anything for so
long, and everything was so strange. The normal rules of life seemed to
be in suspension, and I had no idea whether a question would prompt
violence or kindness.
In any case I got a little violence. Without warning there has a heavy
hand on my head; it was Antonio pushing me face down onto the couch.
"Gently, now, Antonio," said Lillianna.
"I'm being as gentle as I can. He's weak, but he's still a very tall
man. You can't just toss them around."
My face was now smothered into the couch. Antonio grabbed one wrist,
and snapped something around it, then the other. I was handcuffed. He
pulled me up to a sitting position.
"What the fuck," I yelled, but this did little, as I quickly had a
blindfold to go along with my cuffs. "What the fuck is going on?"
Antonio slapped me from behind with a broad, open palm, but I refused
to be silent. This was finally too much - I was coming back to sanity
now, my mind sharpening, and all I could think about was the total
arbitrariness of everything that had happened to me. Reason seemed to
be suspended, my self-control was absolutely gone, I had no idea what
was being done to me and less of what was going to be done. I erupted
into a string of rambling questions, full of despair. I was less asking
Lillianna, let alone Antonio, and more imploring a God that I had never
believed in. I realized I was weeping.
I don't know what they said to me in response, but Antonio bound my
legs together with something, and laid me out on the couch. Someone
turned a stereo on, the volume loud enough to drown me out, and I don't
know how much time passed because soon exhaustion quieted me, and I
fell asleep despite the wailing music.
When I woke the music was off, and Lillianna was gently waking me. "I'm
sorry, Tom, that it's been like this so far. I want you to know that
immediately, that I'm sorry we haven't explained everything better to
you. I want you to understand what's going on, now. I want to explain.
Will you let me explain? I'm sorry."
Her voice was so soothing, the first real kindness I'd had in what
seemed an eternity, the first voice of sanity I'd heard without being
drugged and insane myself. "Okay. Okay, yes. Please, let's talk."
She helped me to sit up, and took the blindfold from my face. "I have
to leave the cuffs on, but I'll explain that, too, if you'll let me.
Don't get panicked quite yet.
"First, how are you feeling?"
I didn't know how to begin to answer this question; so much was wrong.
But I tried: "Terrible, honestly. So awful. I'm confused; I don't know
what's going on. I feel like I just had a nightmare that lasted a
week."
"You did, in a way. Being drugged for a week is not pleasant."
"Then why did you do it. Why have I been tied up, drugged, not told
where I was or what was happening?"
She paused. "Tom, you have to understand that right now, I and the
people who have agreed to help me are in a very weak position, and my
first responsibility is to them. Right now, if you went to the police,
or if you were even discovered, we would all lose our careers and go to
jail, not just you."
"I'm admitting this to you because you're smart. You would have figured
this out. During this part of the experiment, you could have
blackmailed us back, and forced us to let you go. Do you understand
that?"
I thought about it for a minute. "Yeah, you're right."
"That's most of your explanation. That forced us to take extreme
precautions, and it will continue to do so, until we've reached a
certain stage at which we will be able to avoid all prosecution. Some
of those precautions have been our treatment of you: keeping you bound,
sedated, unable to speak. Others have had to do with your surroundings;
that's why we had to operate on you in a makeshift secret room in the
back of a storage area in the basement of the hospital. And keep you
there. It's amazing that they were able to perform the surgery at all."
My eyes widened. The pain in my groin! "What surgery?"
"Your Adam's apple was shaved, and your penis replaced with a pussy."
My whole torso was stabbed with a flash of panic and shock.
"Relax, relax."
"Fuck relaxing, I want to see."
"Well, you can't, not yet. The bandages aren't ready to come off, and
won't be for some time."
"Oh Jesus, oh fucking God, what the fuck am I doing?"
"You said yes to this. You made the choice."
"Why did I say yes? And you, what do you mean 'choice'? I had no choice
- it was this or lose my life, and now this is insane, insanity, do you
realize?"
