‘You will be allowed to choose between removal and being numbed until you are discharged,’ said the intake nurse, when Roseo woke up in the hospital room.
It was a terrible choice, Roseo thought, but he said, ‘Numbed, please,’ because numbing until discharge meant it was reversible.
‘Very well. Open.’
He opened his mouth, and a thick, slightly soft white tube was pushed inside his mouth. ‘Swallow,’ was the order, and he did, ‘Swallow,’ with a hand on his neck. ‘Good girl.’
He couldn’t move, feeling the tube sliding further and further down his throat, until it hit his stomach and he heard—and felt—a hiss of air, as something inflated inside his belly, and then a jerk as it began to pump into him. He couldn’t protest being called a girl, either, though it didn’t bother him a great deal. He felt hands spreading something cold on his vulva, and felt a little shock of horror when they also spread it on his anal area. That was numbing gel, he could feel it starting to work…
The nurse filled a litre clyster with the numbing gel, sliding the thin nozzle inside the urethra and depressing the plunger slowly, forcing the gel inside the bladder, filling it slowly, watching it bulge. ‘Theeeere we are, nice and relaxed,’ she said, as she finished, pulling the nozzle free and sliding in an inflatable plug, using the hand-pump to expand the end. The tail of the plug extended far out of the urethra, which was on purpose.
She pried the vagina wide open with a speculum, until it was wider than the barrel of the clyster, then spread numbing gel all over the cervix, before using the cervical nozzle, long and thin, to slide inside the cervical opening, pushing more numbing gel inside the uterus, until it was bulging too.
‘Goood girl,’ she said, as she set the clyster aside and removed the speculum, rubbing more numbing gel on the naked vulva, concentrating on the clitoris, rubbing the gel beneath the hood, making sure the oversized clitoris was nice and soft with numbness before sliding the tiny needle in and starting to inject so much local anaesthetic that the clitoris began to engorge with it, inflating to three times its size, the inner lobes filling the vaginal passage, squeezed against one another. Next, she filled the labia minora and hood with the anaesthetic, until they too were swollen shiny and taut. She took up a needle and thread, sewing up the labia minora to close the vagina, leaving only a small hole at the top for the urethra, and filled the clyster again and slid the thicker nozzle into the small opening, past the urethra, filling the vagina with numbing gel.
Injecting the labia majora was a matter of attaching both to IV drips, along with the mons, that immediately began to swell the flesh, further pinching the entire vulva closed. It would have been very painful if the girl had been able to feel anything. When it was finished, the urethral plug was the only thing sticking out between the swollen labia majora.
‘Good girl, your vulva’s all done for now.’
She rubbed numbing gel on the anal area, inserting the large enema clyster and pushing two litres of numbing gel inside that rectum, before pushing the three-inch wide enema machine’s nozzle slowly inside. It would have been painful had the girl not been numb, but the relaxed, numb anal sphincter was able to stretch around it helplessly, wonderfully taut once the nozzle was seated.
‘Gooood girl, good, your body is nice and obedient now that you’re not overexcited….’
She turned the machine on, and it started to pump numbing solution deep inside the girl’s guts, expanding that belly even more. ‘You’ll be given injections of numbing serum in all your lower orifices three times a day,’ she said cheerfully, ‘and infusions during the night, to keep you nice and relaxed.’
All Roseo could feel was the pressure in his belly, the pleasure of satiety seeming louder now that it was the only pleasure he had. She threaded an oxygen tube under his nose, over his ears, and he heard hissing, smelled something sweet that immediately made him dizzy and disoriented.
She was putting a visor over his face, and he saw a spiral.
You want to do what the doctor says, said the spiral, endlessly, implacably repeating, as he felt the swelling in his belly, felt the heaviness increase, his body getting sleepier with every gush from the feeding hose down his throat….
⁂
One Year Later….
The Doctor came to check in on Rose, seeing her being forced to waddle on a treadmill, her anaesthetic-engorged genitals making that difficult. She’d been there a year, and despite lacking breasts when she’d come in, they’d put her on a weight-gaining diet, moving the fat accumulating on her sides and back into her chest, along with expanding implants, using suction on marked points to begin simulating nipples.
‘She’s gaining weight very well,’ the nurse reported. ‘Two or three pounds a week. Her metabolism is fast enough that we’ve had to double her numbing doses.’
‘Good,’ said the doctor, watching as the treadmill stopped, and Rose was fitted with nipple suction. ‘And her new teats?’
‘Numbed as well, of course, doctor,’ the nurse answered, as the suction started to pull the bruised tips of the pseudoteats up the cylinders.
‘Good. Has she forgotten who she is, yet?’
‘There are no longer underlying thoughts or desires, other than those of a basal animal brain.’
‘Excellent. I think we shall continue to keep her at that level, and not program any Ladylike thought patterns. She can never be a lady, after all.’
