Doc's Complex 26 - The Suite Explored free porn video
Doc's Complex 26 - The Suite Explored
by Lee Most
Copyright 2012 by Lee Most
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Synopsis:
Chapter 25 of the FMNaNoWriMo challenge novel "Doc's Complex," in which
Aliceputs on his first nightgown, we get to see more of the sci-fi home
life of the Girls, and Pixxie tries to [Oh no! I broke a nail!] Categories
and key words describe only this chapter. I'm concentrating on writing
now, so I won't edit mistakes or respond to any reviews until December.
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Chapter 26 - The Suite Explored
The suite had the huge living room, a kitchen large enough for several
cooks to work at once without getting in each other's ways, a Changing
Room with a different machine for each kind of change, and eight bedrooms.
Several of the boys and Girls had paired up, and so they shared beds and
bedrooms, but others got their own rooms. A doorway could take you
literally anywhere, so when new doorways became visible and active between
two existing doorways, perhaps the new rooms were in the adjacent suite,
or perhaps they were in another part of the world entirely. It did not
matter. To the inhabitants it seemed like they all shared the same suite.
Alice and Keela went to her room, took a bath and put on sleepwear.
Keela was used to sleeping in lingerie, but Alice had never worn it
before, or even seen it in real life before.
"I know a lot of the women in the pictures Will had wore filmy stuff like
this, but my mom and sister only ever wore cotton nightgowns. I never even
felt anything like this."
He fingered the thin material, feeling how soft and smooth the fabric was.
"There should be a new word for this," he said. "The word 'fabric' seems
so coarse and rough."
Keela smiled as she pulled her nightgown over her head. "What would you
suggest?"
"I don't know. Liquid feathers, or soft air, or flexible light. It's so
wonderful!"
"See? And you thought there wasn't anything good about being turned into a
girl. I bet you'd feel pretty embarrassed wearing something like that if
you still looked like a boy."
Alice [Oh no! My nail is breaking, and it just got longer than one and a
quarter inches. Drat!] said, "I can't believe you are still trying to
convince me that being this way here with you is better than my old life
out there in the Real World."
Keela, who was about as able to hide her emotions as an excited cat is
able to stop its tail from moving, which is to say not at all, sniffed,
"You mean, your heart is set on going back? You don't like it here?"
[It's too hard to type with my nail this way. I'm going to have to repair
it. This should be fun. Everything has to dry or set up, so I can write
while I'm waiting. First, file off the old gel and layers of polish with
an 80 grit nail file down to my bare nail, then smooth the nail surface
with a 400 grit file. Then clean and dehydrate my natural nail, and use a
lint-free applicator to put on a coat of Angel Love Protein Primer and let
it dry. The primer makes the gel nails form a chemical bond with my
natural nail so I don't have to roughen up my own nail.]
"Silly girl! My lovely wonderful Keela! You've got it backwards: my heart
is set on staying here with you! I love science fiction, and this place is
more like any science fiction world than any place I've ever read about or
saw on TV. I love looking at beautiful women, and here even the men look
like beautiful women. I love you, and this is where you live. I love
everything about this place! Why would I ever want to leave?"
[The primer is dry, so brush on a thin coat of Angel Love Gel Nails Base,
cure for 1 minute under ultraviolet light, then a thicker coat, flash a
few times, and cure for 3 minutes. "Flashing" means hold gel-covered nail
under the UV light for half a second, then remove it for about ten
seconds. The exothermic chemical reaction of a thick layer of liquid gel
hardening in reaction to UV light can create so much heat that it can burn
my finger unless I use the flash technique to start the reaction going a
little at a time.]
He examined the almost transparent light blue garment to figure out which
way was up and how to put it on. It had two layers attached at the
neckline, a pair of ribbons attached in the center of the front, or maybe
it was the back. It had no bra cups to provide a clue as to where the
front was. The long, see-through sleeves had an elastic wrist band, and
more material beyond that created loose, flared ends to the sleeves.
[After curing, file the uneven parts of the cured gel to a perfect curve
and add some A.L. "Natural French" white gel to the part beyond the nail
bed, cure for 1 minute -- or longer since I want to get some writing
done.]
He put the nightie on with the ribbons in back, figuring he could turn it
the other way if he guessed wrong, and found that he had guessed right. It
had been designed to accommodate breasts as enormous as his. The satin
ribbons, as strong as steel cables, supported his masses when he tied them
together under them. They [Just put on a second coat of white.] held his
breasts as firmly as that industrial strength bra he'd found when he'd
looked through the clothing dispenser catalog after wearing that
inadequate bikini top.