"You keep saying that this is insane. But it's not; it's a measured
response to a crime, a breach of morality, that you committed."
"Oh come the fuck off of it, Lillianna, it wasn't rape. You know that
this 'punishment' exceeds the crime I've committed."
Lillianna's eyes flashed with anger. "Oh really, Tom? If what you did
was exposed to society, the repercussions for you would have been much
worse, much fucking worse. And that's why you agreed to this, because
you saw that this was less punishment than the accepted alternative.
What you don't seem to realize, Tom, is that you're being let off
easily, that you're being given a chance to learn rather than to
suffer. You don't even seem to want to accept that you raped a girl,
that what you did was wrong!"
"It wasn't rape -"
She held a finger in front of her fiery face. "Not one more word on
this topic. I guess I also forgot that this was to teach you, that the
whole point of this was to show you something that words couldn't, to
overcome a failure in your ability to empathize."
"So one more word and I'll just beat the shit out of you for fun. Do
you want to speak?"
I decided I didn't.
She said, "You know, you really test me. I'm trying to be patient,
trying to be scientific and supportive of you as you go through this
process. I don't want you to suffer more than you have to, but you
can't spend five conscious minutes without pissing me the fuck off.
Now, I have serious things to discuss with you, and I can't be angry at
you while I'm doing it. So I'm going to leave you here for a moment
while I calm down. If you make any noise, I'll have Antonio gag you. Do
you want to be gagged?"
"No, I'll keep quiet."
"Good."
And she left me to my thoughts. It was funny how well she understood
certain parts of me while being totally oblivious to others. On the
side of obliviousness: I was not a rapist, something which her scorned
love blinded her to - but this is a point I've made. But she was right
to explain to me the strategy of her game. That I could appreciate. I
understood the druggings, the secrecy, the quiet, the midnight visits
from Antonio. I was near a position of power from which she had to keep
me. I was to find that my panic and fear and anger at my treatment were
to give way to anger and loathing at being beaten. They had so far
outplayed me in our competition. Well, they had a head start, and had
so far kept me from having a chance. But eventually I would have
control again, and then they would see that I could bend the rules,
too.
My reverie was interrupted by Lillianna coming back in.
"Now, we have surgery to discuss." My thoughts raced back to my cock -
gone! This was a continual shock to me, a recurring sense of despair.
It was impossible not to be surprised by the thought that it was gone,
no matter how many times it returned.
"So far you've had two of the procedures mandated by the terms of this
experiment. In the next battery of procedures you will receive the rest
of them, but you may also receive any additional surgeries you'd like.
Do you want any?"
So surreal. "Remind me of the basics."
"You'll have your hands and feet reduced in size, electrolysis on most
of your body, and breast implants to an A cup. You'll also be getting
some basic hormonal shots to downregulate your male hormones and
upregulate those more prevalent in women."
"Breasts." I was becoming dead to the absurdity of it all.
"Yes, breasts. You might want them larger - girls with bigger breasts
have more friends in college."
"Fuck that. What else is optional?"
"Well, you have very fine features for such a tall man, but your face
is unmistakably male. The electrolysis will make it believable that
you're a woman, but not totally convincing. Cosmetic surgery?"
"No way. I want my face back when this is over. I don't need to be
pretty for this nonsense."
"Liposuction? Rib removal for a narrower waist? Fat transplants for a
larger bottom? A more aggressive hormonal schedule?"
"No, no, and no. I want to remain me as much as possible."
"Fine. If you change your mind at a later stage, you can always come
back for more."
I was downright hostile at this point. "Whatever. Are we done with this
little conversation?"
"Yes, we are. Antonio?"
Again he had slipped in the room without my knowing it. There was an
arm around my chest, holding me against the couch, and a prick at my
neck. The world was fading.
"See you again in a while, Tom," said Lillianna.
Next Chapter: Tom undergoes another round of surgery, and goes on a
trip to Mexico
Nanette
- 29.10.2022
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