Neural Network Trap Ch. 02

"There isn't any diagnosis I can put down, so I've left things vague saying that at this stage the condition and causes are indeterminant, and the need for rest and further medical workup..." Dr. Pressley trailed off.

I'm sure she had turned to find me hard at work. I didn't care. All that mattered was the taste of her pussy on my wife's cock.

"That works fine," Alyssa said, answering for me as she lovingly stroked by cheek.

"Do you need a note as well?" Dr. Pressley asked after a long pause.

"Wouldn't hurt to have one just in case. But what I'm more interested in is your number. Unless you'd rather me schedule an office appointment the next time I want to fuck you?"

I should have been raging or depressed. My wife had just fucked someone else. It shouldn't matter that it was a woman. And now she was making arrangements to do it again. Right in front of me. While I sucked her cock.

I did the only thing that came to mind, though I was far past coherent thought: I swallowed half her cock and started sucking like my life depended on it. Probably psychologists would pick apart my behavior, tell me that I felt threatened by Dr. Pressley and was demonstrating my sexual value. But right now, in this moment, nothing mattered except that cock.

"Here. Two notes," Dr. Pressley said, "and my number."

"Sorry about the panties." Alyssa, even though she was enjoying my mouth, motioned to get up. "And the blouse and bra."

"Worth it for that fuck," Dr. Pressley said. "What you should really be apologizing for is cumming in me."

"I warned you. You're the one that didn't pull away." Alyssa sighed and precum gushed down my throat.

"Yeah..." Dr. Pressley sounded blissful. "I've got that baby fever."

"Are you on--"

"Nope. Been trying with the hubby for a year now," Dr. Pressley said without a hint of shame. "Maybe this time will take."

I think it was Dr. Pressley's confession more than anything else that toppled Alyssa into another climax, a fresh flood of cum for my wife's depraved cumslut to gobble down.

I didn't realize I was moaning until Alyssa pushed me off her cock, grinning.

"Babe, save some for later."

She dressed without shame, basking in the wrecked MILF she'd just possibly impregnated, and the horny spouse she'd just cheated on.

Dr. Pressley was eyeing me. For what, I never found out. Her phone rang. Still sweaty and dripping cum, she picked it up. "Hey, honey. Yeah. Soon. Had a late walk-in that needed special attention." As her husband talked, she blew a kiss to Alyssa, snagged her discarded pants, then walked from the room.

My wife dressed as if nothing unusual had happened. "I'd ask if you were okay with what just happened, but..." She smirked at my erection, small but just large enough to have caught the hem of the paper gown. "You going to wear that home?"

I squeaked when she swatted my butt, then rushed to dress before I got left behind.

***

After everything that went on in Dr. Beth Pressley's office, I thought we would go home. I needed to cum. Being teased and denied was not a new part of the dynamic with my wife. She'd always enjoyed working me up, something I had grown more comfortable with the longer we were together.

But she'd never taken it as far as she had since our transformations. At least, that's how it felt. Maybe I was just hornier than I had been. I was swallowing her cum multiple times per day. My orgasms, if I had them at all, were accidents that delighted Alyssa.

Just thinking about how I'd shamefully stood by while my wife fucked an old crush of mine had me lost in a fog of lust. The only thing I cared about was cumming. I only noticed we were not going home when Alyssa made a sharp turn into a parking lot.

"Why are we at the mall?" I asked.

"I need new clothes. You might fit into most of my old stuff, but I've got about three things that I can wear that aren't sweatpants."

"But I need to cum," I whined.

"I can tell." She pulled into a parking spot. "It's cute when you squirm."

Before I could respond, she was out of the car. I started to follow but realized what it would mean. Sneaking into a doctor's office after it closed was one thing, strolling around a mall was another.

"Alyssa," I hissed, "I can't go in there!"

"Why not?"

"Because..." I looked around to see if anyone was nearby. Late in the evening on a weekday, the parking lot was empty. "You know why."

"If you're worried because of how horny you are, consider that the only way you are cumming tonight is if you come with me."

"What?" I asked to her back, but she was already walking away. I hesitated. The slam of a nearby car door spurred me into action. As scary as walking into the mall was, being alone was worse. I raced to catch up.

