The Company: Part 1 Of 2 free porn video

Summary: This story is written in two parts. Part 1 consists of Chapters 1-5 which mostly covers betrayal, and the beginning of the involuntary changes. Part 2 continues with Chapters 6-8 which continues the dramatic changes and concludes the story, at least for now... ?? Let me know if you spot any errors, and enjoy! -Mandie Chapter 1: The Betrayal I didn't normally stay in hotels without my wife, but tonight I had no other option. My wife had caught me being "serviced" by the office mail room girl, or as my wife called her "that sorority slut bimbo". She probably wasn't far off. Jane (the aforementioned bimbo), was a sweet girl, but she was also obsessed with sex. Around the rest of the office she was polite and reserved but every so often she'd come into my private office, close the door, and run over and practically rip open my slacks. It was like she needed it. It was easy for me to succumb to her desires. My wife, Lisa, hadn't shown that kind of interest since our honeymoon. We had boring vanilla sex maybe once a month. So when Jane came knocking, I wasn't about to turn her down. Then one day my wife had come to the office to complain about... Something. Jane had always locked the door in the past, but this time she apparently had forgotten, because in stormed Lisa. I had been leaning back as Jane knelt in front of me, furiously stroking my cock with her manicured hands, while she held the head of my cock inside her soft mouth. Her bright red hair pulled back in a high ponytail with curls at the end. I was amazed that a 19-year-old intern had already developed such skills but had no interest in questioning it. Her 4-inch Stiletto heels stuck out on the other side of the desk and I could still see down her unbuttoned blouse which framed two round mounds that were showcased by a push-up bra. Right as I was about to climax, the door opened and there stood Lisa. An attractive woman in her prime, she was now a frightening image as a scowl came across her face. She was involved in medical sales or something, so the occasional use of Botox limited her facial reactions a bit. But I knew. I quickly withdrew my cock from Jane's mouth, hoping to zip up and save some dignity. But it was too late. Jane's suction on my cock as I pulled it out, sent me over the edge and I immediately ejaculated. Unfortunately for Jane, she hadn't moved from her position in front of me, and the semen sprayed her first in the forehead then the lips and finally on her pencil skirt. The semen ran down into her eyes but she seemed unfazed as she used her delicate fingers to wipe it away and then licked them clean. Within seconds she had consumed all of the semen that had hit her face and was working on getting what had hit her skirt. Unfortunately for me, Lisa saw every bit of it. She started screaming about how Jane was a slut and that I'm an asshole for cheating on her. That she'd make me pay. I tried to apologize but she would have none of it and stormed out. Jane apologized quietly, licked her lips one last time, buttoned her blouse and ran out the door. I zipped up and sat there stunned. I'd never wanted to be "that guy" that cheats on his wife, but I guess I was now. Lisa had cheated on me in our early years of marriage but had since been faithful, and I'd always used that as a personal excuse for my actions with Jane. Plus, Jane seemed to love anal in addition to blow jobs and my wife refused to even try it, claiming it would hurt. I realized I was again, making excuses for my actions, gathered my things and headed home, picking up some flowers on the way. I pulled in the driveway behind my wife's BMW, and carried the flowers in the front door. When I came in, my wife was hanging up the phone and I could tell she'd been crying. I spent hours trying to convince her I was sorry. That I wouldn't do it again. I mistakenly brought up her previous affair, which only made things worse. Finally, she said it. "Brian, I will forgive you and we can go back to normal, but I need you to leave tonight so we can both reflect on everything," she said. I nodded; willing to do whatever she asked. Strangely it seemed like I was agreeing less because of love, but because a divorce would be too messy and cost too much. I'd rather just stay in my boring vanilla marriage than go broke; she did make more money than me after all. "Please just get a room for the night and we'll talk again tomorrow," Lisa asked. "There's a place on Lafayette Ave that's affordable. Some of our out of town clients stay there from time to time; I have a contact there and will call in a room for you." I went upstairs to pack a night bag while she called in the reservation. I was nervous about being away from the house even for a night, but it seemed worth it. I packed some sleep clothes and an outfit for work the next day; slacks, button down and a tie. Casual Friday; no jacket needed. I put in the address to the hotel in my phone and followed the directions for the 30min it took me to arrive. A bit further than I'd like, but again, whatever Lisa wanted. I pulled in and was surprised that Lisa would get me a room at such a nice place, considering what I'd done. There was a round-a-bout leading to a valet drop-off surrounded by marble columns. I couldn't see any public parking so I figured, what the heck, and pulled up to the door. A well-dressed Valet attendant immediately got my door while another took my bag and gave it to the doorman. They gave me my valet slip and I was escorted into the lobby by the doorman. As I walked into the lobby my jaw dropped. "How had I never heard of this place before?" I thought to myself. It rivaled some of the highest-end hotels I'd been with while traveling with my wife on her work trips. "Why would she spend so much on a room for her cheating spouse?" I questioned. But again, I couldn't complain. I approached the front desk, and advised I was checking in for Brian Abernathy. "Yes sir, we've been waiting for you. Your wife called earlier and said you were on your way. Your stay will be complementary of course, as a thank you for all the business Mrs. Abernathy sends our way," the young man advised. "Wow, um. That's unexpected but thanks." I was stunned. "Absolutely. She advised to give you our best treatment, and that's what we intend to