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Description
Story
The last thing you remember was that you drove home from college. Now you have woken up here. Alone in a large room, stripped of all clothes and belongings. The air was uncomfortably cold on your exposed body. Your wrists, upper arms, ankles, waist, and neck were bound with straps. You squirmed and tugged on the binds, but you quickly figured out that you couldn’t stand up or manipulate the bondage.
As you looked around, you noticed other tables like the one you were bound to, albeit those were empty. As your gaze traveled through the room, you spot tables, desks, vials, syringes, scalpels, pill containers, and other various medical equipment. The for hospitals and laboratories so typical odor hit your nose.
When you attempted to scream out your fear in the desperate hope that someone would come to help, you became aware of the ballgag, irremovably sitting in your mouth. Scared, helpless, and vulnerable, you’re shaking uncontrollably.
Waiting was the only option given to you. To fight off panic, you attempted to distract yourself by remembering what must have happened. Your memories were hazy at best, but Math class just had ended, and you did walk to your car. The short drive home went by uneventfully until---yes---halfway, a black van aggressively pulled at the side of your car and forced you from the street. You had to stop your car. Masked man, much larger than you jumped out of the black van---. Then---then---yes you remember---they dragged you out of your car---and put a cloth over your mouth---it smelled---. Chloroform? It had to be---. Then nothing---until now.
Steps! You were immediately back in the present. Then the sound of a door opening, this door, the one to this very room. The room where you’re lying bound to a table naked and defenseless. Your heart skipped a beat. Whoever will enter was unlikely to be a friend. But someone involved in your abduction. As one thing was certain to you, this was not an elaborate prank. You were in danger more than ever before in your life.
A red Squirrel in a lab coat entered while typing something on his tablet. He barely glanced at you before he continued to enter data, apparently satisfied with the fact that you were indeed here and awake. The Squirrel approached a close-by desk with a computer and sat down. He typed, clicked, and looked intensely on the screen. Minutes passed, then some more. You raged. You rattled on your bindings, you screamed in your ballgag, but the Squirrel ignored you. Minutes kept passing by. The Squirrel kept ignoring you.
It must have been more than an hour before the Squirrel had finished and stood up and moved toward you. Immediately you stopped rattling and screaming. Instead, you began to shake. Suddenly you longed to be ignored. Tears welled up. Your fear increased, and you became once more aware of your nudity and vulnerability.
The gaze of the Squirrel made immediately apparent that he won’t help you. In fact, he probably didn’t even regard you as a person. He looked at you like one would look at a stain on his white shirt. He was annoyed by your existence at best, disgusted at worst.
You were petrified by fear as the Squirrel approached. You didn’t even dare to breathe. Definitely not a prank. You were not just in trouble; you were doomed. Even without the gag you knew, nothing you could say to him would change your fate. He despised you or what you were---for whatever reason.
Muffled screams once more echoed through the room as you noticed the large syringe in the hand of the evil Squirrel who now stood at the end of the table. You yelled, tugged, and cried as panic overwhelmed you---shook your head no and trying to plead with your captor. But the Squirrel just smiled and readied up to ram the syringe into your body. Placed as it was, you noticed, despite your panic, that it would penetrate your helplessly exposed balls. Your screams turned into a high-pitched shriek.
“Shush,” the Squirrel suddenly said, “don’t make such a fuss. You’re just a Mouse” the word Mouse he spat out like it was a cuss. “an inferior rodent breed. Serving science is the best one of your kind can hope for.” His expression of absolute disgust reappeared on his face. Like he had to hold back from throwing up just by looking at you.
And then, in one quick motion, the syringe penetrated your precious sensitive balls---stabbed deeply into your flesh. The loudest scream you ever emitted wasn’t half-finished before you mercifully passed out.
