This disclaimer must
be read before reading further:
The following story is
fictional and contains explicit pornographic material; it is not for minors or
the close-minded.
Alex Streuth is the
pseudonym of the author and a fictional character in these stories. Any characters, places, businesses and/or
circumstances etc. described herein are entirely fictional. None of the following is based on real
organisms or organizations, and any semblance to anyone or anything real,
living, deceased or imaginary, (except where specifically noted in the
‘Continuity and Background’ and ‘Literary Notes’ sections) is purely
coincidental.
This story is
copyrighted (June 2005) by the author with permission granted to make copies
only for personal use, they may not be redistributed to others.
The author cannot be
responsible for the existence or delivery of any content which some may find
offensive; reader be warned, by continuing further with this document you agree
not to hold any party responsible for the delivery or existence of its
contents.
Due to the extreme
nature of the following material the author advises anyone who has stumbled
across this document by mistake to destroy it if it is in the form of a hard
copy, or to delete it and then write over its memory address if it is a soft
copy.
Thank you and enjoy
the following quality presentation.
--
Continuity and Background:
This story takes place within the charming
dominion of
My influences come from the
writings and imagination of Benson and Gord as well as fiction from
mygagorder.com and thundershrk. The
prominent themes are humiliation, degradation, mental conditioning, transformation,
modification, bimbofication, objectification, big boobs, huge lips, forced
feeding, dehumanization, helpless females, Dominant males, and long term
suffering and servitude.
---
Authors Note: No
disrespect is intended to cancer patients, sufferers, or oncologists in this
story, and the author would like to take a moment to clarify that the medical
treatment of cancer sufferers is a serious matter and is not meant to be mocked
or derided by this story, the derision herein is intended towards the heroine
in the story, and the fact that various medical techniques and content are
ancillary to her degradation are not intended as a degradation towards the
established ‘real’ medical community or cancer sufferers anywhere, thank you.
---
About the Author: My hobbies include collecting, examining, and
designing. I sometimes come across
inspiring stories or goings-on about Cherish and have been asked by the
“Committee for the Preservation of the Historical Record of Proper Female
Deportment” (the CPHD) to assemble and detail these accounts for posterity.
Authorship Disclosure: The following material originates from
personal first-person observations, from video recordings, diaries, medical and
scientific notes and other privately held (and confidential) sources, as well
as from public town events and records.
I then transpose these accounts into the third person and pen these
tales in my free time. While this is
intended as a work of non-fiction for Cherish public record some dramatic and editorial license has been
taken to help increase readership interest.
Also, as I am extremely busy
not all of the gathered data can be included in each presentation. If you are an accredited researcher with a genuine
academic interest you may be allowed access to more extensive information. In order to request this more thorough (and
graphically detailed) explanation of certain material presented, please send
your request (noting with which area of record your particular interest lies)
to Streuthanasia@gmail.com.
The Insidious
Mr. Fipps
Prologue
Valerie Withrop was a smart, athletic, motivated young woman. She had an above average IQ and a body that she kept taut and fit through rigorous exercise. She ran several miles a day, studied hard in college towards her business degree, and exuded charisma. She often had several other women in her entourage as she went about her daily activities.
She was an active participant in women’s rights demonstrations on campus, often inciting her fellow females at the rallies to more violent behavior. (Once she had brought several male mockups and a baseball bat with her and gathered a throng of supporters while she furiously beat the male effigies to death.)
She was a strong woman, and proud of it. Any man she took to bed she made sure understood that she would brook no lip from, and kept him on a firm leash in public (figuratively, of course.)
Complimenting her firm self discipline was a stunning form, her raven mane curling about her shoulders she stood 5’ 7” and weighed 140lbs, mostly all muscle. She had tight curves, strong, muscular thighs and calves, and had begun weight training to increase her biceps and forearms. All in all she was the perfect poster child for female empowerment.
--
“Yes, I see the problem,” Alex Streuth nodded, perusing the documents handed him. “Yes,” he continued to the man opposite him, Mr. Fipps, a fine upstanding gentleman of Cherish, “of course we can do something for you Mr. Fipps.” Fipps raised an eyebrow and stabbed the air vigorously with his finger. “I understand sir, full discretion will be exercised, and we should have her for you by the end of the week. You do understand though, that the subject in question is neither meek nor without means. This will be an expensive job.” Streuth gave Mr. Fipps, a man known about town for being both extraordinarily wealthy as well as inordinately frugal, a quizzical look. Streuth put it bluntly, “She will cost you.”
“I, understand,” Fipps weezed “and, you have,” he paused, swallowing, “no expense should, be spared, to,” he caught his breath, his frail, elder form in poor health, “acquire her.” Mr. Reginald Fipps gave Streuth a hard look. “I am given, to understand, that you are, the man, to see, about, difficult,” he paused to catch his breath again, wheezing breezily, “acquisitions, and are not, concerned, by matters, of protocol.”
“My dear Mr. Fipps,” Streuth countered cheerily, “I am a practical man, a business man, and you can rest assured that your order will be completed as desired.” Streuth beamed fluidly at R.J. Fipps, reassuringly.
“Good, good, Streuth, just,” Reginald choked a bit on his words, having to inhale quickly and deeply to adjust himself, then continued after he was composed “get it, done . . . as soon, as you can.” Fipps’ squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and then continued after swallowing, “Have the, Doctor, rush it. . . its, top priority, for you, under, stand?” He put a hand over his chest and grimaced but gave Alex another withering look.
“Of course, of course my dear Sir,” Alex hurried to assure Fipps, a wealthy client, “all other orders are of course on hold, we are giving this one first priority.” Alex leaned in conspiratorially. “Your generous contributions to Streuth Industries are extremely appreciated, and,” Streuth widened his smile “extremely lubricating to this operation.” Streuth sneered down at the photos in front of him, some of them depicting the young Ms. Withrop in some more private moments, imagining delightfully how her world was about to change.
Normally this type of operation would not be dared. Ms. Withrop was too well known on campus, and had too vibrant of a future ahead of her to not be missed. Given the financial backing of the venture however, and with the new formation of Streuth’s private acquisition company, (Streuth Industries, which operated outside of the purview of Cherish Valley’s general guidelines and review) thanks largely in part to Mr. Fipps’ generous contributions . . . riskier endeavors could be undertaken.
This was to be the maiden voyage of Streuth’s new company, and there were several upstanding citizens in town eager to see how well it turned out. If it was a success, Streuth knew that he would have clients lined up at the door to have his more aggressive acquisition service utilized. The major advantage of using Streuth Industries to get what you wanted, he said in his sales pitch, is that not only do we take all of the hassle out of obtaining and modifying your target to design specifications, but no longer do you have to limit yourself to the amount of risk that the ‘Cherish Board of Means and Ways’ deems acceptable.
--
A new dawn was breaking in Cherish, and Alex was firmly poised to cash in on the exclusivity of the services he was now offering. (There were kickbacks to be paid out, of course, staying the only unofficial purveyor of high-risk goods about town wasn’t cheap, but Alex had masterfully orchestrated Streuth Industries into position, and now the men of Cherish could entrust even more depraved orders into his care, so long as they were able to pay the expensive premiums for the quality services he now offered.
Having maneuvered skillfully in the inner politics of Cherish for quite some time, Alex was happy to see that his baby was finally ready to take off. Streuth Industries was about to serve its first client by not only transforming the young Valerie into the figure depicted in the documents he was currently delightfully immersed in, but also crafting a grand deception for her ‘benefit.’
Chapter Once, Voices
in the Ether
Valerie, Valerie . . .
