Natural Inclinations Pt. 08

Each of us is born with a built-in set of traits and characteristics unique to that individual. Only, from the very start, we are told those individualistic quirks are not acceptable and must be pushed deep inside. To forget about what nature gave us. Instead, we are forced to conform to what society says is normal.

However, for a lucky few, someone will intercede, helping to cast off those restraints. Allowing for the reemergence and free expression of his or her own... Natural Inclinations

This is the continuing story of one such lucky individual.

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RECAP -- When we left our recent High School grad, Peter was bound to a hairdresser's chair in a beauty salon. The short version of why goes like this: After asking (practically begging) the woman next door to teach him what life as a girl is like, "Miss Janice" agrees. After a few days of role-playing a girl, she sneakily hypnotized him to believe he actually IS a girl. Wearing an entire girl's wardrobe, Peter's female persona, Petra, has been taken to the salon for a makeover. While at the salon, a good number of otherwise unsuspecting customers had come in to witness the girl's transformation from tomboy to lovely lady. However, while getting made over to look more feminine, Peter was awakened from that trace. Those customers had already witnessed Petra saying and doing what a girl would say and do -- until she was tied down and had an oversized pacifier plugged into her mouth. Unable to leave or speak, Peter had little choice but simply go along for the ride. Continuing to play the part of Petra.

In the meantime, Petra was being fed a specially prepared meal in a very special way. And a lot was riding on whether she would finish it or not. Was this a reward or punishment? You decide.

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REMINDER: All characters are, and at all times know themselves to be, at least 18 years old.

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Natural Inclinations -- Part 8

By: Deana Bard

Chapter 29

53 minutes, 28 seconds.

The sound of a straw sucking more air than liquid from the bottom of the large bottle signaled to everyone that Petra had done it.

In less than an hour, she had swallowed a gallon's worth of semen. And the crowd went wild!

So much for just sampling the collection of youthful cum.

Curiosity had created a desire for taking at least one quick taste. Except, one taste led to another. That second taste begged for taking additional bigger tastes. Bigger tastes quickly become full-fledged gulps.

Peter was sunk. Every syrupy drop tasted so damned good. And yes, this batch was even better than the first. It was both thicker and had a more complex flavor. He was powerless to stop, joyously munching away on the pacifier, swallowing mouthful after mouthful of thick yet creamy, youthful semen.

The initial frustration over his plight had caused him to gnaw more forcefully on the pacifier. Bringing forth even more of the creamy cum into his mouth and down his throat. Dose after dose of mother nature's calming medication.

It was only after settling down that Peter accepted that what was done was done. This allowed his mind to drift. [God!] he thought. [I can't believe how much I love the taste and texture of cum. And this cum is even better than mine! Getting it delivered directly into my mouth is best of all.]

No one could see the blissful expression in his eyes. It would remain that way until Miss Gwen finally removed the blackened goggles. That's when everyone would instantly know just how much he was enjoying this creamy snack.

With his lips wrapped around something resembling a cock while sightless reminded him of when Miss Janice had blindfolded him. Peter vividly recalled the way he had feverishly sucked on "Hank" in a futile attempt to have the man ejaculate into his mouth. Unaware it was just a dildo. Now, every fresh squirt of sperm that he extracted from the pacifier sent thrilling chills up his spine. In a weird way, Peter was getting his wish.

Just then, he had another thought. [Boy, won't they be surprised when they find out that Peter had returned to take Petra's place. I can hardly wait to spring that news on them.]

He could already sense the embarrassment he will experience once everyone knows they have been watching a guy instead of a girl. A guy who had merrily gulped down the semen of other men. Picturing the expressions on everyone's face was, in itself, adding to the thrill and sending even more, chills crawling up his back. [Then the REAL humiliation can begin. I can't wait!]

However, as Petra continued to suck and swallow her way through her "lunch," she was told she should prepare herself for the big reveal. Peter sensed his chair being spun 180 degrees. Next, he felt fingers slipping between his temples and the ear loops of the goggles. In one swift motion, the goggles came off.

