Intersexed

"Do I have a choice?" He queried.

Anan's smile faltered before she quickly replaced it. "Well, of course, you do, silly. You're not a prisoner."

"And if I say 'no'?" Tank asked

"I'd imagine Genet will find you," Anan replied honestly. "She's looking for an excuse to confront you again."

"Maybe I should accommodate her," Tank said levelly. "Perhaps if I had smashed her smug face instead of letting her hit me, she wouldn't be a problem now." He sighed heavily, "So, you mean 'No, Tank. You have no choice,' right?"

Anan shrugged before saying, "Shall we?"

He didn't answer as he gestured for Anan to lead the way. "Tell me," Tank asked as he followed the researcher's sexily swaying ass down the corridor. "What chance am I and Ms Angelina of leaving this ship alive?"

Anan stopped and sighed. She looked around nervously and said, "Look, Mister Zaffra..."

"Tank."

"Tank," Anan continued. "I'm just a lowly researcher. Those kinds of questions are answered well above my pay grade. What I will say is that cooperating delays the day they decide to dissect you and try to discover what changes reintroducing our DNA and adding growth and strengthening hormones have made to your brain and body. Cause too much trouble, and Margraine will shoot you full of tranquilliser and probably start dissecting before you're dead."

She looked at Tank intently before she leaned closer, Anan's sizeable cock shifted and lengthened, and her nipples tented her jumpsuit. She let her fingers play across Tank's sizeable penis and down onto his clitoris and whispered, "Besides, you must at least wonder what it's like to use this magnificent thing," she gripped his swiftly hardening cock, "and how it feels to have a nice womanly cock sliding into your slippery cunt as her powerful pubis presses against your throbbing clit." Anan's hand rubbed his throbbing clitoris deliciously as her fingers pressed against his swiftly flooding pussy.

Tank froze initially, allowing Anan to stride away before he could react. A little further down the corridor, she opened a door that led into a functionally equipped gym. It didn't have the full set of equipment an upmarket suburban gym held, but it had everything necessary to run strength and endurance tests.

Anan indicated the treadmill first. "I want to test your oxygen uptake and how efficiently your body converts it into energy first. In the cubbyholes on the wall, you'll find some shorts and sneakers to run in. Put them on and wait by the mask beside the treadmill."

Tank quickly complied, and after Anan had finished entering his details into the computer, she came over and helped Tank put the mask on. Anan examined the fit and adjusted the straps until the mask sat securely sealed on Tank's face. She turned the treadmill on and told Tank to start walking.

When he began to, Anan explained, "There is a number of sensors fitted to this mask. They let me read how much air you're breathing in, its oxygen percentage, and how much oxygen is unused when you exhale. From there, I can calculate your max VO2 and estimate your fitness. It would have been best if we'd done these tests before we placed you in the regeneration tanks, but we'll still have an idea of your improvement because you've only just begun exercising." Anan continued, "I don't suppose you've had this test done before?"

"Yes," Tank replied. "But not since I was a teenager." He didn't expand that the test was done when he was at the Australian Institute of Sport training for the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics.

"Oh?" Anan asked. "Do you remember what the result was?"

"70 ml/kg/min," Tank replied without further commentary.

"That's elite," Anan observed, impressed despite herself.

Tank shrugged without answering and continued jogging.

Anan slowly increased the treadmill's speed until she maxed out Tank's ability to run aerobically. He'd been running at close to four minutes per mile for nearly three miles (two minutes thirty seconds per kilometre. Five kilometres) when he finally exceeded his body's ability to hold that speed without going into oxygen debt. That speed was above world record pace, if only Anan and Tank had realised it. The researcher hid her amazement as she measured Tank's increasing debt. It took almost another two miles (3.2 km) before Tank had to step off the treadmill when the lactic acid build-up in his legs meant they refused to operate.

Anan offered Tank an electrolyte drink after she'd helped him out of the mask. "Impressive," she stated as she hid the arousal that Tank's broad, hairy, muscular chest and well-defined abdominal muscles caused in her. With their extra X chromosome, masculine-presenting Providians' bodies were typically almost as hairless as the feminine-presenting ones. Tank's blatant masculinity had Anan's libido sparking and fizzing like a downed powerline.

"Get back on the treadmill," Anan suggested. "Walking will help alleviate the lactic acid quicker than standing still."

Sipping his drink, Tank complied. He watched Anan move around the gym, entering data into a touchpad and setting up the next test. He could hear her computer dinging as it received the transmitted data. Tank admired Anan's tight ass and high, firm breasts as she moved.