do." He smiled as he handed me my keys. The smile almost looked like a smirk but I didn't think anything of it. I thanked the young man and took the gorgeous glass elevator to my room on the 20th floor. A suite. Of course. I set my travel bag on one of the several plush velvet chairs and noticed a bottle of wine being chilled in the middle of the table. I was never one to turn down a drink, especially one that says "included at no cost, with our complements" on a note next to it. "This wasn't so bad," I thought, "maybe I should cheat more." I scoffed, feeling somewhat bad about the joke I'd just made. I didn't bother with the glasses. I took the bottle to the bed, laid down and watched some Football while I finished off the wine. "Whew this stuff must be extra strong," I uttered. I wasn't a big guy; only 5'8" and maybe 170 on a heavy day, so it didn't take a ton to get me drunk, but this stuff... I didn't get dizzy or nauseous; just started feeling sleepy and my eyes began drooping. It felt strange but also good to slip into a deep sleep and hopefully forget about the day's events, even if it was just for the night. The room was comfortable and private, the bed warm and comfortable, the wine delicious, and all finally felt right with the world. I quickly slipped into a deep slumber with a smile on my face, thinking about Jane the mail girl spreading her ass-cheeks and asking me to put it in, and looking forward to my next opportunity to do so.... Chapter 2: The Reckoning I'd fallen asleep in a hotel suite my wife had set up for me to get us some separation to reflect upon my having cheated on her. It was actually some of the most peaceful sleep I'd had in some time. Usually I was restless thinking about my co-worker Jane's tight ass and soft plump lips, while I lay next to a woman, my wife Jane, that I didn't care much for anymore. But this night was different. I felt at peace. Sometime during the night, I did have a dream that I was in a doctor's office with what seemed to be several doctors hovering over me with masks on. It was strange but didn't affect my peaceful sleep. My awakening was slow. I didn't snap awake like I normally did. It was gradual. I struggled to open my eyelids, and generally felt fatigued despite, I'm guessing, having slept at least 9 hours. Finally, I was able to get my eyes open enough to see the legs of someone in medical scrubs standing next to my bed. Startled, I forced my eyes fully open. "How the hell did someone get in my room!" I exclaimed. "Calm down Mr. Abernathy, everything is fine. You're fine. You're being taken care of," he replied. "My name is Doctor McMaster and I will be your primary caregiver during this process," he stated as he looked at me sternly. Hardly much bedside manner. "Excuse me?" I uttered. I looked around and could tell I was no longer at the hotel where I'd fallen asleep. This looked more like a hospital, or a retirement home. "Where the hell am I? I went to bed in a hotel!" I yelled. "Yes sir, I know. You are still at the hotel, just on a different floor, in a different room. I'm assuming, by your reaction, your wife did not share the details of your stay. This is not all that uncommon so I will explain what you should expect, at least for now." I was stunned. What the hell was he talking about. I wanted to go home. I was at a loss for words and before I could utter anything, the Doctor continued. "You have been admitted to one of the most prestigious rehabilitation centers in the world. We help all kinds of addicts; drugs, alcohol, food, sex, and so on. Most of our processes are proven and Federally approved. Others are... well, experimental. Your wife, Lisa, sells some of the best experimental drugs on the market today. She has offered you up as a test subject. Having grown close to Lisa over the years, professionally of course, she did share with me why she'd agreed to admit you into the program. And I can't say I blame her." I realized my jaw was dropped and closed my mouth. Finally, I yelled, "Okay what the fuck. If this is a prank it's not funny. You can shut off the cameras and let me out of here." I tried to get up from the bed but realized my legs and wrists were both strapped firmly to the bed. "The fuck...." "Mr. Abernathy, please understand that the process will be as difficult or easy as you make it, and that you have no say in the matter. Your wife has signed a document declaring you mentally unfit for society and in need of rehabilitation. You WILL undergo the treatment. End of story," he sternly stated, as if instructing a school boy to behave. "I need to get the fuck out of here you lunatic." I began thrashing and throwing my body side to side to try to break free. Unbeknownst to me, Dr. McMaster pulled the tip off a needle and slowly injected it into my arm. Within seconds, I had passed out yet again. This time when I awoke, it wasn't slow but immediate. I looked at the clock directly in front of me up on the wall. Another 12 hours had passed. And I was starving. I also had a throbbing headache near my temples. I imagine it was the hunger that had awoken me. Or maybe the headache. I looked down at my straps and realized they weren't just tightened down but padlocked. I wasn't getting out. They did have some probes hooked up to monitor my vitals, and they must have realized I'd awoken, because the door opened and Dr. McMaster entered, again, with no hint of kindness in his face. "You can't keep me captive here. Someone will know I'm missing and start asking questions," I exclaimed. "I'm sorry but no that's not going to happen. Your wife already let your work know that you've taken a leave of absence and will be out for several months if not longer. She said they seemed understanding," Dr. McMaster said. "Can I at least get some fucking food? I'm fucking starving," I asked. "Yes we will bring you a nice steak, green beans, and beverage. I caution you though; this will likely not satisfy your hunger. Also, you will need to curb your language as part of this process. It is unacceptable for the position you will be filling," he advised. "Fuck you dude. Just bring me something to eat," I muttered something about killing him, but it didn't seem to faze him. I heard a quiet sigh, and he exited the room. It seemed like I hadn't eaten in days, or weeks; that's how bad the hunger was. And