Kasey's Confession Ch. 12

The restraints Gary used to secure me, face down, on his bed were well-worn leather restraints attached to unusually heavy chain. Once I was restrained and helpless, spread-eagle across his bed, which was stripped off all blankets and sheets except for a single, very clean white sheet underneath me that felt like it was made of tablecloth fabric rather than the fabric one usually made bed sheets from.

"You look so beautiful," he said once he was convinced I was completely secured. "Damn though, your ass has been fucked completely raw. I thought you said you were new in 'the business' as they say?"

"I was gangbanged at a party," I confessed.

"Willingly or...?"

"Willingly," I replied.

"Your body is so smooth," Gary said as he used his hands to gently apply some kind of oil or cream all over my naked body, "and so feminine. Are you on any kind of hormone treatment?"

"No," I said.

"So you are naturally built like a bitch with a dick," he said, matter-of-factly.

"I guess."

Gary walked away from the bed and into another room. He came back pushing a little cart of the kind one rolls food on in a hospital. I strained to see what he was doing, but it was hard to hold my head up and turn it in that direction.

Gary checked my restraints to make sure they were tight and tightened the one around my right ankle, the one without the "cocksucker" tattoo. Then he went back to his cart and pulled out three long hypodermic needles and placed them on a towel he had draped over the top of his cart.

"What are you doing?" I said and started straining against my restraints, trying to free myself. "I didn't agree to whatever you are doing with those needles."

"Poor baby," he said, sounding sarcastic and dismissive. "Why do you think I had you agree to be restrained?"

He prepared one needle and while I struggled he pressed it against the back of my right thigh and injected me with whatever he had in the needle. Then he waited and watched me as I stopped struggling and my body went completely limp.

"Very powerful muscle relaxant," he told me flatly.

He went to his cart and got another needle after tying off my arm with a piece of rubber tubing. He then emptied the content of the second needle into my bloodstream.

"This will heighten your awareness of your surroundings and intensify your body's reaction to stimuli," he said as he leaned down to kiss my ass cheek.

I felt no immediate effect from the second shot, and Gary immediately went back for the third needle. He prepared it and then injected it into the hamstring muscle of my left thigh.

"That one," he said after finishing, "will make you extremely suggestible. Your impulse to think independently is suppressed and you become eager to follow whatever you are told to do as a compensation for becoming unable to think independently."

After quite some time passed with Gary just watching me and checking my vital signs from every few minutes, I started to feel very strange. I was lightheaded, but it was more than that. A fly was buzzing around in front of my face, and as I turned to look at it the fly took on the appearance of a gigantic cartoon dragon.

"How you doin'?" it asked in a weird, comical voice.

"Oh shit," I started yelling in a panic while struggling against my restraints, "let me out of here!"

The colors and shapes throughout the room were starting to blend together and I could hear what sounded like carnival music. I continued to struggle and panic for several minutes, and then I started to feel something else, something I couldn't define or even understand. I stopped understanding why I was struggling, or why I wanted to go free, or why I was at all bothered by the strange surroundings.

"You are very glad to be here," Gary whispered in my ear.

"I am glad," I said with a smile as I watched what appeared to be two demonic butterflies staring at me from their perch on the bookshelf.

Gary walked around the bed and released my restraints. I remained in the same position, stretched across the bed, after the restraints were removed until Gary told me to bring my arms and legs together and to turn over.

I couldn't operate my muscles very well at all, but I struggled to comply and got upset when I was unable to do as I was told. Then Gary crawled onto the bed and helped me to comply with his request. Once I had drawn my arms and legs in to my body and turned over I felt very happy, not because I was more comfortable and free, but that I had been able to follow instructions and comply with them.

"You are the perfect subject for my experiments," Gary told me as he scribbled notes in a journal. As I looked at him, pleased that he'd called me a 'perfect subject' he took on the appearance of a powerful wizard I remembered from an old cartoon. With the room awash in vibrant colors and sound seeming to form shapes that floated in the air, his appearance felt comforting.

