"What is it?" "It's what you wanted. The recipient will become addicted to sperm. Perfect for you to get your blow jobs, no?" The old chinaman had a grin on his face. "It's what I wanted. What's it made of?" "Oh, ginseng, ginger root, eye of newt, androstenone, the usual." He shrugged his shoulders. "How long do the effects last?" "Ah, it's very strong. Depends on the recipients willpower, you know, to break the addiction." "Okay, how much?" "You are a first time customer. To you, fifty pounds." "Fifty pounds! For this tiny bottle and no guarantee!" "Oh, mister, I guarantee it. The ingredients are very powerful." The man held out his hand for the money. I reached into my wallet and pulled out a fifty pound note for him. He took it and pulled out a couple of pieces of crinkled paper for me. "Instructions, and my card, if you should need my services again." With that, he waved and turned away into the street. The instructions were simple, just get the recipient to ingest the contents of the vial. But how was I going to get my beautiful, rich, intelligent, but let's face it, boring girlfriend to ingest the contents? Here, honey, drink this and you'll do anything to suck my cock. No, I don't think so. Mix it in a drink? I guess, but the stuff had the consistency of sperm itself, and it wasn't going to mix easily. Probably the best bet would be a thickshake or on ice-cream. I don't suppose it's odd, I was really fascinated as to whether this stuff would actually do anything beyond induce a psychological reaction, much as any suggestion might. Maybe it would be better to tell Jane what I was giving her, then at least I could see whether she would accept the proposition. So that's what I did. I told her when she came over that evening. She wasn't particularly impressed by the idea, but was fascinated by my account of the old chinaman and what he said he could do. She wasn't so impressed when I buckled to pressure and told her how I had found him, by scouring gradually harder and harder pornography until I had found him in a fetish contact mag. When forced to admit why I'd gone to all the trouble I admitted that it was because our sex life was incredibly dull, and that I wanted to experience much more from the sexual world, and because I wanted to experience it with her, I'd determined to try anything, no matter how fanciful. "And you are now prepared to make me become addicted to sperm in order to satisfy your own desires for abnormal sex?" "Oh, come on, Jane! A blow job is not abnormal sex!" "It is to me! Would you like to put a smelly, dirty big willy into your mouth and suck on it until it ejaculates, and then you swallow it or choke?!" "Of course not, but then I'm not gay. It's a natural thing for girls to do to guys. I'm quite happy to go down on you, but you won't let me." "That's your own perversion!" This really wasn't working out like I hoped, as a little bit of fun. "It's not a perversion. Anyway, I only got this stuff for a bit of fun. It doesn't work. But I thought if you just tried it once you might just enjoy it." Jane stopped raising her voice at me to think for a second. "Okay, sweetheart. I don't think it will work, but I'm not going to drink it. In fact, it looks so much like your liquids that I think you should drink it, just to give you an idea of what you would like me to suffer. In fact, I'll do you this once only deal. If you drink it, and slowly, so that you can feel the texture, I'll consider giving you what you want. That way we'll be even." Way! Jane was offering me a blow job just as long as I would drink the contents of the bottle. Easy, and to consider her giving me a blow job was worth all of the fifty quid. You have to imagine, this girl accepted my feeble chat up lines after the rest of the university's eligible males had been failing for three years. Nobody had ever got a blow job off Jane, and now she was offering me one. I removed the cap from the bottle, and allowed the goop to slide into my mouth. I swilled it round. It was chewy, slightly, and salty with a hint of ginger. It stuck to my tongue, cheeks and teeth, and I had to screw up my courage to swallow it, when it's slow slide down my throat almost caused me to gag and vomit. Jane's jaw dropped as she watched me, and then I swallowed the last drop and smiled at her. "You bastard!" She gasped. "I didn't really want you to do that!" "Okay, your turn." I winked at her. "I said I would consider it." "Oh, come on, you can't back out on me. We had a deal!" "Look, go and shower, and I'll consider it." I couldn't really argue, and anyway I wanted to wash the salty taste out of my mouth. I went to shower, taking especial care to wash my dick, fully expecting Jane's final decision to rest on such details. I returned to her wearing only a towel. I found her waiting for me in bed, wearing her nightdress. "Come here and lie down." She gestured to her side. God, she was beautiful. But why the nightdress? I lay down on the duvet. She removed the towel revealing my soft dick. She got out from under the cover and sat astride my knees, and began to inspect it, carefully. The method was not erotic, but my cock will respond to any stimulus, and rose accordingly. She finished her inspection, pulling my foreskin right back, eliciting a cry of pain from me. "Sorry," she said, biting her lip. She looked so cute it was unbearable. "Okay," she said, taking a deep breath, "here goes!" With that she placed her mouth over the head of my cock and began to suck, moving her hand up and down in time with the up and down motion of her head. I gently slowed her down, or speeded her up, or repositioned her as necessary, without adverse comment, but making appreciative noises when it felt good. She quickly caught on, and very soon I could feel the pleasure in my crotch rising with each motion, and I had to lay back and enjoy the sensation. Women often don't realise, but the combination of the control, the sensation from the mouth, the possible danger, and ultimately the sheer feeling of having a woman at your crotch, worshipping your cock, makes a blow job the ultimate experience. I only had to consider for a moment that Jane, the most beautiful and untouchable woman I knew, was fulfilling my desires, and I came in explosive bursts, firing blasts of cum deep into her mouth. Oops, she was coughing. She hadn't been prepared for that. I sat up and went to hug her. She quit the coughing and ran to the bathroom, where I could hear the tap running rapidly. When she returned, she went to sleep on her side of the bed, without a word. I had wonderful dreams that night. Jane was giving me blow job after blow job until my prick ached. Then she would kiss me after each one, and her lips tasted as sweet as honey, and I just wanted more and more. I awoke with the feeling that I had just wet myself! I felt down around my dick, and there was a wet, sticky mess over my stomach. I pulled my hand up, and discovered that I'd just had a wet dream. Nocturnal emission was the name for the result, I recalled. I don't know why, but I put my hand to my mouth for a taste. I licked, and it was sticky and salty, exactly as the chinaman's potion had been, but without the ginger. It was quite odd, but fascinating. I took another lick. Jane moved towards me and I put my hand back under the cover quickly. She stayed asleep. I carefully got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. I looked at my stomach in the mirror and decided to clean it off, but even as I ran the water I got the oddest feeling. I couldn't waste this stuff! It was like I'd decided to throw away Sunday dinner without eating it, or thrown ten pounds down a drain. What was I thinking? I began to scrape off my cum with my fingers and run them under the tap. I began to get the most awful ache in my stomach. Something compelled me to raise my fingers to my mouth, and I licked and sucked the cum off like