He didn't miss that her nipples tented her jumpsuit's front. Nor did her cock's bulge escape his eyes or thoughts. Tank was shocked when he realised he was stiffening himself when he recalled allowing Margraine's throbbing penis into his mouth. The remembered taste of her ejaculate caused his nipples, glans and clitoris to throb. He hoped that Anan would mistake the arousal flowing from his new vagina for sweat from his run.

"Do you do weights?" Anan asked.

"Yes," Tank acknowledged. "But I no longer do them to add muscle. I only use them to keep myself toned to look good on film."

"How much can you deadlift?" Anan inquired.

"At my peak?" Tank asked. "250 kg (550 lbs). Now, I usually put on 200 kg (440 lbs) and do five repetitions of ten lifts."

"Let's start at 220 kg (485 lbs)," Anan suggested. "If that's okay, we'll increase the weight until we find your maximum."

Setting himself correctly, Tank gripped the bars, raised his eyes, and lifted with his thighs. The weights came up so quickly and easily that he almost continued into a lift and snatch. Amazed by his apparent power, Tank lowered the bar back to the floor. He checked the weights, confirming they were what Anan had said.

"Too light?" Anan unnecessarily said. "Two-fifty?"

"Three hundred," Tank countered.

300 kg was fifty more than Tank had ever lifted before. However, he was confident in his ability to read what his body could do, and he thought 300 kg was easily within his capabilities. He helped Anan add the extra weight. They double-checked and agreed the bar now held 300 kg.

Tank retook his stance, focused his energy on his back, legs and arms, and straightened up. The three-hundred-kilogram weight bar lifted effortlessly off the floor. They added another fifty kilograms. It, too, came up off the floor with little effort. Four hundred quickly followed three-fifty and four-fifty after that. It was only at 500 kg (1100 lbs) that Tank struggled with the lift. He would have tried more, but the gym held no more weights to add.

"Enough for today," Ana decided. "Tomorrow, we'll repeat the VO2 test and try some bench presses."

Anan was bent over her keyboard, waving her taut, shapely ass back and forth as she entered the data and her notes into the computer. Tank's libido was sparking off the charts, and he could no longer contain it. Stepping up against the gorgeous researcher's bottom, Tank ground his enormous throbbing cock in Anan's ass crack and reached around her body to cup her high, firm, apple-sized breasts. Anan didn't complain or resist. Instead, she moaned softly and pushed her tight buns back at Tank's probing penis.

Tank's fingers found Anan's jumpsuit zipper. He pulled it partially down and waited for Anan's reaction. Anan lifted her upper body and arched her back. Her hand reached back and held Tank's head. Tank lowered the zipper as far as it would go and peeled the jumpsuit off Anan's shoulders. Anan wriggled her hips, dropping the suit to her ankles. She stepped out of them. Naked, she pressed her gorgeous ass back at Tank's rock-hard tool.

Moaning with unrequited need, Tank bent and moved his hips away from Anan's bottom. He quickly pulled his pants down and thrust his hips forward, hoping to spear into Anan's heated wetness. He momentarily felt Anna's quivering entrance against his massive, purple-headed cock before she spun away.

"We're under strict orders not to allow you to fuck us, Tank," Anan regretfully informed him. "I can fuck or blow you, if you'd like?"

"Blow first," Tank pleaded. "Maybe the other later."

Anan asked archly, "What about me?" as she pressed her body against Tank's. "Don't I deserve some release, too?"

Tank was significantly taller than the beautiful researcher, so he felt Anan's throbbingly stiff cock push against his hefty balls as she pressed herself against him. Then, she moved back and bent her knees, and as she straightened, Anan's cock slid up between Tank's parted thighs and under his tight ball sack. He felt its tip lightly touching his pussy's entrance. Anan almost purred as she lifted onto her toes, pushing her cock's tip slightly into Tank's virgin cunt. Then, Anan's delicate hands cupped Tank's powerful pecs, and her thumbs strummed lightly over his overly sensitive nipples.

Anan dropped and lifted onto her toes again, and her cock's tip entered a little deeper into Tank. Then, Anan bent her head and nipped Tank's nipple. The illicit eroticism and naughtiness of being fucked by a beautiful woman with a cock overcame Tank's social conditioning, and he dropped to his knees. Taking Anan's erotically throbbing member in his hand, Tank fed it into his suddenly willing mouth.

"Hmm," Anan moaned. "That's good. But I want to fuck you, so lie face down on the desk."