He helped me sit up enough to drink a large glass of water and then let my head rest on a pillow he provided. It felt so soft against my head, like an explosion of feathers which then danced around my head.

"We can't let you get dehydrated," he explained before continuing. "I've learned quite a bit from past experiments, before they took my medical license and called me a dangerous quack. When I came here to utilize the streetwalker population. I needed a clean subject, which is hard to come by with all these junkies around her, and you were so perfect."

Gary took on the appearance of a large cartoon duck, and his voice started sounding like he was quacking between sentences. I giggled and smiled.

"I see no evidence that you are a habitual drug user," he said, continuing to scribble in his notebook, "but I do worry that you have one or more STDs with the evidence that shows you've engaged in very frequent and heavy anal sex."

"I like getting fucked hard," I giggled. "I love it, love it, love it."

"Of that I have no doubt," muttered Dr. Duck, which had become the name I thought of now when I looked at Gary. "That is not the focus of my experiment. I do intend to utilize you sexually, but not within the parameters of my work. That will be for recreation."

"Okay," I smiled.

"How do you feel about yourself?"

I stared blankly at Dr. Duck.

"Do you hate yourself? Do you engage in dangerous, self-destructive behavior as a way of expressing frustration with who you are?"

"Huh?"

"For the sake of this first experiment, we'll assume that you are a self-hating man who has engaged in self-destructive behaviors, such as anal sex with many partners, and prostituting himself on the street, in order to escape from the shortcomings he feels he has and the disappointments he's faced and been unable to deal with."

"You look like a duck," I giggled.

"I would like to determine if, under the influence of the drugs I have listed as being used during the experiments; it is possible to make the test subject fall in love with himself. The subject, Kasey, is a transvestite prostitute who is new to the streets. He presents as female with a lower body that is very feminine, but an upper body and face that are very male, although I would not say masculine. The subject was found wearing very short women's shorts which did not completely cover his buttocks, along with a pair of five inch high heeled shoes which showed off the subject's high arches and toenails, which were painted a bright pink, and accented his very attractive, long, feminine legs."

His words swam around me like a bizarre and incomprehensible soup. He was talking out loud as he wrote in his journal and barely looked at me at all while doing so.

Dr. Duck came over to the bed and helped me sit up and prop myself up against the headboard with pillows behind me. He then put a device that looked like a big flashlight down over my penis, which felt amazingly soft and warm as it gently squeezed me. Then he attached the restraints around my ankles again, but this time they were attached to a kind of pulley system above the bed, which he used to pull my legs so they were pointed upwards and my inner thighs were brushing against the sides of my face. Then he worked some kind of electric dildo into my asshole. When he turned it on, the vibrations filled me with incredibly, ecstatic feeling, but then he turned it off and left it inside me.

"Look at your beautiful legs," he said. When I did so, marveling at how under the influence of the drugs I'd been given my legs looked stunning and overwhelmingly beautiful. "Now," he went on to say, "when you say 'my legs are beautiful' or 'I have gorgeous legs' you will get a quick vibration from the vibrator and a quick jerk from the simulated vagina. When you say 'I love my legs' you will also get one of each, but if you say, for example, 'I want to make love to my legs' or 'I am falling in love with my legs' you will get two of each. If you kiss and lick your own legs, you get jolts from both devices for the entire time you physically demonstrate desire and love, and those jolts with intensify as you talk to your legs and tell them you love them, that you want to make love to them, so on and so forth. Just go with what feels good and keep going until you reach orgasm. Then we will take a break and begin again when you are ready."

With my face sandwiched between my thighs, which felt unbelievably soft and smooth, I started talking to them, telling them I loved them and thought they were beautiful. When I spoke it came out as real emotion and not as something I was saying because I was told to. I could feel the real emotion and kept going, buoyed by that feeling and by how the devices in my ass and around my penis gave me very pleasing jolts with every statement of love and admiration.