Wake up, wake up Valerie . . .
Valerie awoke to a bright and cheerful day in Cherish, slowly opening her eyes to survey her new surroundings, her mind foggy under the haze of the dissipating anesthesia.
Her body was clothed mostly in gauze and bandages, a sure sign that she had undergone radical surgery, yet she could not remember recent events, and in fact had no recollection of anything before finishing up a swim meet just a few moments ago and walking into the showers. She vaguely remembered a sort of incident in the showers but the details were not forthcoming to her cobwebbed brain.
--
Still fully in possession of her mental faculties despite the memory lapse, she blinked, squinted, and attempted to get up--bits of pain exploded in her body as it refused to follow her nervous system’s orders to move. She appeared to be in a hospital bed, in a hospital room, surrounded by hospital equipment. A young man slowly came into view, he was wearing a Doctor’s uniform (a realistic one), and upon entering the room he moved next to her bed and looked down at her apprehensively.
“We weren’t sure you were going to make it. I am glad to see you are awake,” the young man, a young actor in the employ of Mr. Fipps’ and an applicant to become a full member of the Cherish community, began reading from his memorized script, gravely adding “You have suffered a major accident, and you have been taken to this hospital.”
He failed to mention that the ‘hospital’ in question resided
in
--
“I know this is a lot to take in so I have had the Doctor who performed your life saving operations write up a summary of your procedures here so that it can inform you fully of the changes that have had to been made in order to preserve your life,” the aid continued. Meanwhile Mr. Fipps was savoring the drama he had paid for, the drama that months of planning had gone into, from a voyeuristic pleasure room just next door.
Valerie bolted upright at the shocking words, then cringed and settled back down into her padded bed, her body essentially still in traction despite the seeming lack of necessary peripherals (her body was lying on the bed in perfect tranquility, no straps attached, just unable to move without causing her great deals of pain.)
“Careful my dear, that’s healing. Please don’t try to move too much, your body has suffered grievous injuries and must rest to recuperate.” Reginald Fipps grinned at the carefully crafted patronization of the young beauty that his aid was handling expertly. So luscious in her helplessness, he thought, savoring her delightful awakening into her new life.
He congratulated Doctor Spencer, who was also with him for the ‘unveiling’ and who stood next to Fipps in the viewing room that looked in on the female subject. Fipps congratulated the Doctor for his ability to introduce the defects into the young girl’s muscles that made her weak and unable to move without great deals of pain. “Its, a, wonderful, job . . .” Fipps gasped in admiration of the Doctor’s ability.
“Thank you,” the Doctor replied, “it’s nice to have an appreciative and imaginative client to thank for procuring for me such a fine specimen to do such nice work on.” Doctor Spencer sipped from his bottle of mineral water and took a few notes as to the patient’s reactions.
--
Her condition was a pharmaceutically induced one; Doctor Spencer explained to Mr. Fipps, she was not about to ‘get better’ or to recover from the condition thrust upon her, because she was in actuality completely fine. There was nothing wrong with her. The pain she experienced was due to an intravenous feed of a chemical that Spencer had developed which made moving the body painful and encouraged those receiving it to lie still. There was no reason not to convince the girl that she was ‘sick’ and could be treated for her condition, however. Indeed, let’s get her hopes up, Fipps wheezed, that’s the best part of the plan:
“It shouldn’t take too long for you to recover full capabilities in your arms and legs,” the aid in the ‘hospital’ room continued, “Your body should respond to physical therapy and make a full recovery.” He smiled benignly down on the pitiful young girl, his acting a perfect facsimile of care and concern, “While you continue your stay in this recuperation facility please do not hesitate to make a call upon me if you need anything.” He indicated a button that could be pushed, which lay beside her bed. “My name is Dr. Hope and I will be taking care of you during your recovery. I am going to place this document detailing the specifics of the operations, and the subsequent care instructions you must follow, by your bed so that you may read it at your leisure.”
--
This document had been carefully crafted by Dr. Spencer, (‘Dr. Hope’ being only a character, possessed no real medical background.) It would convince the young girl that several radical operations of impeccable character had been performed, valiantly, and in the girl’s best interest, to preserve her and to treat what had previously been an undiagnosed cancer.
She had fallen down in the shower and blacked out (Streuth’s acquisition team had gassed the chamber and absconded with her) and the document she was now left with explained this as the first ‘symptoms’ of her treatable but advanced cancer. She would be in for a long recuperation, the document continued, but with treatment, and patience, she would persevere. She might feel weak, the document warned, but that was simply part of the battle her body would need to wage with the ‘cancer.’
--
In fact the young Ms. Withrop was a perfectly healthy young woman who had simply fallen into the maniacal clutches of the Insidious Mr. Fipps. While he watched eagerly (and secretly) from next door, a bulge growing in his pants, his actor, Doctor Hope, continued “When you are ready for some food let me know and I will be more than happy to bring it for you. I am here to take care of you. It is my goal to make your stay and recuperation here as painless and comfortable as possible,” Doctor Hope baldly lied through his perfect, shiny white smile.
He turned and left the horrified and scared, yet somewhat comforted, young girl alone to read, painfully (as turning the pages caused burning sensations in her muscles) the tell-tale document which pronounced her sentence. She was to be here no less than nine months, under the care and supervision of the medical staff, until, it was thought, she would make a full recovery and could be released.
Chapter 2, Hospital
food
“I’m strong, I can do this” Valerie told herself. “I just need to hang in there, this cancer won’t beat me, I’m strong, I’m strong” she repeated this mantra to herself. It was hard, for the young and capable woman to deal with, the fact that she was now virtually helpless. The slightest movement of her arms or legs caused her great deals of pain, and she found it easier to not move, to lie still. Groaning miserably she pushed the red button which would summon her nurse. Mr. Fipps enjoyed watching her struggle to do so, and found himself clapping for her patronizingly when she finally managed to push the big red button.
Fipps waited a few moments, until Valerie struggled to push it again, before allowing Dr. Hope, who sat beside him in the viewing room, enjoying the proceedings as much as his elder sponsor, to return to the young morsel. If ‘Hope’ did this charade for Fipps, which, he admitted, was rather enjoyable, and played his part well, then at some point Fipps would nominate him for acceptance into the community of Cherish. Leaning in to hear the instructions Fipps was giving him, the actor smiled and nodded briskly, his eyes squinting as he internalized the scene he was about to play out, and then quickly exited to re-enter the hospital room.
“Hello, is there anything I can do for you Ma’am?” Dr. Hope smiled convincingly.
“Yes,” and it hurt to talk, oh it hurt so badly, she would have to limit her speech, to make every word count . . . “food.”
“Of course, right away.” Dr. Hope beamed care and affection to the young helpless woman and then retreated quickly to exit the room.
Next door again Fipps was selecting the meal the young girl was about to be fed. It was packaged like hospital food, of course, so that it would appear genuine. This was the first part of what delighted him about his carefully concocted plan. He would have his ‘Doctor’ explain that some of her taste centers might have been affected by the cancer and that things might taste different than they would normally. With that disclaimer she would then be allowed to try different meals, one after another, until she found one that she liked.
Of course the helpless woman’s taste centers still functioned completely normal, she was a completely healthy young woman besides the debilitating serum she was being given intravenously through the I.V. which kept her nerves sensitive and caused them pain when she moved.
If at any time she were to be taken off of the I.V. for an extended period she would slowly lose the pain in her joints and muscles and be a fully functioning female again . . . But that wasn’t something that Fipps wanted to see happen. Instead the document explained that the I.V. was a pain reliever which would help to reduce her discomfort while she recovered.