the pain near my temples was still throbbing. It felt deep within my skull. Worse than the occasional migraines I used to get. Finally, after about 30minutes, Dr. McMaster returned with an orderly who was carrying a tray of food. "I'm sorry but based on your behavior so far, we can't remove your restraints, so Kyle here will be feeding you," McMaster said. "Let's go, come on I'm starving," I didn't care at this point, I just wanted to eat. "And hey why the fuck is my head hurting so bad? It's horrible. Is it the wine?" McMaster chuckled; the first sign of emotion I'd seen from him. "No Brian, it's not the wine. It's the experimental drugs I previously mentioned. They were injected into your brain. Don't worry, it's all part of your rehabilitation. I'll explain more after you finish your meal." I was freaking out now. "Into my brain?" I thought. But I was so hungry that I focused on the food the orderly was lifting to my face. "Mmm medium rare steak, just the way I like it," I thought. I didn't care how humiliating it was to be fed like a child. It tasted quite good. He kept feeding me until the plate was bare. Every piece of steak, every green bean. Gone. Yet the hunger relented. "Yeah, I need more food, I'm still starving," I said. They brought more. I ate it. Still, the hunger was there. "I told you Brian, the food will not satisfy your hunger. We do have something that will. Not only will it satisfy your hunger but it will also release endorphins, making you feel much better, and more relaxed. Almost like an addict getting a fix, except in this case, it has no negative side effects." McMaster left the room and returned with a canister similar to a coffee thermos. He unscrewed the lid and lifted it to my mouth. I opened my mouth at least being open to the idea that this would satisfy my hunger. However, I caught a whiff of the substance as it neared my mouth and shut it in horror. "That fucking smells like cum!" I yelled. "I assure you it's not. It's lab created with near-identical properties and taste, but it is 100% synthetic. It's also the only thing available at this moment, that will satisfy your hunger. so open up," he stated. The hunger was unbearable. I felt like I was dying, and I couldn't even curl up into the ball I wanted to, from the abdominal pain. I slowly opened my lips as little as I could. The bottle met my lips and McMaster tipped it up, as the warm sticky liquid entered my mouth. I gagged and spit most of it out. I had previously accidentally tasted semen when making out with Jane after getting one of my typical under-the-desk blowjobs, and this stuff tasted exactly the same. Hot. Sticky. Disgusting. "Fuck that. That's cum. Get me something else," I cried out. "Sorry Mr. Abernathy but this is all that will satisfy your hunger. By now, some of the substance has likely been absorbed by your mucus membrane in your mouth. Do you feel anything different?" he inquired. Not soon after he spoke, my hunger pains lessened. They didn't go away, and they were still immense. But slightly better. I also felt slightly euphoric, as if I'd just drank my first beer of the night. But no. Still. This was fucking cum. I'm not drinking cum. "Are you sure this is fake shit. It's not actually cum?" I begged to know; hoping it was fake so I could try some more only to get rid of the pain. "Yes, and it is incredibly expensive so please do not spit it out or we won't give you more," McMaster replied. I nodded and made sure not to breathe through my nose, to inhibit the taste, as McMaster again poured the substance into my mouth. I drank and drank and drank until there was no more. With each swallow, I felt better. And better. By the time it was empty. I felt completely full, and not just that, but I felt great. The stomach pains were gone. The headache was gone. I breathed out slowly and asked for a drink of water to get rid of the taste. At least this time McMaster agreed. Dr. McMaster looked at me with his stern face that seemed to never leave: "Now you know that no food will satisfy your hunger, aside from this substance. No steak, no bread, no fruits; nothing but this. What we injected into your brain, re-wired your brain and body to require it to sustain. Without it, you will again fall into immense hunger and eventually unbearable pain. You won't necessarily die, but you'll feel as if you wish to." "And this will go away like... tomorrow?" I begged to know. "No I'm sorry but at least for now, it's permanent. It's possible your wife changes her mind if she feels you've been rehabilitated and appropriately apologize and make it up to her, but for now, this is your new life," he replied. "And unfortunately, that's not all," he continued. "The substance you just consumed is indeed synthetic as we stated. But due to its high cost, thousands per vial, we cannot offer you anymore at this time. You will need to consume the true substance, direct from the source. Any exposure to air will nullify the effects entirely." "Surely you don't mean...," I asked, my voice starting to waver. "Yes, I do. You will need to either consume human male semen via an oral method, or by direct secretion into the colon," McMaster advised. "Yeah sorry bro, I'm not gay. If you're trying to make me gay you've got the wrong gay. I ain't blowing nobody and sure as hell not getting fucked in the ass," I responded, starting to freak out. "I understand you feel that way. How you provide your body with what it now needs, will be up to you," he replied. "We will release you from the hotel for now but will be monitoring you to make sure you're okay. Technically, you are our property for the time being, until your wife signs the medical release from care." They strapped a large cuff around my ankle and padlocked it, released the restraints, and allowed me to dress from the clothes in my night bag. "One last thing," McMaster said as I had turned to walk out. "You are not to contact your wife Lisa, or any known persons to you, either in person, by phone, or by any other method. Doing so will require immediate return to our care for further processing." I nodded while thinking to myself, "Fuck him, I'll do what I want," and stormed out. I was escorted back to the lobby, got my car from the valet and drove to the nearest fast food joint. I sat there pondering my circumstances. Do I call