It had started out as a fairly routine procedure to have my swollen balls fixed. A build-up of fluid had begun after a fairly heavy CBT session a few years ago and whilst it was easy to ignore at the beginning my sack was now getting in the way of walking and exercise. I also found this bulge not great in another way – I hated the rounded look in my front especially when wearing tight clothes.
I found myself in a quandary with my health insurance as it wouldn’t cover surgery for gender dysphoria so I had been forced to play up the other life impacts to get it covered. Not a lie but I had omitted something that would come back to bite.
The day of surgery was just supposed to be a quick day case, in and out. A taxi was going to drop me off and pick me up, and work was briefed I’d be away for a couple of weeks while I rested up. Easy.
I’m a fairly masc-presenting non binary person but have my pronouns and gender registered with the hospital so I was kinda upset to be called “Sir” by the nurses and I ended up having a little grump at the ward team about it. “Not a big deal” I’d said, just use my name. Mistake.
I get called down to theatre and start getting hooked up to the monitors: BP, Pulse-Ox, ECG, BIS. A nurse gets a cannula into my hand easily.
Just lie back and relax and you’ll start to feel a bit fuzzy.
The fentanyl goes into the port in the back of my hand. A rubber mask is gently pressed over my nose and mouth. It smells of plastic and something else I’ve not come across before.
OK, you’ll be off to sleep soon.
A big syringe of milky-white propofol starts to go in. I smile up at the gloved hand holding the rubber mask and say “see you later” as I black out.
It feels like waking from a bad dream. My breathing is rapid and I have a terrible pain in my junk. Like the worst pain I’ve ever felt. I hear the recovery team saying my name over and over and I mutter “hi”.
Are you in pain dear?
So much pain I say.
Oh no, we can’t have that. This will help.
Something goes into my cannula and the pain is instantly gone. Whatever it was has made my face really itchy so I go to scratch my nose but my arms won’t move. I put it down to the anaesthetic and try again. Nothing. My hands seem to be stuck. I look down and see my wrist is secured with a brown and white institutional restraint to the bars on the side of bed. I tug desperately.
I’m afraid we had to secure you dear. The doctors have classified you as a danger.
I realise both my hands and feet are strapped to the bed now. I’m worried. The drugs are keeping me sedated so I flail desperately but to no avail. An orderly arrives at the foot of the bed, then another. Both are in scrubs but with long black gloves covering their whole arms up to their shoulders. The brakes on the bed click off and they wheel me down the recovery corridor to a lift. The doors slide open and once inside one of them inserts a key into a rotary switch at the bottom of the control panel. It is unlabelled but once the lift starts to move it’s clear we’re going to a sub basement.
The bed is pushed out roughly over the lip of the lift doors. I wince in pain. One of the orderlies laughs gruffly and then uses an ID card on an unmarked set of solid double doors. They hiss open automatically and the bed and I are pushed into a vestibule.
Transfer.
I notice a one-way mirror on the wall of the vestibule and catch a glimpse of movement behind. The doors behind swing shut then, and only then, do the ones ahead open onto a sparse white corridor. No one’s getting out of here I think to myself as I’m wheeled to a room. The door is shut and locked and I’m left to my thoughts.
It probably wasn’t long before I see a masked figure look in through the reinforced window of the room. A lock clicks and the door swings open.
What I assume is the lead doctor comes in followed by two nurses. All are clad in unusual clothing for a hospital I think. Rather than fabric scrubs these are vinyl or rubber uniforms, that are quite tightly fitting and crinkle softly as they approach. The doctor is dressed in surgical green, the nurses are in pinky-purple, I guess to distinguish their roles. In other circumstances I would have been very happy…
Welcome to the institute, I imagine you are wondering why you are here?
We know all about you and your desires. Oh yes… The hypnotic drug we gave you with the anaesthetic made you divulge everything.
Even your little spot of insurance fraud.
We have therefore selected you to be part of our fast feminisation trial.
You can say no of course, but then we’d need to decline to cover the cost of your surgery, and as that was a bit more…. extensive…. than you’d probably planned we know you wouldn’t be able to afford it. And we’d have to tell your employer. You’d be in debt and jobless I imagine and of course, anyway, we know this what you really want, isn’t it? No need to sign anything, not that you could anyway, just say yes for the cameras.
I glance up at the black dome camera in the ceiling and meekly nod.
Excellent. No time to waste, let’s begin!
We have developed a program to transform you into the perfect doll in a weekend. Amazing isn’t it! I am afraid it can be quite painful though so let’s get Abbi and Alice here to make you more comfortable.
The nurses approach with a thick white rubber hood which has an opening for the eyes and a small oval for the mouth. One of them has a strange C shaped pink plastic tube and rips it from its sterile packet. Grabbing my jaw the oropharyngeal tube is swiftly rotated to the back of my throat. The other nurse pulls the hood over my head and with some snaps it secures the tube in place. A black corrugated rubber hose pushes onto the tube and connects to the gas system on the wall behind me.
Let me explain what has happened, and what will happen to you.
The nurses start to plug tubes into the cannulae in my arms and hands.
We have developed a drug and surgical regimen to transform your body. And once we have done that we will attend to your mind.
Our proprietary process works miracles in such a short time but you’ve already started it unbeknownst to you. Whilst you were upstairs rather than simply drain the fluid from around your testicles we just decided to remove them both.
I emit a muffled yell and start to thrash against my restraints.
