Celeste Pharma Ch. 02

CELESTE PHARMA

CHAPTER TWO

I spent a very bad night ruing the day and the hour I had met up with Damian and had found my way to Celeste Pharma’s Research Centre in the town of Crabtree.

In just the first day of the course I had been virtually stripped of my masculinity with the aid of a black demoness called Monika. According to her I had been rendered permanently infertile, unable to attain an erection, depilated, and in the process of growing breasts. It was all too much for me to take in. I didn’t want to die – that’s not my way – I just didn’t want to face the world. And especially so as Monika had indicated there was much more to come.

By morning I had totally recovered from the sedative I had been given the evening before. Physically I felt great; hangover free and aware of how my enforced new diet appeared to be benefitting me. Mentally I was a total mess, wallowing in self-pity.

The television screen pinged and told me to shower and perform the other necessities, and that clean clothes were to be found in the second drawer down in the chest. I ignored the instruction and resolutely hid myself under the duvet on the bed.

The watchers were immediately aware of this no doubt and the screen pinged the same message at three minute intervals thrice more. Next the screen came up with a warning. “Your actions are in contravention of your Agreement with Celeste Pharma and the penalties are draconian and irreversible. Do you really want to invoke them?” At least they were paying me the compliment of being urbane. There was nothing of the “get your fucking arse out of bed and down to the breakfast room or you will be in deep shit.”

The threat was chilling and I started to feel really scared. With what they had said they had done to me already I had little doubt that they could, and would, do much worse to me if I disobeyed their instructions further. I was trapped. I was a prisoner. What else could I do? I ran the shower and stepped inside the cubicle.

Back at the washbasin I soaped my face and reached for the razor. It was not where it should have been. I felt a twinge of panic but there was no razor to be found. There was no alternative than to wash the soap off my face and hope for the best. I looked in the mirror again and then the reality hit me. Bleary-eyed I had soaped up automatically. Now, wide awake, I could see that I had no need of a shave after all. My facial skin had never been so hairless and soft since puberty. I put two and two together and came up with depilation.

The next emotional obstacle was in the chest of drawers. The new kurta was the same as all the others I had been given to wear but the vest had taken on a different shape. It was white, made of cotton but the short sleeves were gone and the garment was no linger neck-line but to the top of my chest with two lacy shoulder straps to hold the garment up. All round the top was more lace. Still a vest, but very much of the female variety.

If that wasn’t enough the accompanying pink panties had a small white bow to the front and were trimmed on the legs and the waist with a thin strip of white lace. I sighed, hesitated, then obeyed. Wearing the kurta and the sandals, on the outside I did not look any different that I had the morning before. That was all the relief I found I could allow myself.

The screen was watching me – that was quite obvious. I had no sooner finished dressing and I was directed to Room 5, much as I had come to expect. Chris and Isher were there, seated, finishing off the remnants of a full breakfast by the look of it. Sven’s seat was vacant and it was clear that he hadn’t turned out that morning, so far. I probably looked no different to the two men except they were still under instructions not to shave.

Phyllis was on waitress duty that morning; apparently she and Melina took it in turns. She was of similar build, taller at about 5’6″, chunky and top heavy but still shapely. Her red-headedness was not natural but she had a pleasant face with twinkling green eyes. Just as Melina’s had been the day before, her perfume was sweat; suggestive of sexual exertion and the resultant residues. I flashed my eyes across the table at the men and again it was Chris who gave the game away.

“She goes like a train,” he whispered when Phyllis was out of earshot. Adding for good measure; “most of the night”.

“How do you manage to keep it up?” I asked unguardedly.

“I think they’re putting something in that medicine they give us,” chipped in Isher jokily.

Phyllis, back from the kitchen, must have overheard the remark. She handed me a glass. “Talking of medicine, here’s yours Hardy.” All three of them watched me chuck it down my throat. What alternative did I have? “Good man,” said Phyllis. She went off and came back with my bowl of cereal and a choice of fresh fruit. As she leaned over me I smelt the sweat from her armpits. “Coffee’s on its way. Melina’s a bit dozy this morning.” She looked across at Ishy meaningfully.

“Where’s kaynarca escort Sven?” I dared to enquire.

