John

John let his head fall to his chest only to have it wrenched violently back up. He found himself staring into Lenny's dark glinting eyes. "So, what's it gonna be?"

When John didn't answer straight away, his captor sighed and released his grip on his hair before stepping away. John glanced up and winced as the first blow fell.

***

He didn't recall when the beating had stopped, nor when he surrendered the codes and passkeys they wanted. His body had become almost numb if not oblivious to the torture. His eyes had swollen to the point that he could barely see. He lost consciousness so many times he lost all sense of time and presence. Each time he blacked out he was rousted back into his agonizing nightmare with the dreadful salts.

He became aware of his body laying on the floor, every inch of it screaming in agony from the abuse of his captors. He was on his face, and he heard them discussing something excitedly nearby. He heard the tapping of a laptop and repeated whoops of victory.

Suddenly he felt an immense weight crash down on his back and shoulders and felt hot breath on the side of his face. A terrible ripping, burning pain jolted him as he felt his anus being assaulted. He screamed once more at the utter shame and outrage of his violation. The weight increased as did the persistent agony and burning. He felt himself being stretched apart as a hard slick shaft pressed deeper and deeper into him. A grunt sounded in his ear as the weight settled and he felt his rapist begin pumping in and out of him. His screams went unheeded as the assault continued for what seemed hours. He felt his butt being smashed repeatedly as his poor asshole was stretched further and further.

In the background he heard Lenny and Eleanor laughing at his raping. He bit back further screams and gritted his teeth against the pain until he felt the pumping increase suddenly until a groan escaped his assailant and the release of several hot jets of sperm into his colon. The man collapsed atop him and breathed for several minutes before climbing off and withdrawing his sagging penis slowly from the tight confines of John's anus.

No sooner had the man climbed off than another took his place, and he experienced an even bigger and greater violation of his asshole. He screamed again and the laughs renewed. He felt strong hands press down on his shoulders as his new rapist grunted rapidly with each thrust of his pelvis. His screams faded into pitiful sobs as he begged for the attack to stop.

"Ahhh. Pauli you made him cry again." Ellie teased with a lighthearted giggle.

Pauli grunted faster and faster as he shoved his dick deeper and deeper into John's burning asshole. Then he thrust hard and held himself as he shot his cum into the man below him. His swollen dick spasmed repeatedly until he was spent and then he climbed off his back, pulling out painfully with a slippery popping sound.

John lay on the floor weeping and shedding tears of hot rage and humiliation, waiting for the next attack to come. Instead, he was pulled limply back to his feet and dropped back into the chair. He tried to glance around but the room was a blur through his swollen eyes. A large shadow stood before him and grabbed his face causing even more pain to shoot through his broken jaw.

"Thank you Johnny." Lenny's mocking voice spoke inches from his face. "We couldn't have done this without ya." A barking laugh at his own humor. "Open up, I got one more present for ya before we part ways for good."

He felt his jaw being squeezed and he opened his mouth to cry out in pain. His cry was cut off as Lenny inserted his own stiff cock into his mouth and began shoving it down his throat. He gagged and tried to move his head away, but two hands gripped his hair tightly and began pulling his face forward with each thrust of the enormous cock.

"Ah yeah." He heard Lenny grunt as he tried to force himself deeper into Johns throat. "That's real good Johnny. I'm gonna fuck your face just like I fuck Ellie's pussy, hard and deep!" He grunted.

Some time during his long beating and subsequent rape, his hands were resecured to each other in front. He was barely aware of his actions as his mind began to slip into blackness from the hypoxia. He felt rather than saw Lenny's legs straddling him as he sat in the chair. In an act of sheer desperation and panic he raised his bound hands as hard as he could, striking his attacker in the groin with a vicious blow.

He heard a strangled scream and felt the pressure in his throat lessen as Lenny fell back in agony. He subconsciously bit down causing an even louder shriek before he was knocked violently over to spill back onto the floor.