His hypersensitive breasts had been giving him ecstatic orgasms every six
minutes before, but he had figured out that he could stop them from moving
as much with a bra that had extra-firm cups. It worked. With that bra on,
he had gotten them down to only one every ten minutes.
[File little bumps smooth, apply thin coat of A.L. "Romance" red with
purple highlights and cure while I write some more. If I was patient and
waited for the liquid gel to settle a bit, it would smooth itself out
before I cured it, and I could save time. I would not need to file so
much.]
He tested his new nightie by jumping up and down and swiveling to left and
right from his waist. "Good," he thought, "my breasts only move a little
bit. Now I have to change my panties." He paused and thought, "I can't
believe I am actually thinking phrases like 'my breasts,' and 'I have to
change my panties'!"
He pulled down the panties with the thin, rubbery goo that somehow
absorbed his bulky male genitals and made his panties as flat as a
woman's. The goo even took the form of a woman's vulva on the side facing
the cloth of the panty, giving the impression that he was female down
there. He had no idea what happened to his male parts when it penetrated
the surface of the goo, but he could not feel a thing from them, nor did
he have to use a toilet while he had panties on with the stuff covering
the insides.
[Last coat of gel! Apply a thick coat of A.L. "Builder Finish," and remind
self to let it sit for a while until mirror smooth, then flash and cure it
for 3 minutes to make sure it's really hard. One of the nice things about
gel nails is that you can play with it as much as you want to get it just
the way you want it, and only cure it when you have it right.]
He was about to transfer the rubbery goo from the green panties he'd worn
to go dancing into the new light blue ones that came with the baby doll
pajamas when Keela stopped him.
"No, don't use the Negator in your baby doll nightie's panties, Alice. You
should let the little thing come out and play with us."
"So that's what the rubbery goo is called, a 'Negator.' It's a good name.
I couldn't feel a thing Down There," he thought, but aloud he said, "Oh,
you mean Little Al!"
Neither of them knew about Doc's experiment regarding Alice's breasts, or
Essa's hypothesis that making his breasts so sensitive that they became a
powerful erogenous zone by themselves, and then keeping his male sex
organs negated, that Alice's subconscious mind would eventually expect all
of his sexual satisfaction to come from his breasts while also forgetting
that his male organs could do anything more than get in the way when not
being used to urinate.
[My nail looks like a nail again, and I don't have to worry about it
breaking for another three weeks! Yay!]
Indeed, when Alice pulled on his panties and saw the unfeminine bulge, his
first thought was "Gee, that looks awfully unsightly! Maybe I can hide it
between my legs." After ten hours in the Negator goo, the rush of sudden
sensation to that area of his body felt more like a painful irritation
than a welcome return of feeling. Completely limp, it was easy for him to
squeeze his balls up inside his body cavity and press his wet noodle
between his legs. "Now it looks right, but it feels damn uncomfortable! I
can't wait to stick it back in that goo, that Negator again."
He got into bed and Keela slid under the covers on top of him. Showing no
inclination at all towards pulling down his panties, she concentrated on
his breasts and brought him to climax, then got him to finger her to an
orgasm, brought him over the edge again, sat so he could use his tongue on
her without lifting his head, leaned back to lie on his boobs while she
manipulated their sides until he was singing opera again, and then she had
him use one of the phallic vibrators in her bedside collection to satisfy
her twice more while her squirming and writhing set him off as well.
His experience that morning with her riding his cock had been so dull, so
flat compared to when his breasts were involved that he was secretly glad
she did not ask him to use his own phallus again.
Besides, she liked her sex toys, and obviously enjoyed playing with and
stimulating every aspect that was female about his new curves. Since that
morning, she had methodically stroked and teased every square inch of his
skin and he'd discovered that this body had erogenous zones in the most
unlikely places besides his breasts. There was a little spot just below
his hairline on the back of his neck that made him shiver every time she
touched it. Stroking the sides of his neck made him light-headed, and
nibbling either of his small ears had the same effect as squeezing one of
his enormous boobs. When she tickled the sensitive areas of his waist any
other time, he only laughed at being tickled, but when he was aroused,
those same spots became place she could tickle to add an extra decibel or
two to the noise he made during an orgasm, Not the soft insides, but the
outsides of his thighs and calves sent thrills right up to his ears when
she lightly stroked them, and moans of pleasure erupted from him when she
massaged the bottoms of his feet with very heavy pressure.