“I think he’s being a naughty boy this morning and refusing to get out of bed. We thought you were a bit slow too, Hardy.”

I made no comment and concentrated on my bowl of cereal.

“Back to your rooms now,” Phyllis directed the other two. You have a busy day ahead of you I believe.”

“Are us four the only ……..?” I didn’t know what to call us.

“There’s four girls in the unit next door,” replied Phyllis quite readily. “I expect you’ll meet them in due course. I say ‘girls’; I probably should say women.”

“Have they been here long?”

“They came a week ago and have settled in quite well – considering.”

I would dearly have liked to have explored “considering” but Phyllis was away back into the kitchen and I was arguably alone. I had no doubts I was being watched very closely.

As soon as my second cup of coffee was dregs Phyllis returned in order to clear the table. She leaned over me and as her short skirt rode up I looked down and saw what could only be spunk trickling down the insides of both her thighs. Instinctively I made a face, more of a surprise than disgust.

Phyllis noticed and failed to interpret the look on my face accurately. “You can take that look of distaste off your face, young man,” she sneered. “Soon you’ll be begging me to let you lick me clean.”

I was in too great a shock to be able to formulate a reply immediately. What could have I said to that? As it was Phyllis filled in the blank space. “Make your way back to the lift and press the button for the Second Floor.” I was duly deposited the two floors lower much as I had been the day before. This meant more clinical-type work no doubt. What else could they do to my poor body?

I was met by a cheerful little Welshman with a sing-song voice, coal black hair and a Hitler type moustache. He obviously cultivated the image of the tyrant deliberately, as a laugh. I didn’t feel like laughing at all – I was very much still in a state of shock. “What are you going to do to me?” I asked. “Exterminate me?”

“A few little injections,” he announced cheerfully.

“Are you Doctor Mengele incarnate?” I asked, referring to the despotic medical incumbent of Auschwitz.

“”Nice one Heidi, – I mean Hardy. We should get on fine. Now slip your kurta off and lie on the bench over there.”

I did as I was bid, extra unhappy as I was in full view of passers-by. They would be able to see me wearing my chemise vest and pink panties. Nobody seemed to take much notice though. This couldn’t be a regular occurrence surely? Hitler’s lackey, a male nurse, stuck in the needle of a syringe close to my left nipple. I groaned and yet another wave of desperation came over me as I watched him reload his weapon. As if hypnotised, I allowed the same treatment to my right nipple. What could I do? I felt so helpless. Next it was a larger syringe and a dose next to my belly-button. I wondered what that was about but I was too afraid of the answer to ask.

“Turn over then, please, and lie on your tummy.” The doctor searched out yet another, bigger size of syringe and loaded it with a pink liquid. “I like your sexy panties,” the doctor commented. “I wear that brand and colour myself.”

“That figures,” I thought. “It says it all.”

I endured a stab in each cheek and both of them hurt and both throbbed for a long time afterwards. I suffered discomfort when sitting down. Despite being thoroughly trapped I was starting to revolt. It appeared the doctor was wise to my feelings. “It’s so much nicer having your co-operation, you know. Else we would have to sedate you like you were yesterday.”

“But I was co-operative yesterday, ” I protested.

“Yes, but the depilation treatment was difficult and often painful,” said the doctor. “We wouldn’t want to put you through all that, would we?” He changed tack. “You shouldn’t have had any need to shave this morning. Confirm that please.”

“You’re all taking liberties with my body,” I said quietly.

“You signed up and took the money. It wouldn’t do you any good to stop the process at this stage.”

“What process? Nobody has told me about any process. There was never any mention to permanent changes to my body.”

“I am sure there was. Celeste Pharma are scrupulously careful with all aspects of their research work. They are a huge organisation with a reputation to live up to. Perhaps you didn’t read all the printed stuff you signed?”

“It certainly wasn’t explained to me.” I could feel myself on the foothills of hysteria.

“Just one more little jab, ” said the doctor. He handed his assistant another loaded syringe. And that was the unplanned one that put me right out so as I couldn’t ask any further questions, or get myself any more upset than I already was.

Goodness knows how long afterwards it was when I regained consciousness. I was lying on a bed in a curtained cubicle just like it is in any normal sort küçükyalı escort of hospital. I soon realised I was naked except for a strip of bandages hard round my groin – they were not the normal white but jet black – and their purpose was not to support or hide my genitals.