Mercifully you didn’t witness as the Squirrel stabbed two more syringes into your chest. Neither were you aware that he drew some of your blood for further analysis. The humiliating procedure of measuring testicles went by unnoticed too. The Squirrel took great diligence in measuring accurately the circumference and length of your cock. Later he pushed an inflatable sound into your urethra to measure its volume---he was impressed. He forced your eyelids open and checked your eyes with a flashlight. He checked your big ears as well. So, he continued to examine your nude and unconscious body for more than an hour.
Much later, you woke up. Though it was impossible to tell how much time had elapsed. But the soul-shattering stinging pain that made you pass out had subsided to a throbbing ache. Highly unpleasant, but not maddening. You lifted your head until the leather strap connected to the collar around your neck stopped you. To your horror, the syringe was still stuck in your balls. A tube was attached to it and pumped a drug directly into your testicles. There were two similar syringes stuck in your chest too. But at least the Squirrel was gone for now. Once more, you resided alone in the laboratory. Left with your fear, shame, and pain. While your body was slowly filled up with drugs that might do god knows what to you.
Suddenly a weird liquid began to fill your mouth. That’s when you noticed the tube connected to your ball gag. You either had to swallow what came out of it or choke to death. The gag sat too tightly to spit it all out. With one option less appealing than the other, gulp after gulp, the gross liquid entered your stomach. Tears welled up when you thought you couldn’t take more of that taste---the aroma of rotten eggs or something similar nasty. After many minutes of choking, gagging, and swallowing, it subsided. Yet, the taste accompanied you for many hours before it finally dissipated.
The Squirrel didn’t reappear today. Neither on the next or the day after. Days where you did nothing but being mortified as your body continuously was filled up with drugs. Only interrupted by minutes of disgust when the rotten liquid was forced down your throat in regular intervals. You never had to pee or shit. Why? You didn’t know. Was it because of what you were fed? Maybe. A week must have passed before he saw you again.
The Squirrel went straight to his Laptop and, like the first time, didn’t consider you at all. Not even a glance this time to check if you’re there and awake. He worked for about two hours. He typed on the keyboard, clicked on the Mouse, looked intensely at the screen. You could do nothing but being terrified. This time though, you didn’t scream. Pathetic whimpers and moans that could be interpreted as desperate begging were heard by the Squirrel coming from your part of the room. But he ignored you. Tears ran down your cheeks. How could the Squirrel be so cruel? Why did he do that to you? Why you?
Finally, he approached you. Or maybe rather the table that happened to be the one you were bound to. He still looked at the Mouse on it with utmost disregard. If he had to choose to save the table or you, he’d choose the table. You were sure about that.
Your face turned crimson as he lifted your cock and began measuring its length and girth as if it would be the most normal thing in the world. Can one be more humiliated? Yes came the quick answer, not in words, but in deeds. The Squirrel pulled back your foreskin and measured again. He then weighed your balls.
Wait, you were confused, aside from being deeply humiliated---but---. “Did they get bigger?” You wondered. Now that your attention was pulled toward them. They seemed to be indeed larger, not much, but noticeable. After all, you knew your balls quite well. And last time you thoroughly engaged with them was when you masturbated to some nice pole dancing Mouse video on your phone, the day before you got kidnapped.
Your cock seemed to have grown as well? What’s going on? No--that can’t be true! They did not abduct you just to experiment with some shit that increases the size of testicles!? That’s ridiculous! Your mind became hazy.
When your shock about the state of your cock and testicles, as well as Squirrel’s doings, subsided, your gaze wandered toward your chest. Until now, you did your best to ignore the syringes placed there. Therefore only now you noticed the two small bulges that---. You didn’t want to think it---. Did you grow breasts? That couldn’t be! But your nipples seemed to have increased in size as well. What were they doing to you? This just could not be real! Things like this don’t happen! Abducted and experimented with? With drugs that give you a bigger cock and balls---and tits. Unreal and shameful---and precisely the situation you found yourself in.
With great surprise, it was brought to your awareness that you could be indeed more embarrassed after all that. The Squirrel had just begun to casually masturbate your cock. You blushed even more than before---however that was possible.