Compared to any of those sources of exquisite elation, the diminished
pleasure from his male genitals made them hardly worth either Keela's or
his attention.
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Somewhere else in the Complex, Essa jumped in the air and clicked her
heels when she saw the two of them make love without either even touching
Alice's panties.
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Pixxie wanted to help everyone to be happier.
She knew in a far corner of her mind that she had once been a man named
Tom, and that some of these people despised her for that, but every other
part of her told her that these people had rescued her from Tom's almost
continuous rape, torture, humiliation, and mutilation.
The Changing Machine was supposed to have erased all of that, but Tom was
still there in that corner of her mind, watching her, leering at her,
mocking every attempt she tried to be a whole, complete person who had
never known him because he did not exist.
The people who did not avoid her, like that nice Wren who had given her a
name, were very friendly. She would start by trying to make them happy.
She was as much a newcomer to Doc's Complex as the "boys" were, so she
paid attention when Charlettia gave them all her tour of the apartment and
its amenities.
[I want to play with my new nail some more. Gel nails last a long time,
but they also make the perfect base for nail polish! First coat of China
Glaze "Pool Party" neon pink nail liqueur going on now. Here's a trick: if
you know you'll be putting on lots of coats, don't apply the first two or
three all the way to the edges, especially don't let it get near your
cuticles. Just put the last coat of color on the couple of millimeters of
nail near your cuticles, and apply as thin a layer of top coat as you can
around there as well. That way the polish will feather out to a thin edge
and there won't be a big, annoying ridge of dried polish there in a week
when your nail grows out.]
Besides being the victim of most of his sadistic games, Pixxie had always
been Tom's servant, seamstress, gardener, cook, housekeeper, and every
other menial task he could think up. Because he had put her into so many
different fantasies, she had worked as a fruit seller, a flower girl, a
beautician, a checkout girl in a supermarket, a waitress, the greeter at a
country club, grade school teacher, a receptionist; she had worked at
every low-paying job a woman could work, but she could not find anything
here that would make use of any of her skills. Every new feature
Charlettia mentioned seemed designed to close the door to an opportunity
for Pixxie to make herself useful, to do something for these people who
had done so much for her.
"I cooked for Tom every day," she said to herself as they went into the
kitchen. "Perhaps I can cook meals here."
Then Charlettia pointed out the food dispenser, the Auto-Cooker, the
drinks dispenser, and other features of the fully-automated kitchen that
could supply everything from a banquet to gourmet snacks at the touch of a
few buttons. "If you don't want to bother programming your meal,"
Charlettia said, "ask Doc and he'll do it for you so you can go do
something more useful with your time."
"I think making a good meal was a very useful way to spend my time,"
thought Pixxie as the group left the kitchen.
"Look at all the clothes they have," thought Pixxie. "I can sew, I like
doing laundry, I even like ironing. I could be their maid and seamstress."
Charlettia, however, showed them how they could order new clothes in every
bedroom's dressing room, how clothes that were worn or dirty would sink
into the floor after being tossed into any corner, and told them all how
clothes they wanted to keep would instantly adjust in size whenever they
did. "Think of all the time you'll save, so you can be productive in much
more satisfying ways," Charlettia commented as she led them out of the
dressing room.
"But taking care of their clothes would be satisfying for me," Pixxie
pouted at the perpetually neat dressing room.
"Every woman's nightmare," Charlettia said, gesturing at the dozens of
bottles, tubes, jars, compacts, brushes, spritzers, and other things
scattered over the makeup table in the bedroom. [The first coat of pink is
dry; applying the second coat now.] "Not here!" She swept it all off the
table and they watched it melt into the floor. "That stuff is for
beginners to practice with. This is a makeup dispenser. It will also
dispense any gadgets you may want to use in your bedroom, or in bed.
Remember that thing in the Changing Room that gave you all the same basic
eye-cheek-lip makeup? That thing is primitive. Order yourself one of
these." She sat at the table, entered things into the keyboard, and showed
them where it was in the catalog, and pressed "Deliver."
A second later, the door opened on the box at the end of the table and
something rolled out that looked like a mask on a stand with a computer
keyboard under it.
"It's creator called it the FaceMaker, and I keep hoping someone else will
come up with a better name for it. It will do anything you can imagine,
and a lot more you can't. It will also undo any makeup, leaving your face
and skin so clean it glows. When you have a look you like, you can assign
it one or two letters or numbers, so you don't have to set it up again. I
assigned this one to the letter P for Perfect." She then tapped the P, and
the mask changed color. Charlettia pressed her face into the mask and a
second later she turned away from it to face the group.