The doctor subtly signals to the nurses behind me and I detect a sweet taste in my mouth as nitrous starts to flow.
Calm yourself dear, I insist.
We’ll be creating a perfect doll ready to pour into latex. That’s what you want isn’t it? ISN’T IT.
We’ve already started to pump our special hormonal blend into your body and now you’re not making your own testosterone anymore the transformation will be rapid. But we need to kick things along so you’re ready to greet the world as that perfect doll in just two days time!
Our first stage is to remove every bit of your body hair. Once it’s gone the hormones will stop any regrowth. Won’t that make slipping into latex so much better for you?
The nitrous is disconnected and it’s a relief to suck in cool air. I decide to stay subdued rather than incur the doctor’s wrath again. The two nurses wheel the bed and drip stands out of the room and along the anonymous hallway to another bigger room. I can’t help but notice the laser warning signs. Inside there is a pod-like sarcophagus with a hinged lid.
The nurses disconnect my ankle restraints from the bed and quickly snap them onto a bar that was previously hung on the wall. My wrists are similarly treated except the bar is connected to a steel cable in the ceiling. A winch pulls me out of the bed and onto the floor with my hands useless suspended above me. One of the nurses – Abbi? Alice? – approaches with an evil glint in their eye and pulls a pair of safety shears from their pocket and proceeds to cut off what little modesty the surgical gown had been providing.
The winch jerks and I’m pulled upwards and sideways so I’m dangling over the pod. I drop down and my ankles are secured to the base. The winch lowers further so I’m sat down inside the machine. My wrists are unclipped one at a time and attached above me so I’m now lying naked inside some strange shiny chamber.
The other nurse approaches with yet another hood. A huge puffy canvas affair with just a mouth port. It’s pulled on and secured with leather straps. I feel fumbling around the mouth area and that sweet sickly taste fills my mouth again. I slump onto the base of the pod and I hear the pneumatic hiss of the lid close above me, and as I do, I receive the ominous words:
This is going to hurt.
I am left unable to see with the cold chamber trapping me in. Then there is a blinding nuclear-bright light. So bright that even the thick hood doesn’t block it all out. Then there is the pain. The sharpest, stingiest pain imaginable. I desperately suck on the nitrous hoping for relief but it barely makes a dent. Then the light is gone and a barely perceptible gurgling noise starts up and the heat is replaced by a freezing cold fluid filling up the chamber. At first it is soothing but then I begin to panic that I will drown in this strange gel. The taste gets stronger and I pass out.
I awake back in what I assume is my room, or should that be cell? I am wearing a kind of straight jacket which feels very snug around the chest, and the rubber hood still. Latex stockings and underwear complete the outfit. There are lots of tubes and wires heading into various ports all over my body.
Ah, the patient is awake. Everything has gone very well. We have given you a new vulva! You must be so pleased.
Oh don’t look so disappointed, there is no need for rubber dolls to have an extra hole.
Besides you have already started to grow new breasts, you are responding very well to the medication.
Now we turn to reprogramming your mind…
The two nurses re-enter holding what looks like a VR headset which they clip onto the rubber hood. Everything is blank and then a spiral starts to form amongst clouds.
We have tailored the content just for you! Enjoy!
I realise the voice has come through earphones embedded in the hood or headset somehow. Visions of rubber-clad creatures appear in front of me and as I move my head I am immersed in the scene. There are close ups of pussy and assholes, dicks penetrating them, cum load after cum load dripping from them. It all gets too much and I close my eyes and try to look away. But just as I do I get a huge jolt of electricity through my whole body which makes me writhe in pain.
Naughty dolly! There is eye tracking so please don’t close your eyes. Make sure you keep staring at the images.
I think it’s time for the next stage.
I feel the now familiar fumbling around my gag and the sickly taste and smell of nitrous fills my mouth and lungs again. A rhythmic binaural beat starts in my ears. The nitrous now starts to have a dissociative effect and I feel myself shifting sideways out of my body and the audio starts to stutter like an old CD skipping on scratches.
A whispered voice now overlays videos of hyper-femme rubber dolls glistening in their black latex…
Cock cock cock, all you want is cock. You’re just a slutty rubber fuck doll. You exist to serve. Take all the dicks. Cock cock cock….
Over and over and over.
Suddenly the visions disappear and a representation of the cell replaces it. I see the doctor and nurses start to explore the body in front of them. Except I feel their touches; somehow the real world is now being projected into the headset.
Gooood dolly…
Some sort of suction device starts up on my tits expanding them to obscene proportions. The nurses’ eyes widen at the sight and they can’t resist a grope.
Now girls, remember I get the first test!
Test?
The doctor reaches up to the ceiling and pulls down a contraption that looks like a movie-villain laser or something. Except the end is decidedly phallic looking. A similar looking object springs up from underneath the bed with the dildo hovering close to my ass.
Let’s see if the conditioning has worked.
Someone pulls the gag from my mouth and the brief respite of the cool room air is replaced by a rubber dick protruding from the ceiling machine. It starts to fuck my mouth and I groan with pleasure. The other fucking machine starts to work on my ass doubling the intensity. I see the doctor smile and reach down with a gloved hand and start to play with what I only now realise is my new clit. The pleasure is off the scale.
Excellent response.
The headset imagery is replaced back with the hypnotic rubber dolls. So shiny.
Cock cock cock…
Maybe I don’t need to leave this place after all.