it was syrup. The ache left my stomach, and I felt a feeling of satisfaction. In a daze I entered the shower to wash anything else away. I woke up to myself. I'd just obeyed a compulsion to eat my own cum! The potion that the old chinaman had given me was bloody well working! No way! It must be just a psychosomatic reaction, especially with the vividness of my dreams last night. I got out of the shower and got dressed for college. Jane awoke, and didn't even wish me good morning, silently getting ready for her own lectures. I made breakfast, and sat down for ten minutes in front of the TV, only hearing the closing door as she left without saying goodbye. Boy, was she pissed. Shortly I left for college. The day really dragged by. As it progressed, I began to notice a growing ache in my stomach that reminded me of the events in the bathroom. As the ache got worse, I began to get a headache and feel nauseous. Soon, I was seeing double, but he worst thing was, I was seeing double of all the crotches of the guys around me. My head began to fill with images of hard cocks, dribbling cum, and I began to associate the pictures with the males all around. As I finally caught myself considering licking the cum from a cock I struggled out of the lecture I was in and ran weakly for the toilets. I locked myself into a cubicle and began to jack off furiously, finally squeezing out a splattering of cum into my hand, which I raised to my mouth and greedily licked clean. The aches and weakness began to dissipate as I sat on the toilet, and finally I had roused enough to get out. I scrubbed my hands and face, and noted my pale complexion in the mirror. Now I was convinced. I had to get back to that chinaman. I searched the flat, tipping out drawers and throwing out boxes. The notes that the old man had given me were nowhere. Neither were the magazines that had led me to him. Jane must've done something with them! I called her immediately at her home. "Jane, thank God you're there!" "Oh, David, it's you." "Jane, I need to know, did you see any pieces of paper lying around the flat last night?" "I don't know. I don't really think we should be talking." "Please, Jane, did you?" "Look, David, I'm not sure I ever want to see you again, and you're worried about a couple of mangy pieces of paper that are unintelligible anyway!" "So you have seen them! Where are they?" "I might have seen them. Do you have a problem?" "You wouldn't believe it if I told you. Could you please tell me where those pieces of paper are? I have to talk to the old chinaman!" "David, I don't want to see you, and I'm not going to tell you where they are. I hope that stuff poisoned you. But if you tell me the problem, I'll give the guy a call to sort you out. After that, the papers are going to get burned so that you can't get these stupid ideas into your head again. Understand?" "Jane, let me have the number, please." "Tell me what to tell him. I'll call you back." "Oh, Christ, Jane." "No need to swear, I'll just hang up." "Alright! Tell him the damn stuff worked, and I need to know how to stop it." "It worked? You meanÉ" "Yes, I mean I have an addiction to sperm, and I need to stop it. Right now." "Oh, well, let me see what I can doÉ" "Hi, is that mister Chow? "Speaking." "I have a small problem. My boyfriend came to you recently to purchase a potion, which he took, and he is now addicted to sperm." "That is not a small problem, my dear." "What do you mean? There is an antidote, I presume?" "Ah, no, there is only his willpower. To go cold turkey, as it were." "How can he do that?" "Well, with women it would be much simpler, as they have no ready supply of the fuel for the addiction. Your boyfriend does, however, so cannot remove himself from an easy source. He could just try to live with his problem, though he might find that eventually he will need to get sperm from another source, as he begins to need more and more." "You mean he would have to get sperm from other guys?" "Yes." "Oh, I hadn't thought of that. He would have to give them blow jobs, right?" "I suppose so." "And if he was cut off from his own supply of sperm, he might try that anyway?" "Certainly. He must obey the compulsion if his will power is too weak." "Could you produce something that could cut off a guy's supply of sperm? Like to make him impotent?" "Of course, madam, though such mixtures often have side effects." "Like what?" "Well, I use a good deal of female hormones in the mixture, to dampen the effects of male hormones already produced in the body. This is what results in the reduction in sperm production. If you wished for a permanent impotence, the strength of the potion might cause the development of female sexual characteristics in the recipient." "How could one dose produce that effect?" "The recipients own body is chemically coerced into maintaining the effect." "I'm interested. If you can do all this, can you make potions to make women beautiful, enlarge their bust size, etc." "Bust enlargement can be induced by fooling the body into believing it is going through puberty again, with massive hormone doses and other powerful herbs. Skin can be softened from within by inhibiting melanine production and detoxifying the body. Diet drugs can form the perfect hourglass shape, or can be targeted to shape particular areas. Bone and muscle mass can be increased or decreased. Head hair and nails can be induced to grow at four times their normal rate, whilst bodily and facial hair can be much reduced in visibility. I cannot reshape faces or change the colour of eyes, but modern medicine and contact lenses can cover those areas." "Can you get me potions to do all of those things?" "Including the impotence?" "Yes. How much and when?" "Meet me next to the chinatown gate, this evening at eleven. Bring what you might expect to pay for what you ask. In cash." "Oh, and do you do things to like, you know, change peoples perceptions?" "Temporary attitude adjustment?" "I'm not sure about temporaryÉ" "We will talk more this evening." I picked up the 'phone as soon as it rang. It was almost midnight, and I had been expecting Jane to call. "Jane!" "Good evening, David. Have you eaten?" What? Oh, the bitch! "Yes, thank you. Dinner was a couple of hours ago." "Oh good. Are you dressed?" "I'm in bed." I said, curious. "I'm on my way over. Ten minutes." She put the 'phone down. I wondered what she could be coming over for? She had said she didn't want to see me again, and that she would just get in touch with the chinaman for me. Did she have to bring over the cure? I dressed, and minutes later Jane let herself in. She came into the bedroom and poured out a whole bag of vials onto the bed. "This lot," she said with a wave, "is your cure." "So many?" "The gentleman did say that you could only cure yourself of your addiction, but we realised that many things stood in the way of that, because you have a source of sperm so readily available, and no one could suggest that you be tied up for the weeks it would require to gradually free you of the compulsion. You have to be able to continue with some kind of life, so all this is required, and I've added one or two things to make sure you never want to try this kind of thing again." "What do you mean by that? To make sure I never try this kind of thing again?" "Well, now I see that you wished to turn me into some kind of whore, and, let's face it, it makes me feel sick. I was pissed off with you for what you did last night, after I gave you what you desired even though it disgusted me, but I was even more pissed off when I found that the potion worked, and I realise what you wanted to turn me into." "Look, Jane, I'm really sorry. I explained that I thought it was all a joke. That we were just going to play out a fantasy. I didn't realise it would work." "No, and it's pure luck that I'm not the one addicted to sickly male effluence. Anyway, just drink