"Ayeee! Goddammit! He bit me! He fucking bit me!" Was the last thing John heard before he saw the boot stomping down on his head. He would never recall the grim sense of satisfaction he felt an instant before everything went black for the last time.

Chapter Three—Present time Friday October 15^th,

Monique Thibodeau was a mulatto woman who inherited the best traits from her Nigerian father and French mother. She had darker olive toned skin and perfect angular facial features with high cheek bones and dusky gray eyes. Her hair was bleached to a light copper color and straightened so that it fell to her shoulders evenly. She wore stepped bangs across her forehead which highlighted her thin eyebrows and piercing eyes. She nearly always wore skintight leggings and a halter top that displayed her incredible body to its fullest, whenever she was working with John during his therapy. In the pool she wore a skimpy one-piece that bordered on scandalous.

He met her shortly after his spinal surgery and they had been working closely together each day since, for hours at a time. If she wasn't coaching him on his ambulation or on his isotonic resistance exercises, she was working with him on the routine activities like dressing, cooking, eating, washing, and shaving, or ADLs (activities of daily living). She also served as his massage therapist and helped him relearn how to perform even the most routine functions like keyboarding, texting, and operating a remote control.

John loved and hated her. She never lost her sweet positive personality no matter how angry and abusive he was to her in return. He could not argue the success of her efforts as he grew stronger and more independent. He was told that the Nanobots would play a significant role in his rehabilitation, allowing his muscles to grow back faster and leaner, while increasing his endurance and energy. She was always delighted with his progress and firm when he slacked off. She became a constant in his life from morning til night.

One Saturday evening she appeared in his room wearing a terry cloth robe and carrying a tray with several items on it. She smiled brightly at his crestfallen look and laughed lightly.

"Don't be so happy to see me John." She chided as she sat on the edge of his queen-sized Sleep Number bed. The robe parted by her knees revealing a length of long mahogany toned leg. "You can relax I am not here in an official capacity...well not quite." She mused. The tray contained a specimen cup a square jar and a small box. There were several wrapped objects as well.

"I thought we were done for the day Mon." He grumbled. He didn't really mind her presence, in fact he found himself drawn to her more and more every day. Still, he was sore all over and was looking forward to a good night's rest.

"I spoke to Dr. Willoughby earlier today and she mentioned that she needed to collected a semen sample from you." The dark-skinned woman said delicately. "She wanted to have you self-express tomorrow morning, but I convinced her that we could obtain it much sooner." She set down the tray and lifted a little packet from it. It was a sealed condom in a plain white wrapper.

John stared back at her stunned as she beamed at his astonished reaction. "Say wha..."

"Unless you would rather go masturbate for her in her lab."

"Uh. Yeah. NO!" He was utterly flummoxed at her brazen openness. And lay back helpless as she confidently pulled his covers down to the foot of his bed. He only wore a pair of soft white cotton briefs to bed. She stood over him and untied her robe slowly, watching his face as his eyes widened. With a shrug of her shoulders, she let the robe fall open and drop to her feet. She was completely naked beneath it, and he felt his throat tighten as he beheld her fabulous body.

The first thing he noticed was her perfect breasts. They swelled out from her chest and curved up with her long petite nipples sticking upwards from the darker cones of her areolas. She was too athletic for very large tits, but he was sure she was at least a C cup. They rose above her flat toned stomach that displayed even ridges of abdominal muscles before curving erotically to her round hips and thick legs. Her mons was completely free of hair, and he could see the thin slit of her vagina as it disappeared between her legs. His groin tingled as his dick began to swell.

She sat back on the side of his bed and leaned forward cradling his scarred and mutilated face in her soft hands. She pressed her lips against his and then opened them slightly to probe his mouth with her tongue. She tasted so good he found himself reaching up to hold her against him. She moaned softly and pressed her lips more firmly into his.