Well, Peter didn't need to use any of his acting skills for this part. After adjusting his eyes to the light, his reactions were honest and pure. Amazement at what he saw was genuine. And what he saw, he loved. Every little detail was pure perfection.

Any thoughts of revealing his true self to the world were immediately put aside. Falling into playing the part of Petra was instant and effortless. (So was suppressing any visible evidence of Peter.) She got to see for herself how the guy she had seen earlier this morning had been replaced by a very sweet-looking female smiling back at her.

Petra also got to see the ultra-sheer, nylon apron that had been draped over her and secured around her neck to catch the clippings. [No wonder it felt so light.] The transparency of the apron had hidden nothing. For close to an hour and a half, anyone curious to know what was going on in the back of the salon had plainly seen that she was topless except for a training bra.

Once the apron was carefully gathered and removed, it left the teenage beauty even more exposed, if this was even possible.

Now that the goggles were off, Petra was amazed by just how many people had squeezed into the back half of the salon. But no matter, she peacefully, although somewhat more aggressively, continued nursing on the pacifier. What little part of Peter that remained active was no longer the least bit bothered by all the spectators watching. It was far too late for that. He made up his mind that they were watching Petra, a girl. Not Peter, a guy. Petra could do whatever she wanted, and it would never come back on him.

Much earlier, for the sake of maintaining the salon's outward public and professional appearance, folding privacy screens had been strategically placed throughout the shop. Thus preventing the outside world from becoming aware of the goings-on in the rear of the salon. Other than the unusual number of "customers" entering with few leaving, everything seemed like a typical Friday morning.

Petra was too captivated by the loveliness in the mirror to care. A beautiful girl with her jaw forced wide open by an obscenely large pacifier.

It was the hose plugged into the mouthguard of that pacifier that, for a moment or two, distracted her attention away from staring at herself.

Ever so briefly, Peter became fixated on the length of a clear narrow hose. With each nursing motion of his mouth, a rhythmic flow of pearlescent fluid inched its way along towards the pacifier.

The other end of the hose had obviously been inserted inside the repurposed one-gallon jug. Only, Peter couldn't actually see the jug because it was under wraps. An electric heating pad had been carefully wrapped around it, keeping its contents nice and warm.

During this period of distraction, Petra's restraints were untied, freeing her to use her arms and legs once again. Had Peter chosen to, he could have taken the pacifier out of his mouth and bolted for the door. But he wasn't about to go anywhere before he finished draining the jug of scrumptious cum.

Although Peter was thoroughly enjoying the steady flow of semen, he was even more anxious to finish off the last of it, just to regain his ability to speak. Not to reveal that Petra was really a he. The heck with that! Straightening out those misconceptions could wait. Right now, the need to express sincere gratitude to Miss Gwen was all that was on his mind.

But, until he could finish "lunch," Peter's attention remained focused on studying the girl, or gurl, in the mirror. Subtle highlights had been added to her hair, accentuating her overall look. Casual bangs hung over her forehead. Soft curls hung down to just above her shoulders, one side was tucked behind her pierced ear showing off the stud inserted through her earlobe. It was capped with a delicate pink stone.

To Peter's eye, Petra now looked more like a young twenty-something. She sure looked more mature than most of the eighteen-year-old girls he knew. Peter couldn't help thinking to himself, [If only Petra had the breasts to match.]

Now, as we all know, all good things must come to an end. The hollow sucking sound announced that the tube had collected the last drops of cum it was able to. Bloated but satisfied, Peter marveled, [Hot damn! I did it! I actually swallowed every bit of that potent sperm.] Thinking about the innumerable young men who had made donations caused a fresh round of chills to pass through him. That didn't stop him from basking in the cheers and praise the onlookers were giving Petra for her accomplishment.

But now, the last of the cum was slithering down Petra's throat.

In just under one and a half hours, from the time the pacifier was first inserted until now, Petra had sucked down five whole quarts of cum. The donated sperm of enumerable males. This meant Peter's gut held billions and billions of eager little swimmers. Each one, busily searching for an egg to fertilize. Spermatozoids that, instead, would be put to an even better use. Their ultimate destination would be Peter's intestinal linings for absorption into his bloodstream. Both the sperm and the copious amounts of seminal fluid providing the nutritional proteins and the hormones every gurl's body requires.