I wanted more, as the jolts were pleasing, but ended too abruptly and left me wanting more, so I began kissing my legs. The kisses were slow and deliberate at first, but became more passionate as the jolts became more regular and more satisfying.

After a few minutes I was unable to control myself. I was feverously kissing and licking my legs while moaning out statements such as "I'm so in love with my legs" and "My legs are so beautiful" and finally "I am in love with myself! I am in love with myself!" over and over until the jolts became so intense that my body shook in a profound and intense orgasm that was nothing like I'd ever felt before. It exploded in color and light and everything seemed so beautiful and heavenly.

Dr. Duck started again, after giving me another dose of all three of the drugs, and once again I passionately tore into my thighs, kissing and licking and biting them with uncontrollable desire, professing my love for them and for myself.

We repeated the process many times, and while the repeated efforts did not necessarily produce and orgasm, the feeling I got was so intense and enjoyable that I kept going. At one point, Dr. Duck took away the stimulation devices from my ass and penis and had me make out with my legs and profess love for them without stimulation, which I did to the point of losing consciousness in an ecstatic haze.

Dr. Duck kept me drugged for at least three days, feeding me, giving me water, and allowing me time to rest between sessions. As they went on, I no longer needed encouragement, and no longer noticed the absence of the sexually stimulating devices that were taken away after the first day.

At the beginning of the third day, Dr. Duck talked to me in an affirmative voice while having me watch a video with a series of seemingly unrelated images.

"You love your legs not only because they are beautiful and sexy and arouse you more than anything or anyone, but because of how good they are to carry the rest of you around town when you walk somewhere, because of how they support you when you stand..."

His affirmations went on for what felt like forever as I stared at the images on the screen while my head was held in place by some sort of restraint device I couldn't comprehend in my altered state of consciousness. By the time he stopped talking and reminding me of how good my legs had been to me throughout my life and how they attracted men I could please sexually, I wanted nothing other than to kiss them and lick them and tell them I was in love with them.

I was almost hyperventilating as Dr. Duck leaned me back onto the bed. He covered my thighs with a thick, slippery oil that could have been anything from vegetable oil to baby oil. Then he used a good deal of heavy twine to tie my ankles together and then to tie my legs together just above the knees. After that had been done, he tied a very strong string around the base of my penis, which had gotten quite hard, and then pulled the two ends of string between my thighs and secured the ends around each of my big toes before pulling me up to a kneeling position.

The string pulled tighter, pulling my erect penis between my oiled thighs, which we tied together. When I breathed or moved in any way, the string would tighten to give some slack, or my thighs would move in unison, or some other part of me would move in some small way that all brought the same result.

I was fucking my thighs with my dick and I couldn't stop.

My heart was racing, my breathing was fast and intense, I was moaning deeper and louder than I ever had, and the sensation was more than I could bear. I started trying to use my hands to stop what was happening, but when they fell on my thighs and tried to pull them apart, all that happened was that my dick slapped back and forth along the oiled slot between my thighs, and before long I was enjoying touching my slippery legs too much to even consider doing anything else with my hands.

"I fucking love my legs! I love my legs! I'm so fucking in love with my legs!" I yelled as I moaned loudly and uncontrollably and kept trying to catch my breath. I couldn't remember ever being anything close to as excited and sexually stimulated as I was at that moment. I leaned forward and down with my head, trying to kiss my own thighs as my rock hard dick continued mercilessly fucking the impossibly beautiful and smooth flesh of my inner thighs.

It came unexpectedly, as my throes of ecstatic overload masked it all too well, but I was about to get off, and as my dick sank between my slick thighs and came up again for air, there was a sudden jerk and semen began shooting out of me and across the tops of my thighs.

"Rest, and then we will begin again."

On the fourth day, the regular doses of the drugs Gary had been giving to me stopped. I began the day completely sober and straight. He no longer looked like a cartoon duck to me, and the intensity of my surroundings had given way to looking like the hovel of an apartment I had first entered four days earlier.