the cops? Would they believe this crazy story? Call work? Lisa? Before I could come up with an answer, I thought about the concept of consuming real cum, and promptly puked out my car window. The taste, the action itself; it wasn't something I could do. I just couldn't. Gay porn had always grossed me out and even thinking about the possibility was pushing me towards another heave. I drove around trying different fast food. Nothing seemed to help, although it physically was filling, it wasn't satisfying the craving. Hours of trying various foods passed and I pulled over into a rest stop hoping to catch some shut eye. I wasn't about to stay at another hotel in the near future, not after that experience. Fuck it, I thought. Let's try this. I unzipped my pants and started stroking my cock while thinking about Jane's plump soft pink lips. She'd had to have had them filled from time to time because I'd rarely seen lips so plump. Mmmm I thought as I imagined her wrapping her lips around my cock while handling my balls with her soft fingers. It didn't take long; I hadn't ejaculated in days. I put my other hand around the tip to catch the pool of semen. It was warm as it hit my hand. I didn't want to, but the hunger was keeping me from sleeping and I was exhausted. So again, I stopped breathing through my nose, and took a small lick of the cum in my hand. Nothing. The hunger didn't subside. I licked more; gagging, but gulping down what I could. Still nothing. It wasn't working. Had he lied? And then I remembered. It had to come straight from source. I rested a while longer, then pulled around the back of the store, into the dark. I climbed into the backseat and again, brought myself to climax except this time I laid back so my cock was over my face. I was somewhat flexible but not nearly flexible enough to get my cock in my mouth; it was probably a good foot away. It felt degrading but the pain was becoming unbearable. I opened my mouth as the cum shot me directly in the mouth and I swallowed it immediately. All of it. I relaxed and lay there waiting for the hunger to stop. It didn't. Shit. My next thoughts made my stomach turn more than the cum I'd just tasted did. I actually started considering where I could get a direct-from- source "sample". One where I could be anonymous. I didn't want people thinking I was gay. I NEEDED it to survive. It wasn't a choice. Having never been in this position before, the best I could think of was what I'd seen in porn films. Glory Holes. And unfortunately, I knew of one that local truckers used when passing through town. I drove by the truck stop to scope it out. No one around aside from an attendant in the convenience store. There were normally one or two hookers that would come by on busy nights, but being a slow night, they didn't seem to be there. I knew, because I had tried it once on a dare from a college buddy a year or two back. Luckily the bathrooms access was outside, not inside the convenience store. I watched a few truckers pull up, enter the bathroom, and leave. Yep definitely no hookers there tonight. While scared, the hunger was driving me to push the fears aside, and once no one else was around, I quickly and quietly snuck into the men's room. There were 3 urinals, followed by 3 stalls. I remembered the middle stall was where the hooker went and the client would go to either side. I was disgusted in myself but nonetheless, entered the middle stall, closed the door and sat. I placed a folded piece of toilet paper under the door, visible from the outside, as I'd seen the hooker do when I was here before. I waited. Several truckers came in, used a urinal, and left. After about an hour, the bathroom door opened, and someone entered the stall to my left. I heard two loud coughs and was surprised to see there was already a cock sticking through the hole in the stall wall. I sat there stunned, staring at it. Not knowing what to do. I'd never touched a cock other than my own. I heard another two coughs, this time more pronounced. I knew I needed what was inside, so it was time to take action even if it made me feel sick. I put my hand around it, trying to imagine what I'd want if it was Jane pleasuring me. I didn't want to touch it with my mouth until the end, so I continued just stroking it with my hand. Two more loud coughs, even more agitated now. The cock pushed further into the hole as if the person was saying "hint hint". Fuuuuck, I thought. I was getting nervous about angering this person who I knew nothing about. I plugged my nose with one hand, trying to hide the smell of sweaty balls that was coming through the hole, as my face neared the cock. Trying to get it over with, I put the cock in my mouth and began sucking, almost gagging each time it went in. He must have prepped himself ahead of time because it didn't take long, thank god, for the cock to start pulsating and a warm gooey substance hit the back of my throat. I almost reacted by spitting it out, but it had already started making my stomach settle and headache subside and I knew I needed to swallow as much as I could, so I wouldn't need to do this again for some time. Finally after I had licked up every drop, the cock was withdrawn, the stall door to my left opened, and the bathroom door opened and closed. I was left there by myself reflecting on how gross what I'd done was, yet how much better I felt. This wasn't worth it, I thought. I'd rather die than touch another cock. I'm going to fucking get back at Lisa for this. I got back in the car and began driving to my house, thinking about what I was going to do to my bitch of a wife that did this to me. I'd never hit a woman before but I'd be lying if I said it didn't cross my mind this time. I pulled in the driveway and saw the lights were on. Good, she's home, I thought to myself. I tried the door. Locked. No problem, I still had my keys. I tried the key but it didn't work. Tried again. No luck. She'd changed the locks already. I started yelling and kicking the door, telling her to let me in; that she was a bitch for doing this. I could see her on the phone. Probably calling the police, I thought. Good, I'll tell them what she did. I was so focused on yelling at her that I didn't notice the shadowy figure approach me from behind, cover my face with a cloth and put me to sleep. Chapter 3: The