(Kinda gives you chills, doesn't it?)

Peter smiled inwardly because the curious crowd was still unaware that what they had just observed was not the feat of a female. Instead, this performance was courtesy of an eighteen-year-old male. A guy who had been brought into the salon while under a hypnotic spell believing himself to actually being a girl. Only once that spell had been broken, it was Peter and not Petra who had pressed on with the perverse act. It was HE who had now consumed a total of five quarts of cum.

However, the person they all saw before them was lovely Petra. And now that SHE had drained the jug and the pacifier could be removed, it was time to get down to business and declare the winners of the two betting pools. [Hmm. I've fooled them this long. Perhaps I should wait just a bit longer to reveal my true self.]

As it turned out, only six people had placed their bets on Petra drinking the entire gallon. Unlike, seventeen others had bet against it. All of them believing that even for a proven cum slut like Petra, she would never be able to swallow the whole thing. After all, one gallon of heavy cream is an awful lot for anyone to drink in one sitting.

What none of them knew was that Petra had not had a single bite of solid food in almost two full days -- not since eating a fresh vegetable salad for lunch the day before last. Since then, other than taking several multi-vitamin pills, Petra (Peter) had primarily subsisted on just water and urine for hydration, plus cum for protein and other nutrients.

Even extra-thick semen hardly qualified as a semi-solid. No sooner had it slithered down Peter's esophagus and into his stomach, the cum was able to continue flowing steadily into the rest of the otherwise empty digestive tract. At that very moment, Peter's body had already begun processing that semen. Every single ounce would ultimately be completely absorbed for nourishment while producing zero waste.

A subject not touched upon up till now is Peter's bowel movements. Naturally, the roughage of that salad loosened things up quite a bit. But even before that lunchtime repast, there were other things at work. Like the dusting of powdered laxative, Janice had garnished his pizza with a day earlier. Then, beginning that same day, there was an almost steady intake of urine. All combined, over the past four days, his lower digestive tract had become all but totally cleaned out.

A byproduct of the steady regimen of exercise and the cleansing of the gut had also promoted the rapid slimming of the waistline -- something Peter/Petra was most proud of achieving. And after consuming a total of five quarts of cum, any pangs of hunger that may have existed when he walked into the salon were now effectively quelled.

Once the pacifier was no longer an obstacle, Petra could smile again. Ignoring her sore jaw muscles, smile she did -- BROADLY! She couldn't help smiling at the perfect image of loveliness that reflected back in the mirror. Seeing what the talented women had created left her in absolute awe.

Oh wow! She even had perfectly shaped fingernails. And they had been painted a shade of pink that matched her shorts and her earrings.

The brouhaha caused by her consuming the entire jug of semen only added to Petra's delight.

With a glint in Petra's eyes, everyone watched as she smacked and licked her lips. Much to Peter's relief, they sure seemed to be buying his performance. Not one person seemed to doubt that Petra wasn't really a girl. Caught up in the high-spirited atmosphere, Petra patted her bare tummy and finally spoke, "Good to the last drop." This just about brought the house down with laughter.

Surrounded by women (and at least a couple men) of all ages, Petra made no effort to remove herself from the scene of her humiliation.

Nope. Instead, she maintained a smiling, cheery, outgoing disposition. Thoroughly enjoying the excitement she and her depraved act had created.

Of course, what the crowd was most interested in was who would win the money that had been bet.

As previously stated, seventeen had bet against Petra drinking the entire gallon. Amid the festive vibe in the salon, Petra found herself helpless but to continue entertaining. "To all those doubters; Now you know. You should never bet against a cum slut." Another raucous round of laughter filled the room.

At five dollars a pop, the total pot from all tickets sold for the 'Will She or Won't She' challenge resulted in $115 being split among the six winners who had bet correctly.

Next was the moment everyone was most anxious to hear the results of. To see who the one winner of the second pot of bets would be. This raffle was based on the time -- from the first cum drawn from the second, much larger vessel until the pacifier was removed from Petra's mouth.