this and we'll get started." She handed me a purple vial. "What is it?" "That one cuts off your own sperm production, so that you can't feed your addiction yourself." Hmm, okay, I took the top off and drank the contents. It was a burning, orange flavoured liquid that I swallowed quickly. I handed her back the empty bottle. "Great!" She laughed happily. "Let's see what happens now." She gave me a quick kiss and then packed the rest of the bottles back into her bag and stood up to go. "Where are you going?" I asked. "Home. You have my number. Call me to tell me how things are going." With that she turned and left. "What about the rest of the cure?" I called after her. "You'll get it, all in good time!" The aches didn't kick in until about lunchtime the next day. Don't get me wrong, I'd been fighting the urge since I awoke, but I recognised the aches as a sign of deprivation. I headed for the toilets and began to jack myself off. After a couple of long, painful minutes I orgasmed, but on looking at my hand, I had hardly cum. I slurped up the few dribbles that were there, but my pain was only lessened by the tiny amount. I tried again, but the second orgasm produced nothing but an ache in my dick and balls. I began to panic. I ran out of the toilets and out of the college, heading for home. I lay down on my bed there beating myself off in despair but I was beginning to realise that the only place I could find cum would be someone else's cock. Perhaps I was dreaming, but some kind of numbness was clouding my head and with it, the pain, as I wandered around the streets. I had no destination in mind, but somehow I got there anyway. I stood at the bus station, with a few other late night hopefuls. A car pulled up, and I got in. The guy drove around the corner and into an alley. There was no talk. As the car stopped I opened his fly and bent my head down to his growing penis. I took it in my mouth and began to suck on it like a lollipop, with my hand wrapped round the base frantically urging the cock to cum for me. He tried to slow me down, to raise my head but I forced his arms away and pinned him to his chair. It didn't take a minute, before the greasy piece of meat retched it's sickly liquid into my mouth, and I gulped down every last drop like it was ambrosia. I left the car, and allowed my head to clear. Oh, shit! What had I done? A replay of the incident came unbidden to my mind and I threw up over the pavement, hot salty vomit stinging my mouth. I held myself together enough to force my legs to run, wildly aiming for my home. I sat on the bed, and stared at the telephone. Had she known this would happen? Had she done this on purpose, sending me out to suffer the fate that I had wanted her to suffer, to taste the foul fluids that I had forced her to taste? Should I trust her to help me? There was no lower I could go. I utterly despised what I had put myself through, and felt the humiliation of performing a violently abnormal act. My heterosexuality was protesting my rape at the hands of this addiction. I needed help. I picked up the 'phone. "Jane?" "Oh, hi there, David. How are you getting along." "Please come over, Jane. I need help. The addiction is getting stronger." "I see. And did the new drug work?" "It did." "So you should be able to throw the addiction off then." "No, like I said, it's getting worse." "How could you feed it?" "I'd really rather not talk about it." "Oh. Oh!" I heard a muffled laugh. Then a pause. "I'll come right over!" "So which bottle is it now?" I asked. "That depends. You see, any one of these bottles now will be acting on aiding you to act within the constraints of the addiction, rather than beating it." "How do you mean?" "Well, like tonight I assume you went to get sperm from some kind of donor?" I grimaced. She took that as a yes. "You see," she explained, "you performed an act that no heterosexual male could ever consider. The addiction overcame your willpower completely. I don't think you can overcome the addiction and live." "You're shitting me, right?!" I looked at Jane in horror. She smiled at me. I thought it an odd expression, containing as it did a hint of humour, yet her face remained serious. "I don't know." She replied. "There's three things we can try. I can tie you up and leave you alone to break the habit cold turkey. I think you'll die." She looked down for a second, almost as though she was sad about that fact. "Number two?" I asked. "Numbers two and three are in these bottles. This bottle," she said, picking up a red vial, "this bottle contains a very powerful mind altering formula. I can use it to turn you into a homosexual, or at least a bisexual who doesn't mind sucking men's cocks. At least you won't mind the humiliation that your addiction will put you through." She looked at me as if to say 'is this what you want?' I shook my head. She continued. "The rest of the bottles contain formulae which should remove the initial cause of the problem Ð the desire for a blow job Ð and thus give us a platform to build on for healthy removal of the addiction." "What do they do?" "Well, they will weaken you physically, and mentally, making it harder to act on the impulses of the addiction Ð you wouldn't be able to force someone to 'donate' their sperm, which might have otherwise resulted in violence." I thought back to earlier events. It could be useful if I could be more easily stopped. "They will make it a more attractive proposition for you to request sperm, a proposition which you should then be able to resist." "I thought you said I would be mentally weaker?" "Yes, but only in that you will find that you don't feel the same urge to have sex, or to go out even. You will not desire to fulfil your addiction in the circumstances." "So, overall my willpower should be able to overcome the addiction after I take these things." "Yes. You should find that you will have a far stronger desire to avoid succumbing to the addiction than you had before." Was there a grin, or was that a smile? "So which formula do I drink first?" Now I definitely saw a grin. What was Jane hiding? I guess I would find out, but, on reflection, I'm glad I didn't go for that mind altering stuff. I'm not so sure I could trust herÉ Across the evening I drank the contents of nearly half of the vials. Jane would not permit me to take any more as she had only given me the formulae that could be mixed. The rest might be too much for the human body. The effects should be fairly pronounced, she said, though she did not expect to see anything for a few days. I did ask her if she could return the number of the chinaman to me. Of course, she responded with a smile, but only if you promise me that you'll marry me, and you'll never want me to give you a blow job again. She laughed then. Was she just kidding me around now? I was serious. I did agree to marry her. She asked if I would ever want a blow job again. How could I not think about it?! I couldn't swear to something like that. She laughed again. "Soon," she said, "You will never want another blow job again!" I woke up, and Jane was gone, with the rest of the bottles. I felt awful. Now I wished I hadn't taken so many of the drugs at once. Well, based on the experiences of the other two, these would definitely work, and probably very quickly. In fact, one thing was already working. I felt very weak. A sort of flu feeling had come over me. I struggled into the bathroom and looked myself over in the mirror. I looked awful. I was pale and drawn, and looking exceptionally tired. Just one thing told me it wasn't flu. I was feeling very hungry, and I looked like I needed it. Of course, I still felt that slight hunger for sperm. Rationally, I knew that my own sperm supply had been cut off, but that didn't explain the feeling I had that I didn't have any desire to masturbate. Perhaps the drugs were having the right effect, and I would be able to control my