Punishment "Mr. Abernathy," a familiar voice called out to me as I began to wake. "Mr. Abernathy, it's time to wake up. I'm told you've activated Clause A of the contract by violating the terms of the agreement. You will now be kept on-site under direct supervision until further notice. You will now need to gain not only our trust but our approval, to leave the premises. And I imagine that will be sometime down the road," Dr McMaster stated. I tried to yell at him again but realized I was gagged. He'd had enough of my cussing him out I guess. Instead I glared at him and made as much sound as I could through the gag. It didn't faze him. "Prior to activation of Clause A we were perfectly fine with you living your life on the outside but things have changed. You will now enter our client services division and to do so, will need to undergo a few procedures. Again, all part of the agreement, and not optional on your part. Your wife Lisa agreed that these would be acceptable if you violated the terms. So here we are. Luckily, you will not need to seek out nourishment as you did last night; those in the client services department are taken care of in that regard, but you're not ready to begin just yet. In the meantime, you will receive nourishment from the Box. This is also a form of punishment anytime you misbehave or don't do as told," McMaster instructed the orderly to wheel me out and escorted me down a long hallway, to an elevator, and down several floors. On this journey, I took the time to analyze my surroundings. I did seem to be back at the hotel, but not all floors looked like a hotel, or a hospital. I was brought to a much darker floor. No daylight, just ceiling lights. I had figured the Box was some type of boxed lunch but as they wheeled me into a large room with vaulted ceilings, I realized the box was something very different. A black box sat in the middle of the room, with the side facing us, opened. I saw what looked like a padded bench, in the middle of the box. Odd contraption, I thought, still not really understanding what it was for. I was still gagged as they lifted me off the gurney and laid me on the bench. My knees had to be bent up and spread out, as the box was much narrower than the length of my body. As they laid me down my eyes grew big in horror as I saw the straps. Hanging from the top above my head, was a strap containing two cuffs, and above my legs were two cuffs; one on each side of the box ceiling. I tried to scream through the gag but my muffled cries did nothing. My wrists were cuffed together and raised above my head, attached to the roof of the box. My knees were spread apart and my ankles cuffed on each side of the roof of the box. I tried to struggle but realized the lack of recent nutrition had weakened me. I felt feeble and without control of my body. My head was tipped backward until my forehead and nose rested on a soft part of the box wall. I felt cool air on my mouth and realized my mouth was directly in front of a hole in the box. I heard McMaster adjust the wall opposite my head; the one by my legs. He pushed it towards my body, forcing my legs up/out, until I felt the wall rest up against my thighs/ass. The hospital robe they had me in was open enough that I sensed there was also a hole near to where my butt was now placed. I was scared out of my mind and continued trying to scream. "No one can hear you Brian, but listen to me and you'll do fine," McMaster advised. He continued, "You have two options. We can take your gag off and you can effectively do what you did last night (they must have been monitoring me, knowing I had sucked off some stranger), except this time it will be in a controlled setting. Or, if we take your gag off and you scream, or bite, or even utter a single word, we will send a client to the other end of the box and you will be taken from that end. Your call." I couldn't figure out which was worse. I was freaking out. But I wasn't given time to decide. They removed the gag, shut the box, and I lay there, in the pitch black. My mouth feeling the cool breeze from the rooms A/C. I tried to withdraw my mouth and lips from the hole but the way I was positioned and strapped made it impossible to move. I was stuck in place. It took what seemed like just a couple minutes before I heard anything, but finally I heard footsteps approach the box near my head. I frantically tried to decide if I should scream, plead for help, or accept my fate. The hunger had started returning since it'd probably been 24 hours since my night at the truck stop. I wasn't about to get fucked in the ass and was afraid this would happen if I didn't do exactly as told. I closed my eyes and waited. I heard unzipping and almost immediately felt the warm touch of the head of a penis on my lips. Whoever was there was basically teasing themselves, using my mouth to do so. They rubbed the head of their penis around my lips, inside around my gums and finally just rested it up against my tongue, which, since I was on my back and head tilted back, was on top of his penis. I could feel the cock stiffen up, continuously pushing harder against my tongue. Finally, seemingly fully erect, he slowly worked it into my mouth. I didn't want to close my mouth around it, still disgusted by the act. But he started pushing deeper, likely seeking a tighter grip around his cock, and probably expecting my throat to do the trick. Having never deep-throated a cock before, as soon as it hit the back of my throat I started to gag. Out of instinct, I shut my mouth around his cock and began trying to push it out both with my lips and my tongue; careful not to use my teeth for fear of being fucked in the ass as punishment. The extra friction against his cock seemed to be what he was seeking. However, for every bit of force I put into trying to get his cock out of my mouth, he pushed back with more force, perhaps still trying to reach my throat, which unfortunately was gaping open due to laying on my back with my head tilted back. I gave as much suction as I could and pushed and pushed with my tongue; I must have finally won the battle because I felt the cock stiffen and begin throbbing. This time, having no control with my hands, I couldn't direct the ejaculation. He gave one last thrust directly to the back of my throat and sprayed his load directly