Everyone oohed and aahed. Her face had changed in only a second from
merely beautiful to spectacular! "And yet," noticed with not a little
confusion, "she doesn't look like she's wearing makeup at all. She looks
somehow even more like herself than she did before. Even when I worked at
a beauty salon, I could never have done something like that!" [I'm putting
on a third coat of "Pool Party" pink. I like the color to be so opaque
that my real nail is invisible under it.] Pixxie sighed, "There goes my
idea to be a beautician to all these beautiful women."
The apartment had its own Changing Room, but nothing like one where the
men had met the Girls. These Changing Machines were smaller, newer, and
more specialized. One Changed only waists, another feet and calves,
another thighs, knees, calves, and hips. The one for breasts was a chair
with a couple of things that looked like spotlights pointing at where the
chest of a person would be when seated. The room was huge, and Changing
Machines for every part of the body lined all the walls and more stood in
the center of the room, leaving only a narrow aisle between them all. A
device with a slot for each hand could provide a perfect manicure in
seconds. Another device could change any aspect of your hair from length,
to color, to curliness, to style in a minute or two,
Following at the back of the pack, Pixxie pondered, "I could at least dust
and keep their home clean and tidy." Pixxie thought of the French maid's
uniform Tom had repeatedly made her wear when cleaning his mansion. "I
could order one and I could wear it for these people when I'm cleaning and
tidying up, not because I have to, but because I want to!"
But Charlettia showed them how the floors, counters, and tables cleaned
themselves, absorbing dust and spills, teleporting dirty dishes and
glasses away to something called Central Stores. As for clutter, most of
the objects the various dispensers created were temporary, and would
automatically teleport back to Central Stores when they were no longer
needed. "If you want something you order to be a permanent object,"
Charlettia said, "you simply say where in the suite it should be stored,
and then it will go there after you use it instead of to Central Stores.
If you forget and try to order something you already have, the dispenser
will remind you where it is stored and ask if you need another one."
Again and again, Pixxie's desire to help with her skills was thwarted. All
common chores had been eliminated. Robots tended the beautiful gardens,
and even such a personal and delicate task as drawing a lady's bath to
exactly the right temperature and adding just the right mixture of oils
and perfumes simply required asking Doc to teleport it into your bathtub.
And when it teleported away, not even a bathtub ring remained to be
cleaned afterwards. The bidets in the bathrooms that washed, rinsed and
dried your nether regions made changing toilet paper a task of the past.
When Charlettia finished her tour, everyone thanked her and paired up, or
went to their rooms, or went into the kitchen area to get something to
eat, and Pixxie went outside, sat on a bench and cried.
She cried for her lost career as a victim of Tom, cried for her inability
to do anything that could not be done better by machines, or by automatic
teleportation systems so advanced that she had no idea how such things
could even be possible. She cried for the loss of a purpose to live, and
when she had run out of the things to cry about, she just cried because
she was sad.
Someone sat down next to her, a woman about her size, with breasts as
equally, impossibly gigantic. She put her arms around Pixxie and drew her
head onto her bosom and made comforting noises until her sobs quieted.
"There, there honey. Let it out. That's right. You've been holding it all
in for so long, haven't you? Crying is good for you. It all seems so
unfair sometimes. You've done everything you could. You tried your best,
didn't you?"
Eventually, Pixxie was done. She sniffed and finally looked at her
comforter.
She was a stranger. She had a very pretty face, with pinkish-purple eyes,
purplish-pink hair, and she wore a similarly-colored form-hugging t-shirt
that went down to her knees, and matching shoes with heels a good seven
inches high on her very long, but narrow feet.
[I want to add an extra dimension, so I'm getting out the Nina Ultra Pro
"Pink Frost" sheer pink with purple frost. It's a bit old, so I'm shaking
it for a good half a minute by the clock. Don't worry about bubbles from
shaking nail polish too much, by the way; it's not like soapy water. If
you get bubbles in your polish, they are either dust particles, or solvent
that could not escape the surface by evaporation. The latter usually don't
show up until hours later or even the next day, and they probably mean you
should change nail polishes or whatever you're using for a top coat. Here
comes the first coat of Pink Frost, and after this many layers, I'm
waiting at least ten minutes before I put on another coat.]
"Who are you? You match the sky."
The stranger looked up and laughed. "I didn't think of that! I like this
color, so I thought I'd wear it today. Yesterday I wore royal blue all
over. I guess it's a phase. That's what kids go through, right? Well, I'm
a kid in a way; I was born yesterday."