A few participants had bought just one ticket to put their guess on. But, the vast majority opted to purchase several tickets. By writing a different time on each of their tickets, it would increase their odds of winning.

With so many tickets being sold for the timed challenge, an additional rule was agreed upon. To win, the time written on the ticket had to be within 15 minutes of the called time, WITHOUT GOING OVER! It was up to the individual to decide how long it would take Petra to finish drinking all of the semen. Or if she would quit early by refusing to drink anymore, and how quickly that might happen.

Well, with so many betting against Petra ever coming close to finishing (with guesses of anywhere from 15 seconds to 25 minutes), all of those tickets, and the folks holding them, were out of contention. Still, that didn't seem to dampen spirits much.

Well, guess what? Of all the optimistic guesses Petra could swallow it all, the closest thought it would take her over one hour. Not one person's guess was even close without going over. So, NO WINNER!

It was Petra herself who came up with a solution for awarding the giant pot of cash. "Let's have a drawing. I'll draw one lucky winner from all the tickets." Everyone readily agreed. Pens and pencils were passed around so names could be put on the back of the holder's ticket(s). Then the tickets were collected and dropped into an empty box retrieved from the backroom.

Because so many women (and likely a husband or two) had opted to buy multiple tickets, the overall cash prize had been pushed much higher. $345 was up for grabs.

Petra was just as giddy with excitement as the rest, joking that, "Gee. If only someone had gone out on the street to get more players involved?" This generated a good deal of chatter. Then Petra added, "Imagine how big the prize would have been if the DONORS had been made to pay...." Pausing, she raised her hand until it was hovering over her head, "... for the privilege of feeding Miss Gwen's 'PROJECT'?" This really got her audience laughing and chattering like never before.

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Chapter 30

Having fun while being the center of attention was so unlike Peter. It's not like he was still under any hypnotic spells to make him think he was someone else.

The snapping of the piercing gun and accompanying pain as it inserted the earrings had brought him back to reality, helping him regain awareness of his true self. It also afforded him complete control over his actions.

So why was Peter still acting and speaking like Petra? Going so far as cracking self-deprecating jokes to keep the illusion of this Petra character in the spotlight. The pacifier may have prevented him from speaking up earlier. But as soon as he had regained the use of his voice, he could have easily spoken up for himself.

So what's stopping him now? Why hasn't he said anything to straighten things out? How come Peter is still going all-in on pretending to be Petra?

The answer boils down to one simple fact. But we'll get to that in a minute. First, we need to back up some.

For close to an hour, while Peter was merrily eating glob after glob of cum, he overheard a lot of various conversations. The inability to see or speak for the majority of that time had heightened his awareness of the things being said by others. Of all the little side remarks being made, many were coded phrases that, no doubt, would have sailed right by Petra.

But for the newly awakened Peter, those comments were received and decoded loud and clear. Each fragment of dialog prompted sparks of memories to resurface. In particular, instructions planted deep into his subconsciousness were suddenly being decoded by his conscious brain. Thoughts and actions that Miss Janice had inserted while under hypnosis were becoming known to him. Things that a professional hypnotist could have prevented from ever crossing over to conscious thought.

However, one conversation, in particular, that Peter overheard contained no hidden or coded dialog. And it took place right there next to his chair.

It was pretty early on while much of the betting was still taking place. A woman who had only recently arrived asked Miss Gwen if she could ask about what was going on. Clearly, the girl nursing on the pacifier was swallowing some strange liquid flowing through the hose. But what and why?

While continuing to trim Petra's hair, and without reservation, Peter heard Miss Gwen tell the woman what her son had brought in, to which the woman interrupted, "Your SON? He brought WHAT?"

Miss Gwen confidently answered both questions by showing the woman the large jug of semen. That caused the woman to strongly express her doubt about the validity of her story. "There is no possible way that can be filled with what you say."

Gwen chuckled. "I know, at first it seems unlikely. But my son is very persuasive. He and his teammates all got together this morning. And after, somewhere in the neighborhood of 45, maybe 50 donations, well, this is the result. Minus what our thirsty lass has already swallowed."