down my throat. It was 5 seconds of terror; half disgusted, half fulfilling. I did everything I could not to gag as his load warmed my stomach. The hunger was gone. He pulled his cock out of my mouth, zipped up, and was gone. I lay there afraid to say anything until 15minutes or so later, the box opened and there was McMaster. "You performed admirably today. We hope not to have to use this box again but be aware, if you disregard any rules or orders, you WILL end up here and next time it won't be for just one client. We have dozens of clients always willing to pay a lot of money to use the box, and not just the end that was used today, if you understand my point," Again, no emotion on his face. Just matter of fact. And I believed every word. "Do you understand?" I nodded, feeling disgusted and embarrassed about having sucked off yet another guy, but was starting to feel lost and helpless. It could be worse, I thought. Considering there was much more to Clause A, I was right, it could be, and would be worse. Much worse. Chapter 4: Changes Begin Because I had performed the Box as instructed, I was allowed access to the substances from the synthetic supply, although I was often reminded this was only temporary and I would be billed for their expense. I didn't care. I intended to never pay any bill they send me. Not like I'm working at the moment anyways. They put me on a strict food diet. Synthetic substance, which they called Product Y, and a strict vegetarian diet limited to 1000 calories. I met with a nutrition consultant who advised that while the real food did not eliminate hunger pains, it was important to consume for nutritious reasons. But meats, fats, carbs, etc. were strictly prohibited. As expected, I began losing a lot of weight; much more than I preferred. I had complained once but was reminded that if I didn't follow the provided plan, I would lose access to Product Y, and be placed back into the Box. A month passed and I reached their desired stage of the process. I was still 5'8" but now down to 120lbs from the 170 I was when I'd been kidnapped by these crazy people. I felt weak. They refused access to strength training. Only aerobics and cardio. My arms and legs were much thinner, but finally they agreed to stop the weight loss. My calorie count was increased but I was still limited to a vegetarian-only diet (in addition to Product Y which I couldn't get by without). I was told it was now time to Stage 2 (which contained several steps), after which I might be allowed to leave the grounds, albeit for short durations. Anything to get out of this place, I thought. I'd been cooped up here far too long. I just want to get out and grab a hamburger or something. I was escorted to a consultation room and an experienced looking Doctor sat down next to me. "Hi Brian, my name is Dr. Nowicki and be working with you to complete Stage 2. I will say this stage may come as a shock, but it's been approved as part of your terms of agreement, and as activated by Clause A," he showed me where my wife had signed away my rights and agreed to "all necessary procedures." "I'm sorry but what does it mean, procedures?" I inquired, growing concerned once more. This place never got better, only worse. "You will be undergoing numerous procedures that unfortunately I cannot reveal entirely at this time, but we will take them slow. Not all at once. You'll need to adapt as we go. I'm very careful with my patients, not to overdo it unnecessarily. Luckily, you've been well-behaved this past month, so we don?t need to accelerate the program like we occasionally need to do," he said. "Well-behaved..." This guy is treating me like a fucking child. But I bit my tongue and went with it, not wanting to end up back in the Box. I nodded. I'll take it one step at a time like he said. Can't be that bad. Can't be worse than the prospect of getting fucked in the ass.... "Good, so we'll meet up again tomorrow for Step 1," he stated with a smile. At least this guy is nice... I thought. I returned to my room. Because I'd been sticking to their routine, I'd been moved into more of a dorm room with access to a television, some workout gear (yoga mat, 2-5lb weights), and books. I changed out of my sweats, tossed them in the hamper next to my desk, and walked to the shower naked, and had a quick hot shower. I got out, dried off, and went to the dresser to grab my t shirt and shorts that I normally wore to bed, but it was gone from the closet. In fact, all of my clothes were gone. And the room was fucking cold. I began shivering and looked all over for some clothes. They must have come by when I was in the shower... I looked over to the bed and saw something pink. Really? I groaned and went to see what it was. A pink button-up PJ top and matching long PJ pants. Feminine as hell. But it was freezing and they looked warm. I pulled them on, noting that the top was pretty loose but the pants fit well. Whatever, I thought, as I crawled into bed and tried to warm up under the covers. I feel asleep soon after. I received a call to my room phone advising me that I needed to be in Dr. Nowicki's office in an hour. I was about to ask about clothing but the operator hung up just as I saw some folded clothing on the desk. Damn they're sneaky about coming in here, I thought. Some tight grey yoga pants and a t-shirt. Better than the pink PJs I guess, I thought as I pulled them on and then slipped on the white sneakers, also new, laid next to the door. I reached Dr. Nowicki's office just in time. "Okay Brian, we're going to start with getting rid of some of that hair," he advised. It made sense, I had a fairly hairy back, chest and at this point groin. Luckily, I'd been shaving my face daily. But I still didn't know why they cared about my body hair. "Can I ask why? "I inquired. "Actually no you can't. I remind you, everything is part of the contract and it will all make sense to you eventually. For now, it's just something that needs to be done," he said, still somewhat kindly. Whatever, I thought, and laid on the examination table as instructed. Dr. Nowicki approached me and quickly injected me in the arm before I could say anything or pull away. When I woke up, everything felt cooler. I was apparently naked; he must have disrobed me while I was knocked out. First thing I noticed was the cool air