urges. Breakfast was a full fried breakfast. I had a taste for butter, and I drank milk instead of juice, which I hadn't done for years. In college, which I forced myself to attend, I felt hungry after the first lecture, but nothing that a chocolate bar couldn't sort out. Lunch was cheesy pasta, and after that, I felt the other type of hunger begin to strengthen. I called it a day after the next lecture, when the aches began. I went home intending to sleep through it. I failed. That evening I was back at the bus station, and I went through the same humiliation all over again. Jane did come back over in the evening, without bottles. She questioned me about my day, then asked me her question once more. "Will you never want a blow job again?" There was an odd gleam in her eyes. "How can I answer?" I replied. "With you sitting there I could appreciate a blow job right now, now that you mention it." "Oh, David! You're intractable! Okay, listen carefully! There was no cure for your addiction apart from cold turkey. We could have tied you to a bed and I could have sat here and looked after you, but I'll admit, when I spoke to your Chinese friend I suddenly decided that I was going to teach you a lesson for making me eat your cum. Now, you're going to spend a long time getting to like it yourself. You see, over the next few days, if the efficacy of the last two potions was anything to go by, you're going to watch yourself turn into a woman. Just think about it! Long hair, smooth skin, curves and tits. No-one is going to refuse you when you ask to suck their dick. I told you that this method would just help you within the confines of the addiction, and yes, your addiction will get worse as you feed it. I also said that this method would act on your original desire for blow jobs. In fact, you're going to come to hate blow jobs and never want to give one again, but that's all you'll be doing. "And the remaining bottles. Well, they will make you physically more feminine, such as softening your facial features, and accentuating your curves. I'm going to hang on to those until you ask me for them, because you will. You won't like being a masculine woman, because that won't get you boyfriends, and that won't get you sperm. "Goodbye, David. Be sure to give me a call when you want to become more of a woman." My jaw dropped to the floor. Jane took advantage of my shocked state to head for the door before I could even think of saying anything, let alone acting. The slamming door aroused me, but when I chased after her, she had already disappeared. I returned to my thoughts. There was no way this could happen. Could even the old Chinaman's drugs be that powerful? But then, I had no male hormone production, apparently, so there was nothing in my body to prevent such a thing occurring except for the fact that I was a male. I had to get in touch with the old Chinaman again. Jane wasn't going to help me, and there was no way I could get into her parents' home, or find any small items of paper in the vastness of it. I was going to have to start from scratch searching the contact magazines, and the sex shops. I awoke the next morning with a rabid hunger again. And once again, only a fry up could fulfil it, along with two pints of milk and all the cheese that my fridge contained. A look in the mirror told me that I was changing. I was much thinner, and I could see my waist disappearing. Fat seemed to be accumulating on my chest, under loose folds of skin. My beard had grown overnight, but the hair seemed thinner. It was easy to shave, though my skin seemed more sensitive. I did head into college, but again left at lunchtime, and even then I could see the stubble appearing on my face. Why was my beard growing so quickly if I wasn't producing male hormones? It did appear to be thinning, though. Was all my hair growing as quickly? I fought the cramps and cravings until much later that evening. I joined the gathering late night crowd at the bus station but nobody came to me. I finally approached a client, but was told I looked awful. In desperation I offered to suck him off for free, which I did. I returned to my rooms and went straight to sleep. The next few days were much the same. Each morning I awoke to find my facial hair grown long, but thinning until it finally wasn't growing at all. The hairs on my arms and legs thinned to become short and blonde, barely showing against my skin. The skin itself became much smoother, and any traces of spots disappeared. My waist slimmed, whilst my hips and backside put on a cushioning of fat, helped along by the huge quantities of fat I was eating. This also provided for the most obvious difference, the growth of a small pair of breasts on my chest. My hair had grown almost an inch in the week, and my nails too, probably, though I cut them short. The nights at the station were getting later, as I think I felt a lessening of the sperm craving. I felt a general lessening in desire and notice that my penis barely ever grew to erection, and might even have shrunk slightly. Perhaps I could throw the habit, though there was one major problem, and that was that my sperm sources were only available at night, but by extending the periods between doses I would end up in the day. On my last night at the station I had been mistaken for a woman, though I didn't enjoy being called 'the ugly bitch'. Especially not when I was then forced to suck cock but didn't have the strength to resist. At the end of the week I decided to try to skip one night of torture in order to try to break the addiction. I did sleep well, but was woken at five in the morning by killing cramps and a craving that literally threw me onto the streets. Of course, the streets were empty. I tried masturbation for the first time in days, but my cock wouldn't even harden, and no matter how good the stroking felt, I couldn't cum. I staggered home a couple of hours later, having been thrown out of two hotels and told to fuck off by a tramp, who also called me an ugly lesbian. In desperation I called Jane. I can't remember what I said, but within half an hour she was at my bedside. I told her how no one wanted a blow job from an ugly woman. She simply gave me some more formulae to take, and I took all that she gave me, though she held back one red vial. She also took out a small test-tube, and told me to drink the contents. It was cold, but it was cum. I almost had hallucinations of pleasure, and the cramps left me so quickly I hit a high. Unfortunately, I realised just as quickly what I'd just done. Jane had given me the formulae to turn me into a better looking woman. I'd requested it because I wanted to be able to get cum during the day, in order to break my habit, but in trying to break my habit I was ruining my own life. "Never mind, darling," said Jane, "I'll look after you, even though this is all your fault." "It's not my fault that I look like this!" I responded. "No, of course not, but it is your fault that I made you look like that." She grinned wickedly. "You can't go to college any more, 'cause there's no way you'll pass for David Evans any more. Why don't you come to live at home with me?" "How could I possibly live with you?" "Actually, my father is looking for some new staff. You could be a maid." I almost choked in my shock. "I'm a man! How can I be a maid." "You don't look like a man, dear." "I'll throw off this fucking curse and I'll get back to normal, and you can just fuck off home and leave me alone. You've done enough damage!" Jane's face dropped. She looked utterly stunned that anyone could talk to her like that. She recovered slowly. "David, or Davinia, or whatever. I'm your only connection to recovery, and I'm not letting you get back in touch with anyone who could help until I've watched you learn your lesson. I'll leave you now, but I'll be back, and I'll think over whether I want you to get better or