Tank's conscious, conservative mind wanted to object. It demanded that if there was any fucking to be done, then he'd be doing it. Unfortunately, the horny little slut that lurks in virtually every man's subconscious mind screamed, "Do it! You know you want to!" He stood, moved closer to the desk and bent over.

"Back away from the desk, or you'll be banging your cock against it," Anan advised. "Spread your legs wider and bend your knees."

Anan slapped his ass, much as Tank had done to numerous women before. He almost laughed at himself for the juxtaposition of his typical position, but before he could, Anan lined her thick 7-inch cock with his dripping pussy and shoved it firmly inside. Anan's enlarged cock's head hit Tank's virgin G-spot, and Tank moaned as previously unfelt sensations swirled through his body and into his querying mind.

"Good," he gasped. "That feels good. Oh, damn, does that feel good!" Tank tentatively pushed his ass back to meet Anan's next thrust, and pleasure exploded inside his grasping cunt. "Harder," Tank demanded. "Fuck me harder."

"You'll take what you're given!" Anan snarled as she gripped Tank's shoulders and bent her knees so she could increase the upward angle of her thrust. Her muscly abdomen smacked into Tank's tight ass. Every time it did, her balls swung forward and slapped Tank's clit.

The changed angle brought Anan's glans into contact with Tank's G-spot for a longer time. Anan increased the strength and speed of her thrusts, and she felt Tank's orgasm peak speed toward him. Taking her right hand off his shoulder, Anan spanked Tank's right ass cheek and growled, "Tell me how much you love me fucking you, slut! Tell me you adore having my big cock in your slutty cunt!"

Tank, whose mind was shorted entirely out, began babbling as Anan powered her thick cock in and out of his drooling pussy. "Fuck me, Mistress. Fuck your horny little slut. Your slut loves your massive cock in his slutty cunt. He wants you to fuck him and fill his cunt with your cum."

Anan could have let herself go then, but she wanted Tank to climax before she did. She stretched her arms around Tank's massive chest and pinched his nipples. "Shame you don't have tits for me to maul, slut," she snarled. "If you want me to do you regularly, you'll have to grow some for me." She released a nipple and spanked Tank as she slammed into him again.

The sudden implanted image of having Anan mauling his breasts smashed Tank's remaining moral restraints apart. He groaned deep down in his massive chest, jerked, moaned, shuddered, jerked again and then spat cum from his enormous cock as pussy fluids gushed from his cock-filled pussy.

Grinning delightedly, Anan smacked Tank's ass again before short-hunching several more times. Then, pulling all but the tip of her thick 7-inch, she slammed into him and held still. Anan shivered as her cock viciously spat semen into Tank's no longer virgin pussy. She pulled back a little and jammed back in. Her cock spat again, adding to the copious amount of fluid already leaking back out of her lover's cunt. Anan short-hunched twice more before her climax ran its course, and her cock slowly deflated.

Anan stepped back, her wilted cock a pussy fluid and semen-covered disgrace. "Kneel and clean me," she demanded as she sat on her office chair, exhausted.

Tank hesitatingly knelt before the beautiful researcher. 'You've gone down on a woman when you didn't get her there before you," he told himself. "This is no different." It was, though. He'd never cleaned cum and pussy juice from a cock before. Tank wrapped his hand around Anan's floppy shaft and lowered his mouth onto it. Experimentally sticking his tongue out, he tasted the secretions slathered on Anan's cock. 'Not too bad,' he thought, opening his mouth wider and accepting Anan inside.

Tank bobbed his head from Anan's glans to his wrapped fist. When his lips hit his fist, Tank sucked the smeared cum and pussy juice from it. Before too long, Tank felt Anan's cock grow in his mouth and fist. She groaned and placed a hand on the back of his head. Holding Tank still, Anan tried to force more of her shaft into Tank's mouth. He tried to resist, but Anan growled, "Suck, bitch," and somehow, Tank's resistance faded, and he slid his clenched fist lower as he sucked Anan deeper.

Although Tank was a novice cock sucker, he'd been with many women who had struggled to accept more than the first three or four inches of his lengthy cock into their mouths. He was, therefore, surprised when Anan's thickened and hardened penis slid past his gag reflex and down his throat without a problem.

"Another improvement to your physiology," Anan smugly announced as she began face fucking Tank. "Your gag reflex no longer reacts to penises."

Once again, Tank found the juxtaposition of his and his lover's positions strangely erotic and exciting. Ignoring Tenerife's prohibition, Tank took his massively throbbing member in his hand and tugged it vigorously as he enjoyed Anan's thrusting cock. His left hand unawarely moved from Anan's hip to cup her ripe-plum balls. His fingers felt her wetness, and he remembered Anan had a pussy, too. He pressed his thumb against her clit, slid his forefinger into her vulva and stimulated her G-spot.