In trying to reach downwards I realised the my wrists were manacled on short metal chains affixed to the bed-head. Obviously I was not meant to disturb the bandaged in any way. Then came the feeling I needed to defecate, and fairly urgently too. I shouted out “nurse, nurse” for the want of any better name.

From nearby out popped Monika, her brown eyes checking me over in a series of passes. “You in pain Sweetie?”

Recovering quickly from the shock of seeing the black beauty I whispered, “I’m in need of a poop. Urgently.”

The small element of concern that had shown on her black face relaxed into something resembling a smile. “No, no, darling, it’s not poop. It can’t be because you were given an enema, not fifteen minutes ago, whilst you were away with the fairies. There’s nothing left inside you to want to come out.”

“A enema?” I repeated questioningly.

“You know what an enema is Hardy, surely?”

“Yes, of course I do,” I scowled. “But I’m telling you I need the toilet.”

“No, it’s just a butt plug Hardy. Have you never worn one before?”

“Worn one?”

“Experienced one then?” retorted the girl huffily.

“Obviously not. Why now?” I genuinely hadn’t worked it out.

“It’s all part of the preparation process Hardy.” Monika seemed to be enjoying her revelation role.

“What process are you on about?” I barked in frustration.

“You need to learn to take a dildo comfortably – and after that, the real thing.” She grinned and danced away leaving me alone to cope with the full impact of her revelation.

That was the point when the mix of vague suspicions I had been nursing, polarised into a full revelation about what was being done to my body. I still didn’t get the full picture, but I realised I was being feminised and soon, no doubt, I was going to be put to some use. I tried hard thereon to suppress that part of me which was threatening to thrill to the possibilities that were emerging. I was frightened and enthralled all at the same time.

Looking back, I think that was somehow a point of no return – a tipping point. Having realised what was being done to me I started on the long road of acceptance. I tried to imagine what it would be like to have a real live penis in my arse rather than the inert plastic intrusion. My testicles started tingling and I know my penis would have become rock hard had it not been neutralised.

As I lay there a new set of images entered my mind as I searched my memory banks for extra stimulation. I imagined myself back at the breakfast table that morning, on my knees with my head up Phyllis’s skirt and my tongue avidly in the process of licking her clean. I could taste the warm spunk as it oozed out of her cunt adulterated with her juices, and the cooler stuff conjoined with the sweat of her thighs. This was erotic debauchery; excruciatingly so. At that very point a massive orgasm overtook me and I thrashed about on the bed, wriggling all way and pulling myself into contortions through my chained arms. My penis was as small and limp as a party sausage and yet I was obviously still capable of giving me one of the most tremendous orgasms I could ever remember. When the waves eventually calmed right down I allowed myself a small smile. All was no lost after all.

I should have been aware that my every move was being recorded by at least one covert camera and, more than likely being watched live. Monika re-appeared and awarded me with a gentle kiss on my neck just below my left ear. A thrill made me involuntarily shudder. “Do you think that you can make it to the shower room, Sweetie?” she whispered sexily. “You can lean on me.”

“Can I have a robe or something?” I asked as Monika seemed ready to walk with me, naked as I was.

“No, Sweetie,” said the girl with a curl in her lips and humour in her eyes. “You’ll have to get used to being the centre of attention sooner or later and you may as well start now.”

What was the point of arguing with her? Celeste Pharma had me body and soul. I wouldn’t have said “owned me” – not at that time at least – but I felt I had very little room to manoeuvre. Metaphorically I shrugged my shoulders and set off.

There was no need for me to lean on the girl but I did so anyway stealing as much physical contact as I thought I could get away with. Rather adopting a professional attitude of pretending to ignore my antics, Monika seemed to positively encouraged them as she guided me into, what I can best describe as an large wet room. It was tiled, floor to ceiling in glazed white tiles in sympathy with the “hospital” nature of the second floor of the building. In one corner was an open shower area and there were odd bits of apparatus or equipment in other parts.

Monika alluringly sancaktepe escort stripped her tunic off and joined me, completely naked, her black nipples emulating thimbles, in the spacious shower area.