not. Goodbye!" She left. I lay there in torment. I left the house only when I had to, and that was to get food and to satisfy my addiction. My transformation continued unabated. My waist shrank, my hips expanded, and my tits grew to enormous proportions. I had to shop for clothes, including new jeans and underwear. Nothing fancy, but I needed bras. That was hugely embarrassing. Nobody treated me as anything other than a girl out to buy a bra, but I thought they were all laughing under the surface, seeing me for the man I was. But no man took a 38D bra. My skin got smoother and paler, and my facial hair disappeared. My hair grew quickly down to my shoulders and I allowed my nails to grow with it. My face and body softened and curves grew more pronounced. My face hadn't been bad looking for a man, and it became quite striking, with my blue eyes seeming to get bigger and brighter, and more pronounced against my growing, and gleaming dark hair. I was tall, slim, curvaceous, with a pretty face and a large chest. Men, and women, noticed me when I went out. I did manage to delay my cravings daily. In the day now, I could walk into any bar when it opened in the morning and be giving head by lunchtime. I began to dress like a woman when I went out and apply make- up so that when I needed to satisfy my addiction I would be certain of getting a response. But I never let anyone get into my underwear. I gave up college as a lost cause and took up my search for the chinaman in the red light district of the city. I began to charge for my services when I felt the need to provide them, and this gave me a modest income to finance my search. I searched non-stop, because I hadn't spoken to my family in two weeks, and I wouldn't have a clue what to say to them. They wouldn't even recognise my voice. Another reason for my non-stop search was that I still couldn't stand giving head. It's not something a guy can get used to. I had my habit down to once every two days and I figured only another two weeks to break it. By then, I could be back to being a guy if I could only find him. Then, one afternoon, I found Jane waiting for me in our flat. "David, is that you? Wow, maybe I should just call you Davinia. You haven't called. How are things?" "You know exactly how things are, Jane." I spat out. "There's no need for that tone. I just wondered if you'd thought about my proposition about a job?" "I'm getting along just fine, thank you." "Sit down for a second." She motioned toward the settee. "Let me get you a drink. Coffee?" I nodded. She got up to go to the kitchen. Within a minute she was back, with two mugs. I took a sip of mine. Too sweet. I was trying to cut down on my sugar but perhaps she had forgotten. "How is it?" "A little too sweet." "Sorry. How is your problem?" "I've almost broken the back of it." I responded, taking another sip. "I reckon I could get rid of this addiction soon." "Oh." Jane seemed a little surprised. "And then what will you do?" "I'll find the chinaman and get him to turn me back into a guy, and try to get back to my life." "Just like that?" "Just like that what?" "I mean, are you simply going to get straight back to your life? Are we just going to continue as we were?" I took a gulp of the sweet liquid. Was there some other odd taste in it? "Are we going to continue as we were? No, I hardly think so. Not after what you've done to me." "You started this!" "And I would've stopped this." "Do you really believe that? Do you really think that if I had been happy to suck your cock for you whenever you wanted it you would have stopped me?" "WellÉ" "Well, what? It's the truth, isn't it. It hurts for you to be feeling the way you do but you would've been happy for me to undergo exactly the same treatment. It would have made you feel great to see me begging to suck your cock? Wouldn't it?" I could do nothing but stare at the dregs of my coffee. "I thought so. That's why I don't want you to escape the poetic situation that you're in now." I looked up at her in shock. She laughed at me. "No, I want you stuck like that, or worse, as I please. That's why I put the mind altering drug in your coffee." I was stunned. I tried to get up, but I couldn't, and the effort made me dizzy. I passed out to Jane's continuing laughter. I woke up lying on the settee. Jane was still sitting opposite me. "What happened?" I managed to croak. "I've just reset a few mental processes, that's all." "What do you mean? What have you done to me?" "Don't worry! I haven't done anything to you. I mean, I've left you as essentially you. Otherwise what pleasure would I gain from watching you suffer? I could have turned you into a mindless slave, but to what purpose? There's no fun in that." "So you didn't do anything?" I was confused. "Oh, no, I did do things, so that I could make you suffer and enjoy it. I've implanted into your subconscious a desire to follow my commands, making that desire as strong as your desire to drink cum, so the more cum you drink, the less you'll feel the need to do as I say. Fair, huh?" I just stared at her. "Anyway, I need to test it out and to prove to you that it works, so when was the last time you drank cum? If it was recently, then you won't need to obey me. So, David, stand up!" I felt the compulsion in the words, and stood almost as though it had been my own idea, not even having time to consider opposing the command. "Oh, I see, it must have been some time ago. Well, sit down, and let me think of something really juicy." I sat, and I realised that a simple solution to this latest predicament would be to get out of earshot of Jane. I tried to stand, against the compulsion to sit. Jane noticed. "Stay sat down!" This time there was no escaping the constant in the command. "It seems that commands can be continuous. Hmm. I have it!" She laughed. "Oh, you're going to love this one. David, I want you to become a woman. You're going to go down to that red-light district that you love to inhabit and find a back street surgeon who'll do you a sex-change operation as soon as possible. Don't worry, I'll pay, just as soon as you find one. Remember, if you go drink some cum, you might not feel the need to obey the command." Jane was laughing like someone had cracked the world's greatest joke. "Oh, God, David, don't you get it? To avoid the commands I give you, you have to drink cum, and that feeds your addiction, making it stronger. Oh, if I don't stop laughing, I'm going to pass out." She managed to calm herself down. "Jane?" I managed to ask. "Why are you doing this to me?" "David, my poor David. Because I hate you. I didn't, but I do now. Only there's a really strange thing, and that's that I prefer you now, and I'm beginning to really get turned on by the thought of you being a proper woman. I want you as a lover again, but without the penis, because that always stood between us." She started to laugh again. "Get it? 