Anan moaned a warble that started guttural and ended in an almost comical screech. Her entire body shook before her muscles locked. A series of deep grunts followed her comical screech as she ejaculated into Tank's almost willing mouth. When she shuddered a final time, dribbling what little was left in her balls into Tank, Anan staggered back and sat down heavily. Tank didn't know what to do with the pool of cum in his reluctant mouth. But not seeing anywhere to spit it, he grimaced and swallowed.

"Pretty good, Mister Zaffra," Anan panted. "Get me hard, and I'll do your ass next."

"Yeah, not ready for that," Tank mumbled as the guilt kicked in. 'Does doing that make me a fag?' He wondered. Tank worked in Hollywood and therefore, worked with a lot of gays and lesbians. He wasn't homophobic in any way, but he'd never even masturbated to tranny porn before. It wasn't that he was against gays, it was that Tank had never contemplated touching a dick other than his own, and he certainly never thought he'd suck or be fucked by one.

Anan laughed amusedly at Tank's refusal before saying, "That's it for today. There are showers behind you through that door. Drop your shorts and runners down the laundry shoot, and I'll see you tomorrow for more tests." She turned away, put her jumpsuit back on, and sat before her computer.

Knowing he'd been about as summarily dismissed as he'd ever been, Tank picked up his sweaty shorts and did as instructed. The gym was empty after he'd showered, so Tank made his way back to the cafeteria. He wasn't hungry, but he hoped to see Julie again. Tank wasn't sure if it was emasculated that he felt, but he wanted some reassurance from the gorgeous Hollywood A-list actress that he wasn't suddenly a cock hound.

He asked for a pot of tea and a couple of cups and sat, waiting for Julie. Thirty minutes later, Tank finished the pot without a sign of Ms Angelina. Disappointed, he considered whether to return to his hospital room or go to the gym and exercise his frustrations away. 'The gym,' Tank decided. 'I don't know if I could stand it if they put that fucking tent around me and forced more of that gas into me again.'

He stood, intending to follow through on his thought. Unfortunately, before he could exit the cafeteria, Margraine and Genet entered. This time, they were accompanied by a 'full-bird' colonel instead of Major Tenerife. He watched them warily as they searched the cafeteria for him. When they saw him, and knowing something was up, Tank schooled his thoughts and put a slight smile on his face. "A 'full-bird' colonel? To what do I owe this rather dubious honour?"

The three officers marched in step toward him, but as they drew close, Genet and Margraine moved apart until it was impossible for Tank to see them both as he looked at the colonel.

"I'm Colonel Tangran," the newcomer stated with military stiffness and correctness. "You will accompany me to your room without complaint or delay."

"What happened to Major Tenerife?" Tank asked, ignoring the colonel's demand.

"That is none of your concern," Genet hissed from Tank's left.

"Oh, but it is," Tank drawled. "You see, I at least partially trust him. You two bitches, I do not trust at all."

"You will accompany me to your room without complaint or delay," Colonel Tangran repeated.

"Is that a wind-up toy?" Tank said disparagingly. "Does it say anything else?"

"You will accompany me to your room without complaint or delay," Colonel Tangran said again.

"Obviously not," Tank shrugged.

"I am a superior officer," Tangram barked. "You will obey me!"

"I've got news for you, sport," Tank sneered. "I'm not in your fucking army."

"You will obey...!" Genet started to snarl before Tank interrupted.

"Or what?"

"I will make you..."

"You couldn't make me put on a parker in a snowstorm," Tank contemptuously spat.

"I will make you..." Genet started again.

Needling her, Tank sneered, "You couldn't last time."

"Maybe you're immune to personal threats, Mister Zaffra," Margraine stated from Tank's right. "But I'm sure if we bring Ms Angelina in here and start hurting her, your opinion will change."

"Initially, yes," Tank agreed, flexing his broad shoulders showily. "But then I'll remember that you've stated we're both dead anyway and figure I might as well take as many of you with me as I can." He turned his eyes to the colonel. "If Julie is hurt in any way, then all bets are off, and we'll discover just how many of you it takes to bring me down."

The colonel reached for his sidearm attached to his left hip. Before he'd even undone the button on the strap holding the pistol in place, Tank had crossed and grabbed his elbow. Digging his fingers into Tangran's ulna nerve, Tank put his face beside his ear, "You really don't want to do that." He snarled. "If you're going to pull a damned gun out to shoot me, you'd better be at least twenty-one feet away when you start."