Valerie’s body was fully intact and unmodified, including her taste buds. The foods that she were to be given looked just like real steak, potatoes, etc. and indeed they were, they had just had a nasty additive given them which would cause them to taste revolting. It was Fipps’s desire to convince Valerie that something was wrong with her, and that she needed to follow Doctor’s orders to get better. To that end the normal food was coated with the nasty syrup, while the mush that was to be offered to her last (and contained all manner of foul things, Reginald’s leftovers ground up, his toe lint, some of his urine and feces, as well as a large dollop of his fresh cum which he was adding now, were mixed into the paste which was then given nutrients and a sweet flavoring) was to become her favorite dish. As Fipps’s finished depositing his load into her next meal he smiled blissfully in delight and then motioned for Dr. Hope to take the trays to the victim.
--
Valerie lay still in the bed, waiting for her caretaker to return. Impatiently and hungrily she looked up at the ceiling, counting the tiles, waiting. Finally in he walked “Hello, I hope you’re hungry, we’ve got a few great dishes for you to try. First let me explain that due to the condition you’re in you may experience funny taste reactions to the food you’re used to eating, it’s a common side effect of late stage cancer treatment but I hope that it shouldn’t be too much of a discomfort for you.” He smiled lovingly at her, showing her he cared for her and wished her the best. Valerie smiled in return, certain that it couldn’t be that bad, and that the food might taste fine after all. She opened her mouth to show that she was hungry, but did not speak since it was painful.
“Alright, I can see you want some dinner, let me just cut this steak up for you into little pieces.” It was actually rather humiliating to be in this position, helpless as she was, but, there wasn’t anything she could do about it, she would just have to be strong. “Here you go a nice juicy piece of steak. . . “
Valerie grimaced as the nasty tasting steak was put into her mouth, the perfectly wholesome piece of meat had been besmirched by the foul syrup placed on all of the normal food that was to be given her and she spat it back out. “Oh, I can see that perhaps your taste buds aren’t functioning normally after all. Here let me try the next piece just to make sure. . .” Doctor Hope surreptitiously took a piece of steak off of the other end, one that had not been coated in the vile-tasting liquid and popped it into his mouth, chewing it slowly and savoring its taste. “Mmmm, delicious. Well, let’s try some other food. I am prepared; I expected that this common reaction might occur. I am sure that in a few months everything should normalize. Let’s try the next tray, this one’s chicken, tell me how this tastes . . .” Valerie shuddered again as the nasty tasting meat, perfectly normal in every regard, was put into her mouth, and she spat it back out again almost immediately. Next she tasted the veal, then the vegetables, the potatoes, and several others before it was agreed that she would probably be best put on something easier for her, something she wouldn’t have to chew or keep long in her mouth.
“Here you go,” the aid continued patiently, trying to keep his voice from sounding too eager to get Fipps’ paste, finally, where it belonged. “Try this one, it’s the last thing I brought, its sort of a backup, its soft and mushy and is normally rather bland and tasteless, but its got all kinds of good things in it for your body.” He smiled thinking of what was actually in it. Valerie nodded and obediently opened her mouth to accept the nondescript paste, still extraordinarily hungry, and then, surprisingly, she slurped it all down and smiled at how good it tasted. It was sweet! “Mmmm, that tastes good, like pudding” she thought, “That’s not bad at all.” Meanwhile the droppings and different additions to the paste continued to worm their way down into her stomach where they plopped to stay. She had eagerly accepted Fipps’s waste in the guise of the sweet-flavored gunk like candy on her lips. “Ahh ahh” she said, excited by the food that, finally, tasted good.
“Okay, open up wide, that’s a girl, I’m glad you like this one, there’s really nothing else to feed you.” Dr. Hope continued to spoon the helpless girl the nasty paste that Fipps had prepared for her. She eagerly accepted it and swallowed it all, pleased by how nice it tasted. Mr. Fipps, observing the whole exchange, smiled evilly at the ignorant girl’s plight, stroking himself to erection once more, before depositing his sticky load into the vat of paste which was to be the girl’s next meal.
Mr. Fipps checked a box off on his sheet of things to get the girl to acquiesce to, albeit in ignorance, and moved on to the next one.
Chapter 3, Skin Care
“Hi Valerie,” Dr. Hope walked into the room for a morning check-up. “How are you today?”
“It hurts Doctor.”
“Where does it hurt?” Dr. Hope had refined his ability to fake compassion and concern over the past few weeks that Valerie had been growing accustomed to life in Fipps’ ‘Petri Dish’ as he called it.
“All over,” Valerie moaned.
Fipps had taken to referring to Valerie while observing her
privately from the viewing room as his ‘little paramecium’ or sometimes as just
‘
“Just look at her Hope,” Fipps had taken to referring to his man by the character name, in order to help maintain continuity in the charade, “Such a disgusting sore on Man’s condition, you know the type, such militant feminists are a disgusting leech on the proper way of life.” But he so enjoyed watching her being transformed, slowly, into a more docile, pliant, submissive, wretched, broken thing. Her spirit was slowly ebbing as each day she was helpless all over again. Dr. Hope did his best to play his part and keep her spirits up (so that the slow weight of reality crushed down upon her that much slower and heavier.)
Today Fipps planned on introducing a new degradation to his patient’s regimen. He already had her taking pills, large water pills, placebos which did nothing for her but were awkward and uncomfortable to swallow, on a daily basis, as well as upping the amount of waste that she consumed regularly, it was having an affect.
The girl’s body was slowly bloating, softening, and receiving more malnutrition. Meanwhile it was remaining sedentary and receiving special sponge baths which, to all appearances seemed proper, but were in fact dermatologically bad, filled with translucent oils and other pore cloggers which would degrade the complexion and quality of her skin so that she would develop acne, remain smeared with grease and oil as she rested, and start to itch throughout the day.
Today though Fipps was brining in the next stage of her treatment, Dr. Hope spoke to the girl: “In order to better combat the insidious cancer, which has remained benign but threatens to spread if we don’t start chemotherapy soon,” Valerie was told in response to her whiny “More, why, oh I can’t take anymore!” She quickly calmed as the Doctor explained the seriousness of her condition and her sobriety took hold as he laid out the torrid details.
“You will lose most of your hair,” he explained. Valerie swallowed, her luscious mane was so important to her, part of her identity, a strong part of her femininity, and a source of pride, self-esteem and confidence, and, to a large part, a source of power for her as a woman. She really didn’t want to start chemo, and she said so to Dr. Hope.
“It’s your choice of course, but we think we have a really good chance of knocking this thing out and getting you back to your life if we do it. Take your time though, this thing could go back into remission at any time and you’re doing great so far!” He beamed a smile at her and then left her to her torment, knowing full well that now that she had been promised an ‘easy’ solution to her condition she would eventually take it.
Before leaving he checked her body for signs of sores and rotated her a little to help reduce the likelihood of sores developing. He took the oily ‘cleaning’ agent that was Valerie’s personal skin conditioner (the one with the greasy substances to help degrade her complexion) and shook some itching agent into it as well. “Here we go, some nice soothing lotion,” he said as he did so. The itching agent said “Soothing relief” on it in big, bold letters. Lifting her robe up to expose her thighs and vagina the Doctor began rubbing the evil lotion onto Valerie’s ever increasingly acne-filled and blotchy skin. Valerie had initially cringed a little when he had examined her private parts but she had gotten over it, somewhat, because “After all I am a Doctor,” Hope had said, and then laughed a bit at her uncomfortableness, like it was silly for her to feel that way.