across my chest. I looked down and saw it was completely hairless. No stubble; nothing. The hair had been hiding how much weight I really lost. I could see a slight protrusion of my lower ribs, pronounced hip bones, and I felt that my collar bones were equally pronounced. The muscle loss had also led to a very smooth abdomen and chest. Not much muscle to speak of anymore at all. After I got over analyzing my chest, I froze after glancing at my arms. Then my legs. Then I lifted my arms to examine my armpits. Finally, I grabbed at my face. It was all gone. All of it. Again, no stubble or signs of waxing. It was as if it was never there. I was hairless except for my head, eyebrows, and a small trimmed triangle shape of pubes with the bottom of the triangle pointing at my cock. Oh wtf. I started to swing my feet over to get up and run, when Dr. Nowicki returned. Again, friendly face as usually. "What the hell did you do?" I screamed. "Only as required by your rehabilitation plan," he responded. "We used a revolutionary laser hair removal system. Any hair that's gone now, is gone forever. No need to worry about shaving or anything like that. It's mostly for convenience but it's also a commonly requested package for our trainees." I looked over at the full body mirror on the wall and what I saw shocked me. With no hair, and the newly slender frame, what I saw was a prepubescent girl, at least from a body standpoint. I still had somewhat masculine facial features but even those weren't as pronounced due to the weight loss. My thighs were thin to the point where there was a large gap between my groin and thighs. My arms were stick thin, abs flat as a board. And incredibly smooth silky skin. I felt sick. And that was all I remembered. Apparently, I'd passed out because I woke again in my bed. I laid in silence, trying to plot my escape. This had gone too far. Fuck it, I thought. I just need to make a break for it and try to get to a phone to call the police. I knew the phone in my room could only receive calls from inside the facility, so that was out. I peeked out the door, saw the hall was empty, and made a dash for the elevator. No alarms yet. That was a good sign. I got in, punched "Lobby" and waited apprehensively. My lack of body fat made me shiver in the chilly elevator. The elevator ride felt like forever, but likely was only 5-10 seconds. I noticed the elevator floor-readout showing an approach to the Lobby. My heart sank as it slowed, stopped, and began counting up again. Shit. I watched dreadfully as the elevator continued on to the floor where I'd first woken up in what seemed to be a hospital room. The elevator slowed to a stop, and the doors parted. There stood Dr McMaster, and two buff orderlies. "I see you've made your choice to violate the terms of your agreement yet again. I'm sorry but this is now necessary," he uttered in a deep serious voice. The orderlies easily lifted me by my arms as if I was a small child, and carried me to room that looked exactly like the one I'd begun my unfortunate stay in. I kicked and screamed the whole way. And eventually it was too much; I broke down sobbing. I just wanted to go back home, even if it meant being in a shitty marriage. I had no interest in being a feeble guy addicted to cum. It was humiliating but I was powerless as they yet again strapped me to the bed by my wrists and ankles. "Due to your actions, Stage 2 will be accelerated with little to acclimation periods," McMaster said as he glared at me. "You have only yourself to thank for this. And say goodbye to your Product Y supplements." That was the part I now feared the worst. I had no idea what was to come from Stage 2, but the idea of having to consume semen direct from the source, made me nauseous again. They left me sobbing and pitiful. Chapter 5: Dramatic Changes From this point on, I was wheeled around strapped to my bed. I was only being allowed out of it for a daily treadmill and elliptical session; both of which I was strapped to the machine by my wrists and forced to exercise to exhaustion. It was a miserable existence. I didn't realize it was about to get worst. Only 3 days after being caught trying to escape, Dr. McMaster came to get me for what I assumed was another workout appointment, but this time he arrived with Dr. Nowicki. Dr. Nowicki still appeared friendly but he also had a much more serious presence than I'd seen before. "Dr. Nowicki will be taking over for the next couple weeks, being our chief surgeon and all. I will be stepping out until Stage 2 is completed," McMaster stated, and left the room. "Please Dr. Nowicki, I must get out of here. I'm starving, and I don't want to touch another cock again. You must let me out!" I cried, again starting to sob. He replied with a soft voice, "Brian, I wish I could, but a contract is a contract, not to mention we are running a business. A great deal of money has already been invested in you. We can't just let that slide. You're expected to provide a return on the debt you owe, and I assure you, you'll be able to do so in short order, but you will need to complete the program." Not the words I wanted to hear. He reached into his pocket and produced a vile. "I know they've cut you off from having any Product Y, but I've sneaked this out for you. I hope you take that as a measure of good faith. I have no option but to proceed with Stage 2 procedures, but I will do so as humanely as I can," he said kindly. I appreciated his kind words and the willingness to bring me the contraband. Still terrified of what was in store for me, I nodded, and he lifted the vile to my mouth. The same salty slime coated my tongue, throat, and finally stomach and reminded me how much I hated the taste. But it satisfied the hunger. The vile he'd brought was much larger than the previous ones, which suggested this satisfaction would stay with me for at least several days if not more. "Okay, now, with that taken care of, it's time to begin. Be aware that the rooms you will be in once we leave here, are mic'd, and video recorded. I've been instructed to tell you that any complaints, questioning, or begging will be met with punishment in the Box for an entire day. You can ask me basic questions like what I'm doing, but if it turns into a complaint, you will be escorted to the Box, and I won't be able to stop