You didn’t want that attention! No---wrong---you wanted it, you were horny---needier than ever before. One shouldn’t be that horny after a week of stress and fear. Yet your cock seems to think it had been denied for a year---at least. Still, despite your body disagreeing, you didn’t want his attention, and especially not this kind.
Bizarrely enough, he neither seemed to feel any enthusiasm in masturbating your rod. He rubbed your cock with neither joy nor effort. Yet despite the lackluster handjob, your cock quickly grew. Though as soon as you were rock hard, the Squirrel stopped dead immediately. You moaned and whimpered. You desired more and yearned for release. Right now cumming appeared even more desirable than freedom. The Squirrel, though, bothered, neither for your pleasure nor for your freedom.
Instead, the evil rodent simply measured your rock-hard cock, as he did with your flaccid cock before. Lastly, the Squirrel approached your chest and gave your---yes, believe it, Mouse---your tits a closer look. After that, he seemed to be satisfied and left the room. Without having spoken a single word to you.
This pattern continued. He visited once a week, worked a few hours on the Laptop, measured your bits, and left. He never spoke to you. Otherwise, you were alone with your fear. The time passed slowly. Your limbs got stiff over time, albeit never to the degree that they hurt. Maybe something in the drugs or food that helped to not cramp up too much? Maybe.
Half a year has passed, and you haven’t left the table you’re still bound to since. The size of your cock and balls you’d describe as shocking. And they kept growing with every day passing. And with that, you got hornier. Unbelievable and unmanageably horny. You moaned like an absolute slut all day. You were leaking precum nonstop, and your balls were about to explode.
Yet, not only what was going on down there concerned you. The pressure on your breasts increased too over time, and you began to lactate. You couldn’t believe it. You lactated like a pregnant woman. And---you desired to be milked. You wanted to have milked both your needy cock and your ample breasts. But neither happened. The Squirrel still measured you once a week. Otherwise, though, your body received no touch.
You’re wondering if you’d be still able to walk with your oversized balls. You asked yourself if you’ll ever walk again, or if the Squirrel will keep you bound on that table forever? Will this horror ever end?
At one point, instead of leaking precum, your cock had begun to shoot cum instead. Your own fluid landed inconveniently in your own face. Yet despite constantly dispensing cum, no feeling of release reached your body or mind. Your horniness instead increased. However that was possible.
The Squirrel visited today, despite having been here just yesterday, and which had been quite an unusual visit too. He hadn’t done his Laptop and measuring business. Instead, he gave you piercings through your nose, lactating nipples, and an absurdly big one through your equally absurdly sized penis.
You didn’t understand and had screamed. It had been a while since you cried. Since you spent the past months mostly apathetic. Even your moans had died down, and only the occasional whimper had escaped your mouth. Yet this new degradation was too much, and while he forced the piercings into you, you screamed like on the first day. Not that the Squirrel bothered.
Today though, he wasn’t alone. He was in the company of two felines. Which clearly weren’t here to help you either. A Lion and a Leopard. Both buff and mean-looking. You listened as they talked.
“My experiments are done. I’m not going to get anything else out of this one. Take him.”
“Sure, Doc. Anything to mind about him?”
“Nah, normal Mouse scum. Do with him what you want. Pierced him already for you. Seems you guys like that.”
“Sure, Boss. Thank you, Boss. We’ll take good care of him. The gang will have a good laugh when they see him. Damn! What did you do to his balls?”
“My business. Curiosity kills the cat, you know? Mind your own business and let me do the research. Take him, play with him, or whatever you do with my expired guinea pigs. I need a new one in about two months.”
“Sure Boss, new Mouse in two Months. Consider it done.”
Then the Lion approached you with a cloth that he pressed over your nose. You smelled the Chloroform, and after few moments, your world went black.
AmazInky
Membervolatus always manages to make some fucked up situations look appealing, and I don't know jow he does it :p
great work.
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