Valerie, for her part, had, over time, started bucking into Hope’s hand when it was down there, despite his stern looks in response, which would cause her to blush, she couldn’t help it though, and it hurt so much for her to move her arms that masturbation was simply impossible. “I’m really not supposed to, but, it’s natural for someone in your position to need relief, and, I could perform a clinical therapy for you…” Hope trailed off, watching the girl’s reaction.
Valerie for her part perked up at the mention of the possibility of sexual relief, normally she would have abhorred the idea of sexual contact with a man while helpless and unable to dominate and emasculate him, but she had been lying in bed for several weeks now and she was extremely horny. She nodded vigorously at his suggestion.
“Well alright then,” Dr. Hope said worming his way between the young woman’s thighs. He had generously coated his latex-glove protected with the greasy ‘lotion’ and had made sure to add some of the ‘relief lotion’ (the itching agent.) Nudging the girl’s legs into the stirrups on the table (that Valerie had thought were kind of a weird thing to have on a hospital bed but had never really questioned too much, since, after all, she wasn’t a medical expert) Dr. Hope leaned down to consult the ‘afflicted area.’ Careful to hide his grin behind the tent made by the girl’s spread thighs and her stretched robe he savored the fact that it was just him and this helpless twat all alone. With the girl’s robe hiked up high between her spread legs it was as though he were partitioned off from her face and mind. Taking particular delight in his task, the good ‘Doctor’ dug in:
At first Valerie was quite excited by the stimulation, Dr. Hope rubbed her clit and massaged her labia, helping to increase her sexual appetite and get her body worked up. After a few minutes though the effect of the itching agent started to kick in, things didn’t feel as pleasant, and a few minutes later things were starting to become alarming. What had started out as a gentle and delicate plumbing of her charms had become an ordeal, it felt as though her loins were on fire, she felt an incredible itching in her pussy, inside of her pussy, all over her mons, and pulsing through her clit. She wished she could reach down and scratch it but it was so painful to move her arms she was paralyzed to do anything about it.
Dr. Hope, sensing the girl’s anxiety, in fact anticipating it, triggered his beeper to go off, simulating a hospital emergency, and, with the girl’s legs still up leaving her vagina angry and red, he rushed out of the room after taking his gloves off quickly and tossing them into the medical waste bin. “If you need anything I should be back as soon as I can,” he said and then went out the door. After leaving he went right next door into the observation room to watch the fun with Mr. Fipps.
Valerie was stewing, it was horrible, she had gotten so worked up and then was unable to climax, she couldn’t move her arms or legs, she was exposed, oh so exposed, and her twat felt so damn itchy! She couldn’t stand it, it was unbearable, beads of sweat broke out on her brow and she panted in exasperation, unable to do much else to try to let off some of the heat she felt from the ‘soothing lotion’ Dr. Hope had applied. “She’s coming along wonderfully,” Fipps remarked while enjoying the show. “What are her latest results?” Dr. Hope had been running tests, ostensibly to help him treat Valerie’s ‘cancer’ but in actuality to keep a progress report for Mr. Fipps.
“Umm, as of yesterday her vitals are showing good progress. Her bust is up to a comfortable E cup, we can’t do too much more up there and not draw attention, but we should be able to pursue more gradual increases, so long as they are done over time she might not notice the growth in relation to itself, if we added some dissasociatives to her food it would help the transition.”
“No, I want her alert and aware of her torment, but I also want her complicit in it, we can’t have her learning that we are not looking out for her best interests. I also want her to remain optimistic about her outcome. What about her other vitals? How is the skin coming along?”
“She’s growing, slowly, her hips are wider, her waist has ballooned out and her skin is a lot more fatty now, she’s slowly losing muscle but we’re getting there, soon she will be a very flabby, pudgy girl, so long as we keep her on this diet and make sure that she keep eating as much fat and being rubbed in oil we should be able to achieve full body degradation in about five more weeks.”
“Good, good,” Fipps glowed in response, stroking his erect member, delighted at the progress of his star pupil. “I am glad the lessons are going so well. It is time to return and calm her, make sure to explain the problem as a natural side effect of the medicine she is taking, and, while uncommon, is not surprising. Make sure to convince her that the chemo therapy is the way to go if she wants to be able to get out of here quickly, but don’t push it as the only option, make sure that she understands that it will only be her own weakness, and impatience, that force her to go this route.” Fipps stroked his burgeoning manhood faster in response to the repeated button pushes the girl was making, desperate to summon Hope back in to help her with the burning in her pussy. Deftly moving the girl’s next meal in front of him he splashed his ‘protein supplement’ all into the dessert shake Valerie was given at the end of a shift. “Oh, and slow down her day cycle, I want to draw this out.”
Hope nodded before returning. Fipps controlled the girl’s sense of time. There was no clock in the room so the only real sense of time that Valerie had was based on the frequency of Dr. Hope’s checkups. He usually responded to her button presses, after waiting an appropriate amount of time, but left her alone and without company or aid at ‘night’ when he went home. During the ‘night’ part of Valerie’s day the light would be turned off and she would be left to think in quiet and stew in her own torment and helplessness. Often, since the day and night cycle lengths were variable, the girl would lie awake thinking it was nighttime when it fact it was the middle of the day. Unable to sleep she would suffer in solitude, monitored by the voyeuristic Fipps through the comfortable and plush affords of the viewing room.
Returning to Valerie, her legs still spread wide Dr. Hope apologized profusely for having to run off like that and immediately returned Valerie’s legs to their normal prone position and then massaged them slightly to get the blood flowing. “Are you alright?” he asked, knowing full well she was not. Valerie’s face was a mask of pain and hurt, the itching was so intense that she wanted to just rub her cunt up against a tree until the bark rubbed off.
“Doctor it itches, it itches so bad!” she exclaimed, and then winced as having to talk made her face hurt (from the serum that punished her muscles for moving.)
“Oh my,” Hope said leaning down to inspect the itching skin, its complexion blotchy, greasy, and red from the itching. “It seems that you have developed a rash after I touched you, so we won’t be able to do any more of that. It’s probably a side affect of the medicine you are on. If you agree to the Chemo we should be able to reduce it so that the itching might recede, but I am afraid that all I can do is put some lotion on it to help ease the sensation, in your condition though, I am not sure if it will do much good.” Picking up the bottle of itching agent again, the one bearing the words ‘Relief Lotion’ in big, friendly letters, he began dribbling amounts of it on her pussy, quickly donning some gloves and then preparing to smear it over, around, and inside of her cunt.
“Oh Doctor,” Valerie cried out like a little girl, close to tears. After a few more moments it became so bad that she was beyond herself. Almost lifting her hands up to pound them down in temper tantrum fashion but stopping due to the pain of the movement she opened her mouth and let out an inhuman mewl, the roaring cry sounding almost exactly like a toddler yelling out after a spanking.
“Now now, this is all temporary, things are going very well, the test results today looked very good, and I am sure that in a few months you will be on your way to a speedy recovery. If you have trouble with the condition though we could put you onto Chemo, it would greatly reduce your recovery time.” Dr. Hope said this all with a straight face, the perfect mask of sobriety.
Valerie stopped caterwauling for a moment, although the itching was driving her crazy with sensation. In between gasps for air and exclamations of breath whenever the Doctor stroked in particularly far in his application of the ‘Relief Lotion’ Valerie breathed out her consent to it “Give me,” she cried out, spitting the words in between yells and sharp intakes of breath. “Now!” she roared.