'Stood between us!' Ha, ha!" She stopped again. "Now, off you go and get yourself a sex-change, there's a good girl." I stood up to leave. "Wait, David, just one more thing." I turned back to her. "Your name is not David, anymore, it's Davinia. You won't respond to David, but you respond to Davinia because that's your name. Okay, you can go now." I wasn't wandering aimlessly through the streets. I knew exactly where I was heading. I didn't want to go there, but somehow I couldn't refuse. Various doctors were contactable through various offices advertised in the magazines I'd been reading in order to find the chinaman. I was headed for one of those offices. As I walked, I thought. I have a choice. Give a guy a blow job, and not become a woman but feed my addiction, making it worse again, or become a woman and perhaps break the addiction. I really didn't want to become a woman, because that would be the end of my life, but if I fed my addiction, I would also be feeding Jane's power over me. Ultimately, she would only have to repeat the command, and it would be so strong that I would do it. My choice became stark. Either become a woman, or become a cock-sucking woman enslaved to Jane's commands. "Davinia," I said to myself, "you might as well become the best woman you can be!" And so I ended up at a private clinic, which was one of the most expensive in the city. I booked a surgery for the following day, which they would honour, as long as I came with the cash, and signed away my life on a few legal documents. I returned to the flat, and found Jane waiting for me again. "How much do you need, Davinia?" She asked, pleasantly. "Four thousand pounds, in cash." I sat down in the settee. "Anything else you'd like me to do before I head off to bed?" "Well, you have got a long day tomorrow. You know what though, I really want to give you something to remember before you head off to your surgery. Take off all your clothes." I stood and stripped down to my bare skin. In the cool of the room my nipples became erect. "Stand still, like a mannequin, and close your eyes." I did exactly what she said. What the hell was she going to do now. I tried to open my eyes, but it was as though I simply wanted to keep them closed. I felt something touch my cock, and begin to stroke it. It responded, slowly hardening. The next thing I felt must have been my imagination, but there was warm breath and warm wet lips moving onto my cock. Jane's mouth was around the end of it and her hand was gripping the base. It felt so good! As Jane sucked on my head, I began to moan in appreciation. She continued her pace relentlessly, drawing gasps and groans from me as the pleasure of each stroke mounted toward a continuous whole. Then she moved her mouth off my end, and moved her hand up to where her mouth had made my dick wet, and smoothly and expertly masturbated me to the edge of a growing orgasm, where she held me, tantalisingly. I almost didn't hear her whispering in my ear "You will always feel this good as a woman, Davinia, whether you are licked, sucked or fucked you will feel this good and better, as you will be able to orgasm for as long as anyone is willing to make you orgasm. There is a small price to pay, and that is that every time you feel this good, you will remember me giving you a blow job, and you will feel the shame of not having a penis anymore, and you will feel the shame of being the receiver in sex, and not the giver. This shame, this humiliation will always remind you that you used to be a man, but it will never detract from your pleasure in sex. In fact, it will make you more feminine, more submissive, and more wanton, against whatever you might will or wish. Your pleasure will increase, and your shame will increase." With that, she slid her hand just a little faster over my foreskin, and drew me into an orgasm that was ruthless in its intensity. It must have gone on for an hour, or it just kept restarting, over and over. But Jane didn't stop her motions, and I passed out. I awoke still standing, and realised that I could move and open my eyes. Jane was gone, it seemed. I headed for the bedroom and simply collapsed. I awoke to Jane sitting on the end of the bed. I could feel the aches of a craving coming on. She pointed to a bag on the floor. "Cash." she said simply. "Oh, unless you went out last night you must be aching for some sperm right now. Well, fair's fair, I can't stop you from having any, because that would prevent me having any more fun with you, so I'm not going to stop you. But if you have some now, you might not turn up for the appointment." I hoped Jane couldn't see it, but through the pain I was beginning to smile. I might escape after all. "So," she continued, "You're not going to have any until you've arrived for the appointment. In fact, you are not to have any until you are offered some whilst you are at the hospital, and you are to make no attempt to get some offered to you. "You must take this bag, without opening it, and when you get to the hospital you may open it to take out a letter to give to your surgeon. You must agree to anything he asks concerning the surgery. Okay, that's it. Get dressed and go now!" I got up from the bed without a word and put on my bra and panties, jeans and a t-shirt. I slipped on a pullover and a pair of plimsolls. Hoisting the bag over my shoulder I set off for the hospital, churning over in my mind plans for escape. Surely I could get away from the operation if I were to be offered some sperm, but how was I to get hold of some if I couldn't attempt to get some offered to me. On the other hand, if I didn't have any sperm before the operation went ahead, I must surely break the addiction, as the operation would keep me immobile and unable to satisfy my craving. Either way, I must come out a winner, and Jane, with all her plotting and planning was not going to get any further satisfaction out of me. Why did she do this? Why did a seemingly harmless, lovely girl take up arms against her lover? Why did she seem to hate me so much? All I wanted was a bit of fun, but this had been taken to extremes in her reaction. The extreme was now approaching. I could lose my masculinity altogether. Was that it? This was all to remove my reason for wanting a blow job in the first place? This really was extreme measures! Why? And why me? Why did I start all of this? I was almost in tears when I reached the surgery. I went to the desk and my appointed surgeon was called and took me to his office. There I signed a couple of forms and handed over the letter and cash. The surgeon read the letter. When he had finished he asked, "Are you sure you want me to follow these instructions to the letter?" "Yes." It was automatic. I didn't even know what the letter said. "Okay, I'll call in a couple of orderlies." A couple of minutes later they arrived, and the doctor spoke to one of them quietly behind the desk. Nodding, the orderly motioned for me to follow him. I did, and we came to a prepping room with an empty bed in it. He told me to strip down, put on a gown that was hanging near the bed, and to get in, then to call him when I was ready. I did as he asked, being unable to do anything else. I was desperate to get some sperm. Because of the pain, yes, but also because this operation was getting too close for comfort. The orderly returned, and as I was laid down he and his companion quickly strapped me onto the bed. In moments I was unable to move. "What the fu Ð" I began, only to have it cut off by a large hand being placed over my mouth. Then the surgeon arrived. He took a small bottle out of the bag that I'd brought and undid the cap. "Your letter said to say that this is a present from Jane. I really don't understand why you people put yourself through things like this, but anyway, she says it's a present from her new lover. Here, drink." He passed the bottle to my lips, and as the hand moved away I could smell the distinct aroma of sperm. I raised my mouth straight to it and shot my tongue inside, greedily licking out all the slimy, salty mucous inside. My pains subsided to an elated, relaxation. I almost passed out. What a genius she is, I thought, distractedly. She has me tied down here with no escape and no release from my addiction. I felt a prick in my arm, and passed out. I strapped on the heels, and took a turn in front of the mirror to check my appearance. The white crepe cap was positioned centrally on top of a mass of wavy black hair that fell unchecked over my shoulders and down to the centre of my back. My dress was cut low at the front, the white lace trim revealing a thrusting cleavage, held out by my 38EE bustier, which was what I required following the surgery. The corset was also a new fact of my life, as the only key to the lock on the back was held by Jane, and my nineteen inch waist was still being shrunk. The black dress almost ended at the waist, which was held