Then she pulled away from him, rising back to her feet. With expert efficiency and gentle hands, she pulled his briefs down his legs and slipped them off his feet. She had bathed him dozens of times and assisted him to do so many more, so his nudity was nothing new to her. Seeing his growing erection however caused her to feel a rush of warmth through her belly and down into her groin. She was present enough to notice the gradual changes in his body over time and his impressive response to her physical therapy regimen. His body mass index had long surpassed his preadmission standard physique and he had been putting on muscle rapidly. She was especially impressed to see his penile growth as well and witnessing his first erection since his trauma was fascinating to her.

She gently took his hard member in her hand and looked back into his eyes assuring him that her lust matched his own. "Darling, we have to collect the sample first so there can be no intercourse for the moment." She explained. Then she dipped her head and took his entire swollen head into her mouth eagerly. He felt the vibration in her throat as she hummed. Her tongue lavishly wrapped around his shaft and painted it lovingly along it's entire length. Then her cheeks sank in as she began sucking him and taking him further down her throat with bobbing gyrations of her beautiful head.

John closed his eyes and lifted his face to the ceiling as the pleasure washed over him. He groaned loudly and began bucking his hips involuntarily. She matched his rhythm and continued working her lips up and down his length, taking him deeper and deeper until her nose began bumping his pubis.

"Oh God! Oh God!" He began groaning as he felt every pleasure center in his pelvis firing off. His left testicle began rising up into his groin and he felt her release her grip on his shaft as she pulled her mouth off of him. He opened his eyes and peered down at her as she expertly removed the condom from the wrapper and placed it into her mouth. With incredible skill she lowered her mouth back over his shaft, applying the prophylactic at the same time. He felt the material squeeze his girth as she rolled it down his length.

She looked up at him hungrily as she moved her delicious mouth down to his scrotum and began licking and sucking his balls while stroking his hard shaft vigorously with her hand. For a brief second he was disappointed by the interference of the artificial membrane, but her sudden stimulation of his only functioning testicle, sent him into orbit. With a gasp his hips spasmed and she redoubled her efforts to jerk him off until he began shooting his seed into the reservoir in several great spurts. She continued stroking and milking him until he begged her to stop. Then she just as expertly removed the condom from his softening cock.

She held it up with the reservoir full of cum hanging down and removed the rubber top from a blood tube. With a small pair of stainless scissors, she made a cut into the tip of the reservoir and then squeezed his sperm into the tube like she was piping frosting onto a cake. It practically filled the 8 ml tube. With a satisfied smile she replaced the rubber cap and placed it back in the tube holder. She rose with the tray and walked across his room towards the door. He watched the wave of her delightful ass as she walked away from him.

As she approached the door it suddenly opened admitting Dr. Willoughby who took the tray from the naked woman without a word (or change in her cool expression). As the door closed after her, his personal trainer turned and sauntered erotically back over to him and crawled into his bed bedside him, pulling the covers up with her. He welcomed her embrace with his arms wrapping around her. They kissed once more and explored each other's mouths.

When they parted lips she looked lovingly into his eyes and said, "Now we are free to make all the love we want."

Her words were music to his ears.

***

It turned out that, not only was his sole testicle viable, but it also more than compensated for it's missing twin. Dr Willoughby was encouraged by this and requested further specimens to experiment with. Monique was happy to assist.

As he progressed with his physical rehabilitation he also underwent extensive psychological counseling and evaluation to help him piece together his fragmented memories and deal with the emotional trauma. As he recalled more and more of the violence that was put to him, he began having nightmares. No amount of physical therapy or nanobot technology could help him with the burden of his mental anguish. Still, it was comforting to wake up in the arms of the woman he grew to know so well and love so deeply. If nothing else it was reassuring just to know that she was there.

The further he progressed in his treatment, the more interest he drew from other staff members of the institute. All were eager to test the limits of his body by some means or another. He was put through the paces in various physical challenges from strength to speed and endurance. One time a group of lab coats marched him into a sophisticated tanning booth to expose his nude body to the most extreme solar radiation one could find on the planet. His skin not only absorbed the abuse without the slightest reddening, but he also developed an enviable tan in the process. He wasn't an Olympic class athlete by any stretch but with continued training he would certainly surpass even that lofty goal.