Mr. Fipps smiled in victory at Valerie’s capitulation, preparing the document he was to have Hope give to her to sign. It was a valid legal document granting the bearer the right to subject the signer to experimental and potentially harmful treatment “That’s just because the radiation we use does have side effects, like your hair,” Hope would explain, glossing over the salient points in the agreement. One of the other small agreements in the document granted the bearer the right to make medical decisions for the signer, “And some other things to help us to provide you with the best in aftercare that we can” Hope might continue.
Giving this document to her later, her mind almost fully focused on the intense itching in her groin, which Hope was starting to scratch a little for her (granting her temporary relief) she hesitated with the pen, not sure if she really wanted to go through with it and slightly wary of some of the language. When she stopped to ponder some of the parts of the document Dr. Hope stopped his relief efforts (the scratching was actually providing Valerie with some temporary relief) to offer some friendly comments on the document, and to help explain (verbosely and using round-about words) in order to take him from his task. This provided Valerie incentive to sign, as it would allow Hope to go back to his relief efforts of scratching instead of standing up lecturing. Signing it quickly Valerie handed it to him, whereupon his beeper almost immediately went off and he rushed out, signed document in tow, leaving Valerie to the returned intensity of the now sore and itchy sensations in her loins.
Studying her discomfort Fipps smiled and made plans to increase it further, picturing the new Valerie in his mind: her head bald and glistening, begging the Doctor to give her the experimental drugs that could end her torment. Immensely satisfied with the success of his project thus far Fipps quickly grabbed one of the containers of pudding that Valerie would be spoon fed later and without too much effort quickly topped it off.
Smiling to himself in his post-orgasmic haze Fipps made a mental note to thank Alex for getting him such a fiery feminist to play with.
Chapter 4, Chemo
“Radiation is a fickle thing,” Hope explained to young Ms. Withrop, “We need to be very careful.” He positioned a device over the girl which looked very scary, like it was going to shoot something down on her. Mr. Fipps wasn’t exactly about to actually go through the trouble of actually trying to fascimilate real chemotherapy, but he was extremely confident that the young girl had no idea what actually went into real chemo treatment. Streuth had checked the girl’s history and she had no relatives who had suffered from cancer that she might have visited while a child, and no relatives who were doctors or medical professionals, she was clueless.
Anxious as the device was lowered closer to her helpless form (it was actually a modified lamp that dentist’s use in their office, with a craning neck and adjustable tilt) she fretted over the large warning symbol on it which read ‘Danger of Exposure, Do not operate without safety equipment, could cause hair loss, muscle paralysis, decreased mobility and/or complete nervous system shutdown’ Her eyes went wide in terror after reading this warning (put there for her viewing pleasure, it was a harmless machine, which would simply shine a tanning light on her.)
Dr. Hope put some blackout goggles over her eyes and then threw the switch which turned the device on. He had made a big ado about putting on layers and layers of ‘safety’ equipment, large, heavy leaden clothing, before subjecting Valerie to ‘the Chemo.’ “Now you might feel a little sleepy Valerie,” he shouted to her above the loud hum (a completely gratuitous added stress to Valierie’s ordeal) “That’s normal, the rays are very draining, you might feel almost like they are sapping your energy, but you need to fight it if you are going to get better, remember, this is for your own good.” In fact Valerie had been given a sedative into her IV, so that once she was knocked out they could make subtle changes to her body to simulate the effects of her ‘Chemo.’
Valerie struggled to stay awake, convinced that, if she fell asleep, the loud hum of the terrible machine would surely kill her. She could hear it, and feel the lights on her, it felt like they were sucking her life away, like it was being drained from her. Trembling in fear, horrified at falling asleep under its effects, she stumbled through fits of unconsciousness before bolting awake and then finally succumbing to the inevitable and passing out.
Monitoring her heart rate Dr. Hope could see that Valerie was still extremely scared even in her sleep, the sedative was reduced so that she would be able to maintain a sort of semi-wakefulness and experience the timeless procedure of being under the horrible rays. Meanwhile, as she was enduring this awful draining ordeal, Dr. Hope prepped her head for ‘hair loss,’ taking out an electric shaver and some depilation cream.
After having prepared the materials he waited a moment while Mr. Fipps came slowly into the room. Fipps surveyed the passed out beauty, her form degraded and sloppy, her once proud body now a mess of weakened muscles, bulging fat cells, and badly maintained skin. Smiling at the fallen girl he slid up next to Hope and savored the next step, nodding his assent as the ‘Doctor’ carefully shaved the girl’s head, catching the falling hair in a bag to cover up the evidence of the deed, and then presented the mockery of a hair-do to Fipps for inspection. “Good, good,” Fipps breathed, “Now, the cream.” Hope nodded and then smeared a healthy amount of the depilation cream over the girl’s roots. In her sleep she slowly felt the burning sensation in her scalp and her mind cried out, she knew that the Chemo was taking her hair!
Dr. Spencer’s special formula wasn’t quite strong enough to kill the roots but it was damned close, and the dead short hairs fell out and were swept into Hope’s waste bag, leaving the girl with a perfectly smooth, completely featureless scalp, the perfect compliment to her defeated body.
Fipps nodded his satisfaction and then wheeled around the girl’s trembling form, even in sleep she was fitful and twitching, apparently in the throes of the machine’s baleful rays even in her sleep. Smiling at this up-close view of his prize Fipps made a check mark on the girl’s medical chart, located at the foot of her bed, which made it plain what his goals were for the girl’s body. If she ever saw the chart the charade would be up, but it delighted Fipps to know that she would never be in a position to look at it since it was at the foot of her bed.
Giving her bloated ass a pinch as though feeling a slab of meat, Fipps inspected the quality of the girl flesh before making some notes in her chart, indicating to Dr. Hope what changes he wanted made to the texture and consistency. Exiting the room Fipps re-entered the viewing room to enjoy the sights and sounds of the semi-conscious girl in the next room.
At his disposal was the rate of entry for the sedative, with a flick of his finger he could cause the girl to fall more asleep or less. He had Hope wander around the room as though monitoring things and fret over dials and read-outs, espousing worry and concern as though something had gone horribly wrong. Fipps reasoned that so long as she was never too awake she would have no way of gauging the duration of the treatment, which, she had been told, would last about an hour, but Fipps figured could last for as long as he liked.
When Hope needed a break Fipps would push the girl a little further down into sleep, still fitful and unrested, still suffering under the perceived effects of the draining rays, her mind a battlefield struggling to maintain strength but under the assault of the terrifying buzz of the machine and its harsh lights.
It was not until Fipps was ready to go to sleep for the night himself that he finally let the girl up, the room still reflecting mid-day indications that would indicate to Valerie that only an hour had passed, when, in actuality, she had spent roughly eight hours in torment.
Dr. Hope came in to feed her, giving her extra portions this time (as Fipps had cum multiple times over the cock-throbbing eight hour period) and made sure to catch the pudding that dribbled out of Valerie’s mouth so that he could put it back in again. Spooning another mouthful up out of the vat Dr. Hope made sure to wear gloves so that he did not touch the wretched stuff, he knew what went into it and it was not suitable for touching much less eating. He likened it in his mind to the stuff that accumulates in a grease trap in a restaurant, the stuff sits there all day, maybe for weeks, never emptied, congealing and accumulating bits and pieces of left-over waste and attracting flies, the sort of stuff that you dump into a big bin out back that needs special pick-up and smells horrible. It was disgusting to Hope to have to handle the stuff and he occasionally would actual curl his nose up as he fed it into Valerie’s mouth.