Armed with a soft natural sponge she soaped me down gently as if I were her baby. Perhaps that was how she saw me? Who knows? She spent some time examining my nipples which were the sorest part of my anatomy. “It’s your nipples that change first. There’s nothing to worry about. They’re already beginning to look good,” she added reassuringly.

I nearly blurted out a string of self pitying comments and but I guessed I knew what was going on and kept shtum. If I were dead set on escaping then I had a better chance if I seemed to be co-operative rather than kicking at the traces. Besides, my mind was concentrating more on Monika’s neatly mown crotch. She was standing legs apart and, acting in innocence , was rubbing her vagina against my bended knee. My little pencil felt as though it had turned to tungsten steel even though it was as limp as a kipper.

“If I take away these tapes will you promise me not to interfere with the butt plug, Honey?”

I considered the question. There was only one answer. Monika detached herself from my leg, bent down and, her face next to my pathetic genitals, she proceeded to loosen the tapes and allowing them to drop to the floor. Monika remained on her haunches, moved forward and wrapped her lips over my cock, rocking her head backwards and forwards.

The sensations I received were hardly short of mind blowing and I achieved an orgasm that literally shook every fibre in my body and brain. I had never experienced anything like it, and I knew that very few minutes that this was the start of an addiction. Monika had told me, not without some relish, that I would never get a hard-on again. What she failed to add was I could still experience the fiercest of orgasms. “All was not completely lost after all” I told myself again.

Monika, my Caribbean princess, cleverly read my mind. “It’s a reward thingy Hardy. It’s like throwing a dog a ball when he obeys his master or mistress. You now know, if you’re a good whore and do what is expected of you, you’ll be rewarded with a tremendous orgasm akin to the one you have just achieved. It gives you a goal to aim at.”

“What do you mean by ‘a good whore’?”

“Oh dear, that word just slipped out Honey.” Monika gave me a huge smile of ivory white teeth giving no confidence that indeed it was just a slip of the tongue.

“I don’t believe you Monika. You’re holding something back.”

All this time Monika had been gently sponging every inch of my body under a slow but steady stream of warm water. She turned the supply off and dried me off briskly with a large and soft bath sheet. Intermittently she dried parts of her body until we were both zinging and our nipples, hers big and mine growing, were rock hard.

“Please Monika, tell me, what’s in store for me?”

“On your knees and gently tongue my labia and I’ll consider it. Hands behind your back though.”

There is something in my make-up that causes me to find black girls extra sexy. Her order might just have been a clever distraction. I dropped my knees onto the bath sheet as Monika opened her legs just enough for me to squeeze my faze between her thighs. She knew exactly what she was doing. Her clitoris was distended below her vaginal lips and it was that which received my attention first. I had never experienced one so big and I captured it gently between my lips and then perform a massage with the point of my eager tongue.

Despite my ears being clamped between her soft thighs and my hearing greatly reduced thereby, I could faintly hear Monika’s cries of delight followed by the prize of her leaking cunt to which I was so closely exposed. I was in heaven, desperate for the pleasure not to stop but, all too soon, I was a victim of my own success. I could feel I was on the verge of another orgasm but, alas, Monika arrived there first. Her legs clamped together vice-like round my head as the first of many spasms overtook her and drenched my face with her cum.

My sole endeavour in those moments was to capture and savour as much of her cum as I possibly could and, can you believe, I was so fixated with the task I was ignorant of my own state of arousal. A second orgasm ambushed me throwing me into a whirl of pseudo insanity.

Looking back, I think it was at that point I became irrevocably sissified to the will of Celeste Pharma.

Instead of being led out of the wet room, Monika guided me over to an examination couch on which I was encouraged to lie on my back full length. Being height adjustable Monika fiddled with the controls with me ending up completely supine about eighteen inches off the floor. The one curious thing about the equipment was a six inch wide and twelve inch long padded headrest that extended at the centre of one end of the couch.

“Lay on the couch,” invited Monika sweetly. “Trustingly I did so. “That’s right, on your back with your head on that little cushion thing.” I shuffled about until Monika was satisfied, amazed at myself as to how docile I had become. I put it down to having the effect of two massive orgasms in close succession. “Now close your eyes darling and chill right out.”