"I knew you'd make the right choice." Beneath Alyssa's sweatpants, her monster swung back and forth. It was obvious. She did not seem bothered by it.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked. I had to scurry to keep up with her longer stride.

She stopped so suddenly I walked several steps on my own. "Do you trust me?"

I frowned.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes. Of course, but what does--"

"Then let go," Alyssa said. "I know you're having fun. But you could be having more. We'll figure this out, but until we fix things, let go. Let me lead you. I promise you won't regret it."

My body vibrated. I was a jumble of springs shoved into a box and ready to explode. I had every reason to worry and fret. But I had Alyssa. Neither of us were facing this alone.

"Okay," I whispered. I took a deep breath and willed myself to relax. If only it was that easy.

Alyssa smiled warmly then took my hand. "Just remember, fake it long enough and it won't be faking anymore. Come on, let's see if we can find some panties that will contain my lady-cock."

***

"What if we have to pay it back?" I asked as Alyssa collected the evening's second cash withdrawal. We'd each withdrawn the maximum from our new accounts. It was the most cash I'd ever seen.

"With what's happened to us, we'll sue anyone that comes after the money back into the stone age. Now stop worrying and pick: outfits first, or do you want to go straight to panties?"

I gulped. Alyssa was wearing one of my old, male t-shirts. On me it had been comfortable. On her it was tight. Though still slim, she was more muscular than I had been. And she had boobs. Big ones that strained the shirt and did not come close to fitting in any of her old bras.

"Panties," I said, then rushed to justify it as more than horniness. "You'll need some to try on other clothes, right?"

"Good save. Come on. I think you'll find this less exciting than expected."

A prediction that was true. I'd been shopping with her many times before. The experience varied with her mood, and today Alyssa tore into the lingerie shop with militant intent. I'd barely had a chance to orient myself before she was piling panties and bras in every conceivable style and multiple sizes into my arms, then dragging me to a dressing room. The single bored clerk, still behind the counter, did not look up from her phone.

If I thought the privacy of the dressing room would lead to some fun, I was sorely mistaken. Alyssa was naked in a flash, her cock soft for once. She started with bras, cursed when she discovered she'd underestimated her cup size, then sent me out for more.

I managed without having to ask for help. When I returned, Alyssa was topless in a high-cut thong with straps that sat up over her hips. The thin material split her round, firm ass. She was spectacular. In my own panties, my cock struggled to escape.

"Well this won't work," Alyssa said, turning. While the back was the picture of perfection, the front was so thin that it would struggle to hide even labia. It had no chance against Alyssa's cock, which dangled completely uncovered. The thong crotch was wedged to one side.

"It does kind of work," I said at last, unable to look away.

Alyssa, still looking skeptical, turned back to the mirror. She rotated one way then another, swinging the object of my fixation from side to side. Grinning slyly, she watched me stare in the mirror.

"First one for the keep pile," Alyssa said at last, bending to slide the thong down her legs.

From there, she was more selective. Panties were not designed for penises, especially one as large as hers. While she had always worn a wide variety of styles, the most daring ones were now little more than functionless decoration. Not that she was without options that lacked appeal. Fabric was not unlimited, so the presence of her cock pulled everything between her cheeks.

Bras were next. I had never considered myself a boob man, but I reconsidered that when presented with Alyssa's enhanced bust pressed even fuller by pushup bras.

But Alyssa had something else she wanted me to consider. "Instead of staring, you should find your size. Mine might fit okay, but better to get the right size. Trust me." She eyed me up and down. "Start with a 28-C, 30-B, and 32-A and see what feels best."

There was nothing erotic about shopping for bras. I quickly discovered the frustrating ambiguity of band and cup sizes that varied between styles even of the same brand, much to Alyssa's amusement. Based off a man's view of tits, I never would have guessed that I was a C cup, but that's the one that Alyssa picked out for me, explaining that it had as much to do with the ratio as absolute size.

Once we had our new sizes down, she led me back into the store. I expected her to take charge, but she left me with instructions to stock up with a reminder that my panty size was XS. I floundered as she started ransacking drawers for her own needs.