He had explained to Valerie that it was simply a nervous twitch, and she had ignored it. Today however he practically convulsed in disgust as he noticed something in the pudding, difficult to notice at first since the pudding was of a white, creamy color and texture, but looking closely at it before putting it into Valerie’s open and waiting mouth he could swear that he saw small maggots, white and still writhing around, in the mush. Steeling himself to maintain his composure, starting to sweat a little at having to stay calm and focused on his task it was all Hope could do to stop from vomiting all over his charge as he diligently spooned another helping into her hungry mouth.
Having no other real source of pleasure in her life Valerie had taken a special liking to her meals, the sweet syrup added to it made it so very tasty (not to mention addictive) and she had become quite the glutton. She considered herself a connoisseur of the pasty pudding, noting its distinctive smells and textures, as one would a rich wine. She usually closed her eyes while being fed, and held her mouth open for the good Doctor, who poured it in to the small target with practiced precision (holding her mouth wide caused her pain.)
She would savor it as it hit her tongue, the sweet taste sometimes slightly salty or having a slight tangy feel to it, sometimes it would taste almost bitter and she thought of those helpings as a more ‘refined, aged’ sort, like a sharp cheese. Fipps smiled as she swallowed it all, eager to see if she would eat his newest creation, smiling as he thought of just how many grubs and maggots the girl was eating, they were high in nutrition though. He kept experimenting with new things, seeing just how far he could push the limits of ‘food’ without giving away the contents to the young woman who ate it.
Recently Fipps had started Hope using a more concealing spoon, it scooped the food up like normal but was covered on top, like a sideways fluted glass scooping down and then holding its contents (which were fairly sticky) until delivery into the girl’s mouth when Hope would push the plunger down which would spurt the contents into the mouth hole. The whole affair was now sort of like injecting the food into her mouth. Hope would scoop it up from the pudding vat, wrinkle his nose at its contents, sometimes want to vomit at what he saw to be in the vat, but when it came up to the girl’s face it was well hidden by the covering plastic and she had no idea of the sights Hope saw in the large vat. She often had her eyes closed anyway, so that she could concentrate on the sweet pleasure from the syrup that copiously coated every facet of her food.
Then Hope would spurt it into her mouth by deftly pushing the plunger down and withdraw from her mouth, shoveling another spoonful, or as he thought of it ‘spoogeful’ before plopping it into the girl’s face. He rather relished the point of deposit, often imagining his own hard cock at the entrance to her mouth, vomiting its load down into her swallowing mouth. When he got too preoccupied with this fantasy he would excuse himself to the restroom taking the feeding tool with him and then return more relaxed and with a smile on his face to plunge it back down with its new addition into the vat of goo before resuming his feeding of the girl with new gusto.
Sometimes, as right now, Valerie would tell him to stop, she was too full, but the words didn’t always come out easily, her stuffed face made mushy sounds, it hurt to move her mouth too much, it hurt to talk, and her vocal cords were weak from disuse. Not to mention that her throat usually had a sticky coating to it from the food as it clung to whatever it touched as it went down into her body, in effect clogging her chest and throat and making her over time more and more stuffy and mucusy. She sounded like a slug when she tried to talk, full of slimy throaty sounds and slow and sluggish in her speech. When Hope noticed that she was trying to indicate that she wanted him to stop he would usually speed up his feeding and become more violent in his thrusts, relishing the act of pushing the spoon between her now closed lips before ejecting the payload into her mouth. The girl was so accustomed to swallowing the sticky sweet substance that she usually stopped making noises to take it down and if Hope was fast enough he could keep her swallowing as he finished off the vat before she was able to effectively get out a ‘stop’ or ‘enough’ to which he would respectfully listen and obey.
His actions might seem suspect if not for his perfect bedside demeanor and impeccable medical credentials which lined the walls. In fact, while he was forcing the food down her throat he had the look a perfect gentleman, a face that said ‘I care’ that showed concern for her well being, and soulful eyes that seemed to just scream sympathy for Valerie’s condition. She felt that she was slowly falling in love with her caretaker. She had started to fantasize about making love to him, even though she had never had such thoughts about a man, but he seemed so caring, so gentle, it was almost like she could open up to him and tell him all of her thoughts and feelings, her fears and her dreams. She was hesitant to do so (and talking hurt a lot) but one of these days she wanted to grab his hand, she pictured it in her mind, look him right in the eyes, and tell him that she needed him. It just seemed so right, to tell him that she needed him, that she loved him, that she ached for him (her pussy lusted all of the time now, frustrated and needing relief) and that she wanted to be his woman. The fact of the matter is that she had always been the man in the relationship, and this more submissive side of her had only started to surface as she had spent more time lying helpless on the bed.
Fipps watched the girl’s struggle, her emotions plain on her face, she didn’t have a moment when he wasn’t watching, so even if she hid her feelings or desires, her lust, when Hope was close-up next to her, Fipps saw it when Hope’s back was turned. If he needed any more of a confirmation it was the low murmuring, almost moaning, that Valerie made when Hope was ‘gone for the night’ (next door watching her as well while Valerie waited lonely in the dark, her loins her constant frustrated companion.) “Doctor, oh Doctor,” she would moan throatily, sometimes coughing up a bit of goo that had been coating her throat, diligently licking it and swallowing it back down before continuing to fantasize about the man who administered Fipps’ brand of medicine to her, a man who regarded her coldly and now looked at her with a steely gaze, relishing her condition and eager to get on to Fipps’ next part of his plan.
Chapter 5, Physical
therapy
Hope walked in to Valerie’s room, she was still sleeping, and prepared her breakfast, a big vat of goop from Fipps’ special collection. This one she was guaranteed to find revolting, Fipps had put too many ingredients in and not even the sweet syrup could disguise its true nature.
Still, the men were counting on Valerie’s trust and her new desires to please Hope for her to eat what she was given without making a fuss. He woke her up gently, stroking her head and cooing at her, when she opened her eyes and looked up Hope smiled down at her and wishes her a good morning. Then he sidled up next to her and prepared a spoonful of her breakfast. On cue Valerie opened her mouth, even though she wasn’t very hungry and accepted his load. She grimaced at the spoonful, but swallowed it anyway. She looked up at Hope with a look in her eyes that said something was wrong. He pretended not to notice and gave her another bite, she balked a little at this one, it tasted funny, too sour, like it wasn’t her normal food. In fact this one contained so many disgusting additives that under normal circumstances (if it were uncoated and she was fully able to look at it) she would have clamped her mouth shut and struggled to resist. If he had put it in her mouth she would have spit it out or gagged on it, if it had gone down her throat she would have tried to vomit. As it was Hope just cooed at her and stroked her head, calming her and she, wanting his approval despite the nasty taste, swallowed it, grimacing again as she did. They continued in this way with Valerie reluctantly accepting what he gave her, hesitating with it in her mouth, really starting to feel grossed out by the sensations in her mouth, “Oh my god, is it wiggling,” but then swallowing when she looked up into those caring, loving eyes looking back down on her. She knew that her Doctor knew best, after all, he was going through so much trouble to take care of her, she was lucky to have such a wonderful man to take care of her. It would never had sat right before for her to think of a man taking care of her as natural, she would have been repulsed by the idea, but in her current state of dependency she was glad to have such a caring man taking care of her. She had started entertaining ideas of getting to know him better once she had recovered from her sickness.