tight by the strap of a white lacy pinafore. The lower part of the dress would just cover my backside as long as I stood up straight, but didn't cover the tops of my stockings, and the lower parts of the suspenders holding them up. Neither, if I bent forward, would it remain covering my ass, whose only other protection was a black g-string, which was way too tight and rubbed against the insides of my pussy lips constantly. The stockings were sheer, sliding smoothly over my pins right down to the four inch heels which kept me permanently tottering on my toes. I looked back at my face. All the bruising had gone. Another 'side effect' of the operation. You see, Jane had paid for more than just a simple sex change, she'd also included a boob job and some facial restructuring, including the rounding off of my jawline, slightly enlarged cheekbones, slight enlargement of the eyes and a nose job that gave me a pert upturn to the end of a little nose. Other cosmetic changes were a chemical peel which smoothed the skin and implants into the lips. I was Davinia, and the male Davinia, or was it David, was no more than a memory. But those memories were my memories, even if physically David was no more. He was mentally inside me, especially when I had sex. I remember the first time, I suppose you could say the time I lost my virginity. Jane met me at the hospital, and brought me to her home, where once a night she would come in to my room and kiss me, and always there would be sperm in her mouth, which I would eagerly accept. Then, a few days after she had removed my bandages, she came into the room with Eddie Vincent, my best friend. Seeing my shock she simply told me to shut up and watch, which I did, waiting as I was for my evening dose of cum. I watched her kneel in front of Eddie, and release his dick from it's zipper, then proceed to lick, suck and fondle it until Eddie was bucking and groaning, and spurting his cum all over her face. That's when she got up and came over to kiss me, sending just the tiniest taste of his sperm into my mouth. "If you want," she whispered, "I'm sure you can get Eddie to give you some more." There was no command involved, just that that tiny taste of sperm had sent me wild with the craving, and I could not resist getting out of bed and sucking his cock for all it would produce. Eddie allowed me to suck the little that was left off his cock, but that was not enough, and I kept sucking and fondling it until it became hard again. Against my protestations, Eddie stopped me then, and lifted me back onto the bed, and though I fought for his cock there was nothing I could do. Then it entered me, with no word or warning, and I was dumbstruck by the presence of it. Eddie was inside me, and his cock was stroking my insides. I don't know if it felt good or bad, it simply felt. It was like nothing I have ever felt before. I was fulfilled by its presence, as though it should have been there all the time, and I was entranced by its motion, as I felt it sliding in and out. Any excitement produced was suddenly tempered by an enormous feeling of desperation as I realised my new position, as a man being fucked by a man. I felt a wave of humiliation wash over me and I tried to object to my treatment, but when I opened my mouth only a moan escaped it. I went red with embarrassment and tried to get out from under Eddie, but my weakness and my position made my attempts useless, and served only to increase my humiliation as I realised my impotence. But another emotion was encroaching upon my senses. My humiliation and my submissive situation only served to turn me on as I realised Eddie's dominance and his power over me. I responded with increased passion to his motions, and began to cry out my pleasure. I couldn't keep quiet, I couldn't stay still, I just wanted more of Eddie's cock inside me. I began to scream in frustration, but it became a scream of pleasure. I was getting fucked and I couldn't do anything about it, and because I couldn't do anything about it, I wanted more. But the best new sensation came when Eddie orgasmed, because the sperm that he produced gave me an incredibly powerful high as it somehow satisfied all my cravings, and anything else that needed satisfying. Jane noted the reaction with pleasure. From then on, she made sure that I was fucked every night by one of the male staff, or Eddie, and every time I hated it, and tried to avoid it, but my desire for cum would make me do it, and then I would end up enjoying every last second of it like some sex-crazed whore. But, of course, apart from servicing the staff, I was here to work, hence the uniform. I was always fucked before bed, so by lunchtime the next day I was already beginning to feel the cravings of my addiction. So Jane had power over me for almost all of the day. Even in the mornings I could barely resist her 'requests', so I served the whole family obediently as a maid. Apart from serving breakfast, most of the work was unsupervised until dinner, and for the rest of the evening I would wait on Jane and her family. Jane had included some commands in my training for evening work, which included always dressing as sexily as possible, walking with a pronounced wiggle, and talking in a breathy whisper. Jane had long since discovered that she could give me permanent commands, that would affect me as long as I could not resist them. Thus, in the mornings, I did not have to dress sexily if I resisted the impulse to do so, but by lunchtime I would be getting urges to change into lacy lingerie and minidresses. I could resist until the cravings for cum became too strong to resist, then I would dress myself up. In my early days of work, this was taken as a sign that I was ready for sex. But I could never really resist the commands that long, and it was easier to give in to them, so that eventually I was didn't even remember to try to resist them. Thus I began to always walk with a wiggle to my hips, and to talk huskily. Seeing my compliance, Jane began to add other commands. As a result, I began to always wear make-up, and higher and higher heels. I went about my job with grace and pride, and an increasing submissiveness, as I began to react naturally to orders and requests. I guess I became more feminine, and certainly became more flirtatious with men, under Jane's tutelage. I was gradually becoming a slave, to whoever wished to command me, and my actions constantly begged male attention. One evening, Jane took me with her to her room. She had me sit down. Then she spoke. "I've had fun, Davinia, great fun, but it's beginning to pale. Now, I can't decide. Should I allow you to become more addicted to cum, or to break the addiction? I can make you suck cock more than once a day, or I could prevent you doing it at all. What should I do?" She looked at me for an answer. I didn't know what to say. "You enjoy your life now, don't you?" "I don't think so, ma'am." I replied. I had been instructed to call all my employers 'sir' or 'ma'am'. "You enjoy the sex, though, don't you?" I thought a little about it. I was forced to enjoy it, and I had to do it, but underneath, I resented it. "Don't you?" "No, ma'am." "Then I guess your training isn't quite finished. I can't let you free yet. I guess I'll have to get rid of the old you completely. We'll start with that old command I gave you about remembering your dick during sex. That can go. And thenÉ" I looked myself over in the mirror. I was wearing nothing but my lingerie and a leather collar. The collar was padlocked around my neck, and the key was at this moment being given to my next john, along with a leash that would clip onto the collar. I heard the door. A man came in and I dropped my eyes instantly to the floor. He came into the room and walked around me, clipping the leash to my neck as he went. The next thing I felt was a brief moment of choking as he yanked me over to the bed