it." Again, I appreciated his willingness to be kind, but it didn't make me feel much better. He wheeled me out, still strapped to the bed, and down the hall. We entered a larger elevator that looked like a service elevator, except it was just as plush and nice as the main one. He pressed a button that I couldn't see. The doors opened and he wheeled me into the hall. A sign on the wall said "Surgery Wing." I glanced up at him with fear in my eyes. He shook his head as if to say "No, they're watching." He wheeled me into what appeared to be a large operating room. "Now, I do need to keep you strapped for this procedure but I promise you that if you behave as previously instructed, I will remove the straps for the remainder of the Stage. Of course, unless you give reason to re-strap you. I nodded. He pulled my bed over under an overhead light and I realized that whatever was about to happen, was going to happen with me still strapped to the same bed. No chance to escape at all. Dr. Nowicki grabbed a pair of scissors and cut open my hospital gown, exposing my thin torso and chest. He then cut the sleeves and was able to remove the gown entirely. I was now laying there naked. I started hyperventilating. I had to ask. "Can you tell me what you're doing?" I begged. "Patience," he said, apparently noticing me looking nervously at my exposed flaccid cock. "Don't worry I'm not touching that. In fact, you will not feel any pain with what I'm about to do." He grabbed a syringe and injected me below my pectoral muscles, or... at least what used to be my pectoral muscles. Now they were just thin and flat. He then used a sharp tool to poke my pecs. "Feel anything?" he asked. "I feel a poke but it's dull. No pain," I replied with a worried tone. Why was he numbing my pecs? It became clear when he went to a cabinet and retrieved two small pouches filled with a jelly-like substance. I'd been with a few girls that had implants; enough to know what I was looking at. I bit my lip and began shaking my head side to side. He stopped looked at me and without saying a word, I knew he was instructing me to stay silent, for my sake. I did. I was terrified but at least they were small, and I could get them removed once I escaped from here. He returned to my bedside, scalpel in hand, and began tracing the around the lower half of my left areola. I felt no pain as I watched the scalpel draw blood. It literally felt like I was being drawn on by a marker. But clearly it was more than that. He dabbed the blood away, grabbed one of the pouches and brought it below my nipple. He looked at me as if to question whether I was ready. I shook my head. Hell no I'm not ready. But of course, it was just his bedside manner coming through, because my shaken head had no impact. He proceeded to push the pouch through the slit in my areola. If I had to guess, I'd say they were an A cup, but while they were small, I was now so thin that it still stretched my chest skin. I groaned as a small mound formed where I used to have pecs. He continued to the right side, and performed the same procedure. Now I had two small mounds on my chest. I fought back tears, knowing I was out of options. But it didn't get better. As I expected him to stitch them up, instead he retrieved a short thin hose, and a tank of what looked to be more jelly- substance. I watched in horror as he wheeled it over next to me, took one end of the thin hose, and pushed it through the slit in my areola. I felt it connect with something inside of me. He connected a second thin hose to the other pouch. Click. My eyes were pleading "Stop", but he was focused on his task. He began turning a valve on the tank, and I felt the substance filling the pouches. First it was merely a dull feeling of being filled, like blowing air into your cheeks. But seconds later, the stretching feeling began. I watched the mounds expand, and expand. A cup, to B cup, to C cup. I felt like my chest was going to tear open. I could see veins straining as they were sandwiched between the pouches and my skin. My new lack of body fat wasn't helping. I couldn't take anymore and must have passed out. I woke to find that my body was covered with warm blanket and the lights had dimmed. My wrists and ankles were free from their bonds. I immediately rubbed them as they were sore from being strapped down for days. It wasn't long before I remembered what I'd just endured. I lifted the blanket and let out a low moan as I saw the bandages wrapped around what looked like two melons. I couldn't believe this was happening, but then again, I was starting to say that far too often. Because they were filled so much, and because I was so skinny now, they were pushing against my ribs, making it hard to breath. Dr. Nowicki must have heard my labored breathing, because he came out of an office in the corner, "Don't worry, your body will adjust. Just take it slow," he stated. "Go ahead and stand up, get your blood flowing by walking around the room a bit." I did as instructed, swinging my legs off the bed, planted them on the floor and stood up. I almost fell forward on my face and leaned back against the bed to prevent it. They were so incredibly heavy; much more while standing than while I had been laying on my back. Dr. Nowicki let out a soft chuckle, but clearly felt guilty about it when I looked his way. "Sorry, it happens. You'll need to practice a bit but it will become second nature. I recommend you try walking with improved posture. Pull your shoulders back and chest out. That will adjust your center of gravity enough to make it easier." I gave it another shot. I leaned forward off the bed, pulled my shoulders back as far as I could, which pushed my new melons forward and up. This is ridiculous, I thought. But I had to at least know how to walk, if not run, to escape from this nightmare one day. It didn't take long to get winded between the heavy weight pulling down on my chest, and the limited lung capacity as they pushed into my ribs. "Go ahead and lie back. I'll take you back to your room to rest, and we'll pick back up with more tomorrow." Those words made me feel sick but I knew not to question anything now. So I nodded, got on my bed, closed my eyes and tried not to think about the fact that I was slowly but surely being turned into a thin, busty, bimbo. To Be Continued...