‘Her breasts are ready to have more put into the implants, doctor,’ said the nurse attending Rose. He went over and gently tied the base of each breast with an elastic, then took up the needle, sliding it into her skin and into the port in the implant, injecting and watching her breast inflate, not stopping until the skin was taut and shiny with tension, then doing the same to the other breast. He removed the suction cylinders, and the nurse pinched the reddened pseudo-nipple with forceps, holding it out from the taut curve of the breast as the doctor tied some elastic in a knot around the ‘base’, then started to stretch the elastic, winding it farther and farther down, forming a nipple by force, tying off the base when he had wrapped it around enough times to form two inches of nipple.
‘Leave her like this for twenty-four hours, then untie the base and put her breasts in suction for an hour, then untie her nipples and put them in suction for a further hour, before re-tying them.’
With this treatment, they forced her body to have breasts again, the constant suction and ties moulding the body until they could inject the nipple with botox to further cement its shape. The next time her implants were changed out for larger ones, they moved the port to the nipple, creating an opening and putting in a plug they could remove and attach to the port in the expanding implants.
Once she’d gained enough fat for them to make her breasts the right size, her skin was tattooed with the right pigmentation for areolae and nipples, and they finalised the restoration of her bosom, each teat nine beautiful pounds of fat, her nipples two inches long and one inches wide, her areolae four inches across and puffy, which greatly increased her bride-price.
When they were done curing her hysteria, Rose didn’t remember anything about how she’d come to be at the doctor’s sanitorium.
⁂
Patient 27
Time in Treatment: Two years
Recovery: Full
Original Case Severity: High
‘And this is Rose, she’s been here a long time due to her advanced case; but with the right treatment, you can see her femininity restored.’
The visitors looked through a one-way mirror at Rose, who was in a display chair, her belly swelling as she was pumped to her maximum capacity, a few gallons in her numbed guts, one and a half in her bladder, her stomach able to stretch around two gallons.
‘She’s doubled her weight in our care, and submits to her hysteria treatment very well. She is still high-strung, despite repeated neural rinses and vision-weakening treatments, but she calms once you fill her enough.’
Her pupils were a beautiful, delicate violet, unfocussed, and her expression was vacant.
The doctor manipulated her heavy teats, showing off their consistency, heavy and drooping down on either side of her belly, despite their fullness. ‘We had to restore her teats, unfortunately they are only decorative; but they can be inflated further, if desired.’ He reached around to shake her belly in his hands, and she squirmed, but held still. ‘We’ve given the upper entrance to her stomach a one-way valve, so she can no longer vomit. This means you can stretch her stomach further if you so desire. Good girl, Rose,’ he said to her, and left the room.
‘She does not orgasm,’ he said, as the machine inserted a speculum into Rose’s swollen vagina, the paddles of it spreading the swollen-taut labia majora. Rose didn’t even whimper. ‘Her entire vulva is numbed, but as you can see it’s very tight. So much so that her urethra had to be intubated.’
Once the speculum was pulled out, the half-inch tube from her urethra was the only thing that emerged from her swollen, pink labia majora.
‘She takes it very well indeed,’ the Doctor went on, as he set the machine to insert a blunt metal dilator, lubricated with numbing gel. He set the speed and power, and let them watch the machine fuck her, Rose’s stuffed belly shaking, her copious fat reserves jiggling with the movement. But she herself was limp as a ragdoll, her face making clear she couldn’t feel anything.
‘She really is numb?’ asked one of the masked buyers, watching Rose’s plump labia shudder and redden with the thrusting.
‘Absolutely and totally, we have saturated her ano-genital area, and her nipples, with numbing agents for the entire time she has been here. Once bought by one of you, of course, you may continue to numb her or introduce her body to pleasure again as you choose. I personally recommend locking her in complete chastity or removing her arms so that she cannot feel pleasure except by your hand. Bidding starts now.’
⁂
In the end, Rose was passed over, and the Doctor kept her in treatment permanently, showing her off as a kind of advertisement for the wonders his treatment could do, all while she sat, groped and inflated and stretched and jiggled while groups of patrons and prospective clientele looked at her with awe and no little horror.
No one would ever know where Roseo Peregrine had gone that day when he’d gotten lost on a foggy backroad. The swollen, limbless display doll in Doctor Crosse’s Sanitorium certainly would never be able to remind anyone ever again, even if it did remember.
Late at night, when it was only the Doctor, he would look through the one-way mirror and smile to himself, smugly. He knew there was no such thing as hysteria. He knew the inflated, immobile slug he’d made of Roseo was not necessary treatment but personal desire. He knew, but he was the only one left that knew the full enormity of what he’d done to her, what he’d taken—her entire self, some might say her entire soul. And he was convincing others that their wives, their daughters, their sisters, their female prisoners, needed the same. And he would do some variation to them, take some portion of their Self away while he inflated and manipulated their bodies into whatever shape he wanted. The thought pleased him.
And then he set the machine to pump another few gallons into her, and went to bed, hearing her helpless, muffled noises of distress echoing in her little room behind him.
Today, he’d gotten six more people to sign away a helpless, vulnerable subject to him. All because of how well he’d sold the process using Rose as his sample case.