and tied the leash to the headboard, with me lying face down. He yanked up my backside with strong hands and then he must've dropped his trousers so that he could take me doggy style. I was getting wet with anticipation for a great fucking, and then I felt the strap. Right across my soft cheeks! I squealed in pain and shock. "You have been a naughty girl, haven't you, Linda?" I don't know who this Linda is and I don't care, but he probably does. "Yes." I managed to say. SMACK! "Yes, what!?" "Yes, sir!" SMACK! "And are you sorry?" "Yes, sir!" SMACK! "Yes, sir, what!?" "Yes, sir, I'm sorry, I'll never do it again!" "That's good, Linda, but I'm still going to have to punish you." "That's all right, sir, I deserve it!" "Yes you do, so prepare yourself for five more with this belt." "Yes, sir!" SMACK! "Count them!" "Unh, yes, sir. One!" SMACK! "Two." SMACK! "Three." SMACK! "Four." SMACK! "Five!" "That's very good, Linda. I'm sorry I had to do that. Perhaps I can kiss it all better?" The poor john was crying. "Yes," I replied, "you can kiss it better." With that I felt his lips and tongue begin to explore my backside, quickly homing in on my crack, which by now was sopping wet in expectation. When he discovered this he removed his mouth to replace it with his cock, which was exactly what I wanted. At last I felt it pushing against my cunt lips, and with a little wiggle of my ass it slipped inside. It was small, not even filling my hole even in this position. I pushed back against the john, but it wouldn't come in any further. However, my action had caused the john to heat up, and I could feel him getting close to a climax. His urgency was compelling, and I could feel his dick inside me moving faster and more wildly. The realisation sent a shudder of pleasure through my body, and his pounding against my recently belted backside caused sparks of pain through my waist area which increased my sensitivity and my pleasure. As he came inside me I came too, feeling that constant elation that I get from a fresh supply of sperm. As I lay back down, he reached across me and took the leash off my collar, and released the padlock, setting me free. I lay there until he left, however. These johns can often be very touchy about the girls seeing their faces. "It's time to come home, Davinia." Jane was standing at the door, but I didn't look up. She came to stand behind me and clipped the leash onto my collar. She lead me to the cupboard and pulled out a leather suit for me to put on with a pair of 4 inch high heels. When I was dressed, she led me to her car and drove me back to her home. There she sent me to my room and told me to get dressed. I went straight to my old cupboard, and pulled out my old uniform. When I was properly attired, I returned downstairs to where Jane was waiting. "Now, Davinia, it's time to see whether you've learned your lesson, finally." Another door to the room opened, and Eddie came into the room. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and he looked so hot I started to drip, but I dropped my eyes straight away. Jane stood to whisper in my ear. "Here's the deal. If you refuse to have sex with Eddie when he asks, then I'll undo everything I've done to you, and I'll drink a vial of the chinaman's hypnotic mixture, so that you can do to me what you like. You had sex just before I picked you up, so you have no compulsion to obey me, or desire for sperm. Oh, and if you do have sex with Eddie, then I'm going to transform him into a girl, for betraying me, only I think I'll leave his dick for the both of you to enjoy." Jane turned and headed for the door. As she got there, she turned to Eddie. "I'm going into town for an hour. Davinia here will give you anything you need." The door closed. Eddie ran to the window and watched Jane's car head down the drive. He headed back over to me. "Davinia," he said, softly, "I've missed you so much!" With that his lips moved down to mine, and I melted into his arms. I tried for a moment to resist, but when his hands reached for my breasts fireworks began to go off in my head and I couldn't think straight. When he told me to strip I did so without question. When he told me to lie down on the couch my juices began to flow in hungry anticipation of his ripe cock. I tried to mention Jane's deal, but he told me to stay quiet and I complied with his every word. I realised that I was waving away my life, and probably his, but I felt unable to do anything other than what he said. I was only there to do as he wished and to fulfil all his desires. As his hands roamed my body I grabbed for his flies and yanked down his jeans. His expanding member sprang into my hands and I began to stroke it, imagining its length inside me, whilst fearing the consequences. Yet as Eddie slipped closer toward me, the consequences retreated from my mind, and my body began to beg for sexual release. "You betrayed yourself, Davinia, my dear, and you betrayed Eddie. Well, you didn't, but your body did, and now that I have trained it and you, I'm going to allow you to graduate from the Jane Richardson Finishing School. You may leave here, and do whatever you wish, or stay, if that's what you'd prefer. You could stay and help me convert Eddie into a she- male slut. Anyway, this is your last command from me. You will not ingest any sperm until you have broken your addiction to it. You know it will work. As your compulsion gets stronger, so will your obedience. When your addiction is broken, you will be free."
I spent the next five days in bed, with Jane looking in on me, and various nurses and doctors visiting. I spent the time either asleep, under sedation, or in pain. Pain so bad that sometimes I wished I was dead, but there was no relief. On the sixth day the pain was gone. Jane kept me in bed for one more day. I was well fed and watered, but she wouldn't allow me to get up until she was sure I was fully recovered. I did as she asked.
That evening, I received a new visitor. Jane came in with a maid that I didn't recognise. She was striking, being taller than Jane, and with an impressive bust thrusting forward in her dress. Jane introduced her. "Davinia, meet your replacement, Edwina."
I moved to get out of bed. "No, no, Davinia, stay there a moment if you would." I complied with the instruction. "I would like for you and Edwina to get to know each other." Jane turned to Edwina. "Here is the reason for your present predicament, Eddie. Perhaps you'd like to express your gratitude to her." With that, Edwina's face turned red. "You bitch, Davinia!" She screamed, but it was Eddie's voice. "No, Eddie," said Jane, calmly, "not a bitch, but a bastard. You see, that's your friend David." "That'll make this all the sweeter." Stated Eddie, more calmly, as he approached the bed, a growing bulge appearing in his skirt. He raised the skirt to reveal his hard erection, the second part of him which I recognised, and I realised I was about to get raped. For the first time in uncountable months I did not need sperm, but when I saw that cock I didn't care, I wanted it. Within seconds my juices were flowing, and I meekly submitted to every indignity that Eddie laid upon me. Every slap was a seduction of my will, and every bruise bore testimony to my passion, but the pleasure of that strong prick overrode all feelings. I wanted nothing else. Eddie threw me out of Jane's house straight after that incident. I returned to the city where I now work as a hooker, and live in the brothel. I had to join a brothel, because I kept forgetting to ask for the money when I was on the streets. You see, I'll do anything for sex, including go hungry, though I can nearly live off cum if I try hard enough. In the brothel I have a manager, and she keeps me fed and clothed. In return I get about twelve johns a day. The manager wants me to do some modelling, but I'm happiest in bed, doing any service my man requires. Any man.