When she found me, I held a collection of bras and panties about a quarter the size of the pile in her arms. I had wandered from the drawers of everyday panties to a corner with lingerie-clad mannequins surrounded by hangers of lace and silk. Right in front of me was a shapely plastic figure with a strappy black lace thong and matching bra. Neither pretended to hide anything or provide meaningful support.

Dumping her items into my arms, she searched the hangers until she found two sets of the lingerie, one in each of our sizes.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"A girl needs clothes that make her feel sexy," Alyssa explained. "Things for the bedroom. Dates. To stand out at parties and clubs."

"I don't!"

"Trust me," Alyssa said, putting an end to any argument.

I couldn't help but notice that as she carefully picked through the lingerie she only selected matching sets. With everything that had happened today, this little signal that the two of us were in this together melted my heart. I felt like a spoiled puppy following her around. The change in my mood did not escape her notice, and she started to narrate her thought process for why certain items made the cut and others did not.

It was about this time that the bored clerk took notice of us, probably because she smelled a juicy commission. "Can I help you two with anything?"

Alyssa considered the pile that nearly buried me. "We're ready to check out."

As the clerk rang us up, Alyssa leaned against the counter and took my hand. "Not so bad, right?"

"No," I admitted.

She checked the time on her phone. "Two hours. You okay with a late dinner? There are a few stores I want to..."

She trailed off, eyes locked on a sign opposite and a few stores down. I followed her gaze and felt a bundle of anxiety gather in my chest.

Alyssa turned back to the clerk, who was less than a quarter of the way through the pile. She scanned each item, then took the time to fold it. Lingerie got a thin paper wrap. "Do you think we could run a quick errand while you finish totaling this up?"

"Of course," the clerk said brightly. With the size of this purchase, I'm sure she would have agreed to anything.

"Great, we shouldn't be long," Alyssa called back, already dragging me from the store.

***

From overtop a circular rack of dressed, Alyssa caught my eye. "How do they feel?"

"Aches," I said, resisting the impulse to touch my freshly pierced earlobes. "Not as bad as I thought it would be."

"It'll be worth it. Once those heal, I'll get you jewelry."

I wasn't sure how I felt about that, or having my ears pierced. It had happened fast. I'd barely processed what she wanted when a mid-40s woman slapped the consent form down in front of me and asked which studs I wanted to wear out. We'd made it back to the lingerie store with time to spare.

We were now at the third clothing store, so laden with bags that the cute clerk had offered to store them behind the counter while we shopped. At the first clothing store, Alyssa had bought herself jeans, joggers, jackets, skirts, shorts, dresses, and shirts, all casual and in more styles than I knew existed. The second shop had refreshed clothes more appropriate for work.

For the final stop of the evening, Alyssa had dragged me to a store filled with slinky dresses, skirts that gave new meaning to the idea of mini, and tops that would need tape and a prayer to keep in place.

Alyssa held up a little black dress against her body. "What do you think?"

"That spending $450 for a single dress is a sign of mental illness."

"We're having a sale," a voice said behind me. "We take off 25% at the register, and dresses are buy two get an additional 15% off a third." The cute clerk, about our age, smiled from just a few feet away. At least part Asian, she had dark hair pulled into a messy bun, impeccable makeup, and warm brown eyes. "Not to pressure you, but it's a good sale. Today is the last day, and since it was slow, I took down the signs so I could leave sooner after closing."

"Music to my ears," Alyssa said, already surveying the store with predatory eyes.

"If you'd like a recommendation?" the clerk asked. "You have incredible definition and long legs. Something thin and clingy would show off all that work in the gym. Ankle length but with high slits would create a dramatic look, if you're looking for something more formal."

"I'm looking for everything..." Alyssa gestured at the clerk.

"Taylor. I'd be happy to help!" Taylor turned to me. "And anything for you? Is there an event the two of you will be attending?"

"This stuff isn't my style," I said.

"Find her something slutty," Alyssa countered. "Trying to break her out of her shell."

Taylor grinned. "I've got a few ideas. Hand me what you've got now. I'll get you set up in back. One dressing room, or two?"

"One," Alyssa answered. "And we'll want your opinion."