Hope spooned another bit of the dreadful stuff into her mouth, and when she balked he lightly tapped her on the lips with the spoon, mildly chastising her, like a disobedient child, and, feeling mildly bad at having disobeyed, she swallowed and tried to make it up to him by dutifully swallowing the next three bites quickly. Her stomach was starting to really feel sick now, though, and she didn’t think she could eat another bite, she wanted to tell Hope that she wasn’t feeling well but every time she opened her mouth he put some more in and when she swallowed it quickly to get some words out he responded by quickly putting another bite into her mouth.
He glanced down at his pager and then made a sign with his hand that he would be right back as he rushed out the door. Valerie’s tummy was rumbling and she was starting to feel the need to relieve herself one way or another. She was scared that if she threw-up she might really upset Dr. Hope, who would have to clean it up. Worse she was scared that maybe she would choke on it, and she was already starting to gag with the fear and the revulsion of her roiling stomach. She was really feeling queasy and could taste bile in her throat, oddly enough it didn’t taste too different from what the food going down had tasted like.
Too concerned with the pressure in her abdomen to worry about the taste too much her mind raced furiously to figure out what she could do, she reached her hand over to jab the call button, anxious for help, ignoring the pain it caused her hand to push the button repeatedly.
Next door Fipps and Hope watched the whole ordeal and remarked on her condition, eagerly waiting the finale. Fipps pointed out a particular part of her body that he found amusing during these proceedings, and exclaimed at the movement left in arm when she was able to push the button a few times before stopping. Apparently she still had some muscle strength left.
Hope rushed back in to the room a few moments before he felt Valerie couldn’t hold herself much longer, she had clamped her mouth shut and was repeatedly swallowing the bile and vomit which threatened to come up but she was also now clenching her buttocks, trying to keep the mess from coming out of her ass as well.
Feigning dread concern for her predicament Hope rushed over to prepare a bucket for her, strapping a piece of tape over her mouth “To help you keep it in,” he said as he did so, Valerie nodded, she had had her fears confirmed that it was medically necessary for her not to throw-up (although rationally this didn’t make sense, Valerie wasn’t in a very calm state of mind at the moment and she was looking to her Doctor for guidance.)
Opening up a flap under her rear, basically swinging a portion of the bed down from under her, a specially prepared part of the bed, he then swung a translucent funnel up to cover her ass and sphincter so that she was now lying on a sort of makeshift toilet, albeit still on the bed and with the Doctor watching her squirm.
Surprised that he had not left the room as he normally did, and embarrassed to go in front of him Valerie tried to hold the squishy mess in her bum for as long as possible. She wanted to ask him to leave but her mouth was impotent with the tape over it. Shooting worry at him with her eyes, blushing as she struggled with her bowels Valerie eventually couldn’t hold it anymore.
She let go and opened up to relief as her wetness drained out of her loins and flowed through the large funnel. All of her solid and liquid waste drained out through the translucent funnel while Hope and Fipps watched the embarrassed young girl mess herself.
Valerie swallowed what was in her throat again and again and eventually it went down to her now empty stomach where she could let it out later. Dr. Hope smiled at her and told her she had done a good job and while she was still horrified to have gone in front of him she didn’t feel so bad now that the pressure was gone. She was glad that he was telling her she had been a good girl though, she didn’t want him to think badly of her for having just gone toilet in front of him. “What kind of man would entertain notions of being with a girl he has seen losing control of her bowels in front of him?” She asked herself, her answer was ‘surely no man.’ She felt so ashamed of what she had done and her shame was only compounded when Dr. Hope lifted up the vat that had caught her waste and hefted it onto the table next to the bed. The bucket was clear and both of them could clearly see what had come out of her ass moments earlier. Hope explained to her that she had been ‘such a girl’ to fill it up ‘this much!’ he said, cooing at her like she was a child. Happy to not have to feel bad about having done a mess she clung onto his words of comfort, not picking up on the subtle condescension in them. Hope replaced the bucket with a fresh one underneath and, to Valerie’s horror, left her in that position.
In the past he had always left the room before she had to go, had not remarked on it, had emptied the waste, cleaned her up without comment and treated her as though she had not done it. Now though, he explained to her, she would be best off staying in this position, with her ass ever-ready to let go with a prepped funnel and bucket under her. “This will give us better data on how your body is being affected by the sickness.” Before the waste had always been disposed of, but from now on, with the start of Chemo, Dr. Hope explained “We will need to hold onto it for analysis. This nausea is a common side effect of the radiation, you may feel as though the food tastes more unpleasant, that is also a side effect of the radiation, additionally you will have trouble holding your food so it will be important for you to always be ready to expel.” Hope kept his speech clinical and unjudging, wanting his medical talk to sound as professional as possible.
Valerie listened and took this all in, her pride taken down a notch as she realized that she was now going to be open and exposed all of the time now, and that, and this was really humiliating, a team of analysts would be going through her waste to determine its weight, density, color, and consistency in order to better gauge the effectiveness of the treatment. “We can learn a whole lot from your discharge,” Hope said to her, “In the same way that when a veterinarian will take samples of a dog’s waste to help diagnose his illness we can do that for you by measuring your waste and seeing what effects the treatment are having.” He did his best to keep a straight face as he compared her to a bitch in this manner. Valerie for her part did momentarily take offense but the soothing, professional manner of the Doctor, and the act of listening to more information pushed her mind past that slight (which Fipps relished as it was delivered) to listen to what he had to say next.
“Today’s sample is sort of the ‘control’ the next data points that are collected,” and here it was painfully obvious to Valerie that he was comparing her crap to data, and her taking a shit in front of him as a ‘data collection’, “will help us to better monitor your care. This is an important part of your wellness treatment and I hope you cooperate by informing me whenever you are about to excrete by pushing this green button over here,” he indicated a new button that had been added which pictured a small icon of a camcorder. “When you push this it will beep my pager so that I can come and monitor the process to make sure that everything is going smoothly,” he said, “Additionally it will trigger a recording camera so that we can make sure that no complications are arising.” He smiled and said that yes, they did have a team of reviewers who watched the footage to ensure that no mishaps arose, but that the film was destroyed after 24 hours.
Slightly comforted Valerie breathed and rested, getting as calm as she could before the next session of Chemo, which, Dr. Hope informed her, would start in another half an hour and was scheduled to last an hour, “Just like last time,” he said, and smiled down at her before leaving to check on other patients.
--
Additionally, and unbeknownst to Valerie, when she pressed the green button a small jolt of pleasure was shot to her brain from a small addition Dr. Spencer had made the last time she had been under for Chemo. This implant could send her signals of pain or pleasure depending, and as of right now Fipps had simply had the red button wired to the pain center, which is why she had started to call for Hope less and less as the time had gone by (the pain from the implant was subtle and meant to condition over time, it was not too noticeable but it was perfectly timed to occur one half second after a button press by the subject.)
With this new button though, she had been given a way to give herself pleasure, all she had to do before she could push the green button (and experience the brief, and subtle brush of pleasure, so subtle that she didn’t even consciously make the connection but so rich and dreamy that she felt an inner satisfaction from it) was let herself be recorded when she went to the bathroom.
Initially she had thought that she would just push the button occasionally, as a way of showing her Doctor that she was following instructions, but she figured that she could just do it every so often and no one would notice if she went to the bathroom by herself as well, after all, they weren’t watching her all the time, right? Right, a patient is treated with respect and given privacy. She smiled to herself, she knew her rights, she knew that they could only monitor her if she submitted to it, like when she pressed the green button. Well, she wasn’t going to be doing too much of that, she reasoned, even if Dr. Hope said it was good for her, there was no way she was going to be let her most private functions be put on display, she harrumphed to herself, she had made up her mind about that.