Gary handed me two hundred dollars, all in twenty and ten dollar bills, and said it was to pay for my "troubles." He also asked me if I would stick around for a while so he could see the results of his experiment and document his "findings."

"I don't really have anywhere else to go," I said. He brought me a can of store brand spaghetti and orange-colored sauce and gave me a spoon to eat it with. As I sat eating it, my focus fell down on my legs, crossed under the table as I was eating.

I could not look away, I reached down and started running my hands up and down along the full length of them while quietly moaning. I closed my eyes and kept touching my legs and muttering "I love you, I love you, I love you," to them.

"Kasey? Are you okay?" Gary asked.

"Yes," I said quickly and opened my eyes. "I, um, think I need to be alone for a little while."

"You can use the bedroom," he said with a smile. "I'll be out here waiting until you get back."

I went into the bedroom and closed the door. My hands started roaming down to my legs and I threw myself onto the bed and began groping and kissing my legs with unbridled passion while moaning out that I was in love with them and I wanted to make love to them. After a few minutes I pulled out my erect penis and began slapping it against my thighs and rubbing it hard and fast against my thigh with my open hand. My moaning got louder and louder, as did my professions of love, but Gary did not enter the room.

Once I had ejaculated, I relaxed and reclined on the bed, gently caressing my legs and quietly telling them I loved them like one would do with a lover in the afterglow of making love.

When I got dressed again and went out to the kitchen, Gary was sitting at the table with his journal and writing in it while talking out loud about what he was writing.

"The Subject has been an excellent application of my theory that the emotion of love can be stimulated and created in people, thus proving it is no more than chemical reactions that combine to produce the effect known as 'love.' Subject Kasey has, through three days of constant stimulation and alterations of the brain and body chemistry, reached the point where he has actually fallen in love with his own legs. While he already had an unnatural high fascination with them, and in showing them off, he is now showing signs of uncontrollable passion and strong feelings of what is commonly considered to be 'romantic love.' Now Day Four, the subject has been taken off all three of the pharmaceuticals used to manipulate him and continues to show the passion and romantic love for his legs that he did before he was taken off the pharmaceuticals."

I stood there, looked exhausted and happy, as I stood in my heels and short shorts watching Gary work and talk.

"Hello, Kasey," Gary said as he closed his journal. "How about sucking my cock?"

"I would love to," I said and got down on my knees in front of him while he opened his pants and pulled out his cock and balls.

"Nice and slow," he said, "I like a blowjob that lasts all afternoon."

I smiled and got myself in closer so I could lick and kiss the full length of his flaccid cock. I smiled when I saw it start to react, becoming larger and fuller and harder. I licked hungrily at his balls and covered the big sack covered with gray pubic hair they sat in with long, wet kisses. By the time I made it back up to his cock it had made considerable progress towards full erect status and it only took my taking the head of it between my lips to cause it to fully stiffen.

I kept him going for as long as possible, alternating between taking his cock completely into my mouth and sucking its full length, licking and kissing my way up and down the shaft, sucking just the head while working the tip with my tongue, and lapping hungrily at his balls. I was pleased at how well I could keep him moaning and twitching for so long as I followed his instructions to give him a blowjob "that lasts all afternoon."

When at last I brought him to orgasm, it was an earth-shattering explosion made more intense by the prolonged build-up. As I felt him about to ejaculate, I took his cock deep into my mouth so he could shoot his load down my throat. I no longer gagged at all. It had become all too natural for me and my body had gotten very used to it.

I'd leave Gary's weird apartment with his strange and demented experiments with the two hundred dollars he gave me. I'd see him from time to time, watching me and writing in his journal as he made observations about my behavior and lifestyle, but we never got together again.

I got a room at the cheesy hotel and buy needed supplies with the money he'd paid me. I worked the streets for the next three months, earning enough to keep my room and pay for other expenses like food, clothing, beauty supplies and condoms. I always kept a lot of condoms on hand. I got to know the girls who worked the streets, as well as one very slightly built man with boyish looks who also survived through prostituting himself.