The one thing that they approached with any delicateness was his left eye, or lack thereof. For the majority of his rehabilitation he was fitted with a soft orbital prosthetic and carried on with an eye patch. Several times he was taken back to the surgical center for time consuming and delicate reconstructive procedures to his optic nerves and orbital structure.

The day eventually came when he was prepared for his replacement mechanical eye. He was sat down in a room with a group of doctors who tried to explain to him the advantages and limitations of the device. He was handed models and explained how it would be attached to his existing nerve fibers.

"This is all breakthrough technology and highly experimental." Explained one of the doctors. "Meaning that the theory is sound, but we lack solid empirical data to corroborate."

"So I am a Guiney pig." John replied lightly. He was used to it by now.

"Indeed. But on the flip side—what have you got to lose, eh?" Another red-haired chap quipped with a slight British accent.

"So what I gather is that, with this new-fangled eyeball, I will no longer be blind in my left eye, but I won't be able to see either."

"We can only speculate until we actually perform the procedure and analyze the results." The older gentleman said with infinite patience. "We can theorize many scenarios; for instance it is absolutely certain that you will have no color definition in any images that you perceive." He continued with a dry monotone. "You will have no sense of depth perception from the prosthetic, but your good eye will likely compensate to provide you at least some improvement. I can't speak to how clear you will see through the synthetic eye piece, but I can theorize that you will have much improved night vision."

He went on for several minutes and John tried to keep up with the technical jargon but failed miserably. Finally he raised his hands in defeat and they paused.

"Guys. Let's just do it and see how it goes." He surrendered amicably. "Where do I sign?"

An ever-present tablet was produced, and he scribbled where indicated before returning to his suite to wait once more. The procedure was completed the following day, but he remained bandaged until his tissues could heal. There was a great deal of anticipation to find out what, if any, value the nanobots would offer during the healing process.

Dr Malcolm made infrequent appearances that were always brief as well as emotionally sterile. He commended John on his progress and made available to him all access to the limited information they had on his previous work and the current whereabouts of his assailants. It didn't take him long to bring himself up to speed, once he sat down at the computer provided to him. He was able to perform his own forensic investigation into the financial dealings that led to his unfortunate circumstance. His home computer was no longer online but the digital footprints were easy for him to locate and sort though until he had an accurate picture of what had happened. He not only traced the funds from the corrupted accounts, but he was able to assimilate a play by play of every digital move they made and where they made it from.

The legal and social team that helped him create his new identity and back stopped credentials, encouraged him to just let bygones be and to move on with his new lease of life. But he was deaf to their pleas. As he began reintegrating into society he remained ever determined to exact his revenge on the people responsible for his current state. And he would get far more than his pound of flesh out of it.

During one of his first chaperoned excursions, he found out quickly that his facial scarring had rendered him completely unrecognizable to any of his previous associates. In fact, his disfigurement was so profound that he found people actively trying to avoid him. Dr.'s Malcolm and Willoughby offered and encouraged him to undergo plastic surgery, assuring him of his continued anonymity, but he refused. He was determined to carry his scars as a physical symbol of the hate he felt for his (ex) wife and her lover.

Chapter Four—Present Day Friday December 17^th, 2021

Jimmy Simms (or Sweet Jimmy as he was known) sat before his vanity added the final touches to his makeup. He hummed R-E-S-P-E-C-T by Aretha Franklin as he pursed his lips at the fabulous woman staring back at him. She was taller, shinny and oh so black. Her long lashes glistened with the glittery extensions and her blue eye shadow blended in with her outlandish rouge cheeks. The wig adoring his head was made up with curls and curly bangs that accentuated his almond shaped eyes that he inherited from his Korean mother.

He stood twirling fashionably before the mirror clad only in lacey pearl panties and a matching bra that he stuffed with tissues. He reached for his ankle length sequined grown and stepped into it, just as a knock sounded on his dressing room door. He gave a very masculine curse under his breath and then reverted back to his 'sweet' nom de scene. "Sweet Jimmy ain't ready for visitors yet!" He called out sweetly.