--
Valerie cringed as she thought about disobeying the man she
had grown so attached to, the man who she desperately needed to be fucked by. Oh god how she needed him, she thought, he’s
so strong and able (this in contrast to her helplessness.) She closed her eyes and imagined him fucking
her, not caring that she was a complete mess now, or the fact that she spewed
noxious stuff from her ass for the view of strangers, he understood, she knew,
he was her Doctor, he didn’t judge her, he loved her (she thought to herself)
he had to because he took such good care of her.
She shook herself from her pleasant daydream because she was feeling something again, and, feeling ashamed, not wanting to, but knowing that she had to, in order to please the Doctor, she pushed the green button and (Ooh) was rewarded by a whirring sound beneath her like a photographic lens opening up before she grunted and started to do her business.
Epilogue, Ongoing
Treatment
Several weeks later Valerie was eager to eat her food (which now tasted quite horrible) because, after she did she knew that she would be able to go to the bathroom, which meant that before she did she would be able to push the green button! (She had noticed at first that the green button was remarkably closer and easier to reach than the red button, but had stopped caring once she had come to love pressing it so much.)
In fact, Dr. Hope had had to chastise her on several occasions for pressing the button for ‘false alarms’ when she did not need to go. “That wastes hospital resources, Valerie, its expensive, it causes wasted tape, and people review empty footage.”
Fipps enjoyed watching this ‘empty footage,’ her pert and prim asshole clenching and trying to shit, with nothing coming out (Valerie now so thoroughly conditioned that, even when she did not have to go, or only had a tiny bit of waste to make, she would press the green button and then grunt and strain and try to go.)
“What’s more,” Dr. Hope said, and he looked at Valerie with pain in his eyes, as though she were personally hurting him, “It hurts me, Valerie, it hurts me, to see that light go off on my pager, rush all the way down here, to see that I have come down here for nothing.” Valerie had equated early on that Dr. Hope would only come to see her after she had pushed the green button, and she was so happy to see him visit, but that he would only come down when it was ‘medically necessary’ he said. So she tried, without success, to make potty after each time she pushed the button, since it meant coos and “Good girl,” from the Doctor.
In fact, he had explained, he was so busy now, and Valerie realized she was being selfish, after all, he had other patients to attend to and she had kept him to herself for such a long time (she never wanted to leave the hospital now though, she would lose whatever relationship she had with Dr. Hope if she was ever released) that it was only fair if he started seeing other patients.
That meant that Valerie had to work extra hard to eat as much as she could. She was now feeding herself, she could push a pedal with her foot and her feeding chute would lower so that she could take it into her mouth, it was oddly shaped, like a bulbous snake, but it was comfortable enough. The only real problem with it was that once she initiated it she had a hard time getting it to stop. It would worm its way into her mouth and then start pumping food into her (like a long penis constantly pulsing semen into her) and would not stop until it had run its programmed course. Of course the pedal by her foot was so sensitive that she almost had to strain to keep it away from the trigger (like trying to take your foot off the gas and the brake in a car and having to keep it up off of all the pedals for a long period of time.)
Thus, Valerie found that more and more it was simply easier to be constantly swallowing the snaking portions. Eating more meant more visits from Dr. Hope, and meant being able to push the green button more. It also meant that she had to eat and swallow the horrible tasting gruel all of the time (which Dr. Hope assured her was bland and tasteless) with her ever increasingly degrading taste buds. “Just a side effect of the Chemo, my dear, we must continue, you must perservere.”
Valerie accepted her life, the frequent and prolonged sessions of Chemo, the empty days and long frustrated nights punctuated by the visits she looked forward to so much and the jags of reward the green button gave her. In fact it had gotten to the point where she didn’t even think about it any more, the green button and the feeling in her bowels were like one in her mind, when she felt the need to go she pressed the green button and that told her mind that it was time to go now.
She had found that she could not make potty without pressing the button, it just was almost like she was ‘trained’ to now, but she didn’t care or think too hard about that, in fact she didn’t think too hard about anything, she just waited for her pleasant reward from the button and for the visits from her Doctor. She would look up when he came in, happy to see him, flashing him her most beguiling smile, wanting him to touch her like he did before, he would come in, barely look at her, mark down some notes on his clipboard after bending down to study the shit that had accumulated in the bin.
Then, depending on the volume accumulated he would press a button to have it emptied into a larger container marked in big letters ‘Valerie.’ This large blue rubber container was a constant companion of Valerie’s and it was into this container that her waste was emptied when the clear bin beneath her ass filled up. She had started talking to the blue container, since she had no other company, and had started to think of it as a real person, a friend. In return it stared at her from its place as a large blue rubber holding container and just said to her in large letter ‘Valerie.’
“That’s my name,” she said to it, “I’m full of shit!” She said, and then giggled at her wit. Next door, Fipps smiled as she made this quip. When the blue container filled more than ¾ of the way (which was every two weeks or so) Dr. Hope would actually turn to acknowledge Valerie’s presence and then say “Good girl, you’re full” before having the blue container taken away to be replaced with an empty, even larger one.
Valerie strived to fill it as quick as possible since her
days were frequently spend just lying on her back, dreaming of Dr. Hope in her
mind, eating as fast as she could, shitting as fast as she could, pushing the
green button, thinking long and hard about pushing the red button (“Call me if
you need anything, just press this red button”) which she occasionally, very
rarely did, and she was pushing it less and less as her brain got conditioned
to it, and waiting for the visits from Dr. Hope and those magical moments when
he would actually turn to her (although recently he just stared straight at the
blue container, focusing on the part of it where it said her name) and then say
those wonderful words she waited months to hear “Valerie, you’re full of shit!”
Valerie would giggle and then watch as her Doctor walked out the door, his eyes glued to his clipboard, his walk brisk, his demeanor professional… Oh how she loved that man.
---
by
Alex Streuth
Literary notes: This tale introduces readers to Mr. Fipps, and his aid and potential sponsoree
the inimical Mr. Hope (not his real name.)
Alex plays a minor role in the beginning but mostly this story plays to the
desires of Mr. Fipps and showcases his enormous
patient and resourcefulness in achieving a final product where the heroine is
complicit in her own degredation, while of course
continually deceived throughout the process.
Dr. Spencer plays a role in the sideline helping Mr. Fipps
to make some changes here and there, and this story also helps delineate the
complicated and arduous process of applying for membership to Cherish when you don’t
have a lot of money (Will Dr. Hope ever be invited in, only if Mr. Fipps gives him what he wants, and that may be only after
the young apprentice has served a long tenure as Fipps’
go-fer.)
--
My influences come from the
writings and imagination of Benson and Gord as well
as fiction from mygagorder.com, thundershrk, h.grant and sickman. I also appreciate the work of Bolo of
mygagorder.com for his wonderful restructuring images.
Keywords: Objectification degradation medical fetish embarrassment
blushing helpless sadistic forced feeding abduction voyeurism
--
Lastly, the author disclaims
that outside of the realm of fantasy none of these types of
behaviors and/or ideas are healthy much less conscionable. It is my intention to provide a well-written
adult story that allows the reader to indulge in their darker appetites. Feedback is welcomed, and you may write me at
Streuthanasia@gmail.com
--
Reader suggestions are always
welcomed and I am sure if you have a specific situation, person, item of
clothing, object, body part or interaction etc. that you wish inserted into the
busy schedules of the exacting Dr. Spencer and Mr. Streuth
please do not hesitate to contact me regarding it. I will see it I can fit your order into their
schedule, or bring it up at the next Cherish Board meeting. –AS
Please check out Alex Streuth's Stories
(www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Alex_Streuth/www/)
for my hosted collection.