"Yesterday?" Pixie repeated. "You look fully grown. Wouldn't you be a baby
if you were born yesterday?"
"You din't come from here, did you?" the pinkish-purple Girl said. "If you
did, you'd know that Doc hates babies and little kids." She thought about
that, and added, "And big kids. And young teenagers. And men. And people
who look old. And people who aren't beautiful, and, um, stupid people. Oh,
and flat-chested people."
Pixie laughed for the first time. "Maybe you really are two days old! Yes,
I heard that Doc wants everyone in the world to be a beautiful,
intelligent, buxom, sexy woman. I guess I never looked at the other side
of that coin. You still haven't told me your name."
"Oh! Sorry. My Moms are chemists, and they named me Glycerin. I guess they
hoped I'd be sweet and useful. I like your hair."
[Last coat of Pink Frost, and some Seche Vite Dry Fast Top coat on top of
that after about a minute. Seche Vite goes on over wet polish--Well, not
so wet that it smears by dragging a brush across it--and bonds to the
layers of polish below. It dries hard in about 3 minutes, but with this
many layers, I usually wait an extra 5 minutes before I trust it.]
"Hi, Glycerin. I'm Pixxie, and I like YOUR hair, and you're right. I did
not come from here, at least not that I can remember. Huh." Pixxie stopped
talking and considered her existence, how she came to be here, who Tom had
been, and a bunch of other things that did not at first seem related, but
maybe were. She said, "You know what? I think I need to know more about
being born yesterday. You seem to be my age. Do you have childhood
memories, and if so, where did they come from?"
"They come from Doc, I guess. Everyone in the Complex is only a figment of
his imagination, after all, right? So when I needed people in my past who
I grew up with, Doc linked up my mind with people who would have been
around where I was supposed to be, and we both rem'ber playing together,
or babysitting, or in the case of my Moms, a whole lot of parenting stuff.
While my mind is getting a full set of memories, my body is growing really
fast, and when it turns eighteen, I get to choose what I want to look
like. I saw you from way over there, and your body looked like mine, so I
came over to see if we had anything else in common. When I got here, you
were crying, and I figured I'd do the glycerin thing my Moms wanted. I
tried to be sweet and useful."
Pixxie said, "You were. You are. And you know what? I think I might have
been born about an hour ago." She blushed. "I thought I was all grown up,
but maybe I'm not a grown-up as I thought, and if you're a day older than
me, then maybe we're not so far apart as I first thought. Would you be
friends with me?"
"Would I? I'd be BEST friends with you, Pixxie! We could ask Doc. Would
you like to remember us growing up together?"
Pixxie had thought there were no more tears left, but now found she was
wrong about that. Remember growing up here, with Glycerin as her best
friend instead of being a victim again and again of Tom's cruel and
sadistic fantasies? That would be heaven!
Tears of happiness flowed down her cheeks and a big lump in her throat
made it hard for her to talk, so she smiled a silly, smile with her
gigantic mouth and nodded. The two girls hugged, their enormous boobs
squashing sideways, up, and down so they could get closer, and they
giggled and laughed like the children they had never been. Then, together,
the girl with the gold hair and the Girl with the purplish-pink hair held
hands, looked at each other, looked up, and said, "Doc?"
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To Be Continued!
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Afterword for Chapter 26
Yes, I really did break a nail, and yes, that is what I did to rebuild it
and make it pretty again. I thought it would be an amusing way to break up
a kind of heavy chapter.
I'm writing this novel as part of the 2012 NaNoWriMo challenge to write a
novel of at least 50,000 words between November 1st and 30th. I intend to
post a chapter a day during November. (For more info about National Novel
Writing Month, see www.NaNoWriMo.org.)
By the way, if you like to write and can't resist improving this story
with extra characters or new adventures or situations for the existing
characters, go ahead! You also have my permission to write your own
stories using this world as a setting. Please post your versions on
FictionMania. To avoid confusion, add a letter to the number of modified
chapters, like "Doc's Complex 26a", and make up a new title. For new
stories, please include the words "Doc's Complex" so fans of that universe
(I know there's at least one -- me!) can find them. Who knows? If enough
people do it, FictionMania may add a new category!
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Alma
- 17.11.2022
- 13
- 0
- Category:
- Humor
Doc s Complex 28 Living Together
- 1 year ago
- 11
- 0
Doc s Complex 04 Fun With Changing Machines
- 1 year ago
- 17
- 0