I stared daggers at Alyssa, but she acted as if she didn't see me. I pretended to browse, intent on getting through this as quickly as possible. But Alyssa picked up the slack and when we made our way to the back Taylor had already filled every available hanger and stood eagerly waiting to see what we thought.

"We have less than thirty minutes before closing," I said, looking for a way out.

"Ten actually," Taylor said. "But don't worry about it. If you two are buying, I'll stay late to earn the commission." She pointed at two hangers. "Those are my top choices but start with whatever you want. I'll go lockup."

I eyed the dozen or so dresses in my size with a mix of fear and curiosity. Alyssa pulled up the hem of her shirt.

"Alyssa!" I snapped the curtain closed. "What if she saw?"

"What if?" Her boobs bounced out of her shirt as she pulled it over her head. Sweats came down next, and out flopped her cock. "Worried she might want a taste of me?"

"No," I said too quickly, trying not to picture Taylor bouncing on my wife's dick.

"She's cute, right?" Alyssa turned her back and considered her options. "You always had a thing for Asian chicks."

"I do not!"

"Wonder if she likes her dicks big or small..."

To put a stop to her teasing, I went to the hangers of clothing intended for me. They were expensive. The cheapest item was a silky, backless top that was $115 before discounts.

It was not the price that gave me pause. Alyssa had put me in her old clothes right after my transformation. I'd had a few days to get used to panties and small tops and low-slung pants. But so far everything I'd worn, with the exception of panties, was the feminine equivalent of what I normally wore. Jeans. Sweats and joggers. T-shirts. Cute but nothing more. These dresses and skirts were another step down a road I couldn't seem to stop walking.

"Try it on," Alyssa suggested.

I realized I was staring at a red dress. The top was lacey, but I couldn't see the details from the way it hung. The skirt was long and drapey without form on the hanger.

"Here, I'll help."

Alyssa's touch was soft, but it still made me jump. Like was happening more and more, I passively let my wife take charge. I told myself it was because I trusted her, and I did, but deep down I wondered if surrendering meant I could lie to myself about wanting this.

"Wait, not those," I said when her fingers hook the waistband of my panties. A light scratch of her nails caused me to tremor.

"So now you want to wear them?" Her breath tickled my ear. "That isn't the sort of dress you wear anything under."

"It's not?"

Alyssa chucked. "You have a lot to learn. Here."

She moved around my front, and I gasped. She was in a tight navy-blue number that went to mid-thigh with a scoop neck that appeared on the verge of sliding all the way off her breasts.

"You're beautiful," I said dumbly.

"You too," Alyssa said, blushing with satisfaction at the affirmation. I had been so wrapped up in my own changes that I hadn't given much thought to how Alyssa was feeling as long as she let me suck her cock.

"You are. More than ever. I'm lucky to have you."

Her blush deepened. "Thank you. But stop making me love you so much or I'll never fit in these dresses and we'll really find out what Taylor thinks about big dicks."

Looking down, I could see evidence that my attention had inspired more than blushing. A rush of satisfaction had me grinning impishly. Although Alyssa had taken charge, I realized that I was not powerless. In fact, she was a slave to her cock, which meant I could turn the tables on her.

I took the opportunity to tease Alyssa, playing dumb, forcing her to help with every step of getting the red dress on while brushing against her. In truth I needed her help with the top. It was made entirely of lace, had no back to speak of, and was kept up by a lace collar that fastened behind my neck.

"Hailey..." Alyssa gasped when she stepped back. "You gorgeous bitch."

I didn't know how to respond. I didn't recognize the woman in the reflection, even as my sister. A starlet looked back, someone that walked red carpets on the arm of older men with more money than sense.

I turned to the side. The skirt was floor length, which meant without high heels it had pooled on the ground. But there were slits up each side to the crest of my hips that proved Alyssa was right about wearing underwear with this dress.

"How are you ladies doing?" Taylor asked.

Alyssa whipped back the curtain. "Can you believe Hailey didn't want to try this on?"

I don't know what reaction I expected, but the high-pitched squeal that Taylor let out was not it.

"Sorry," she said. "Not very professional, but I don't think I've ever seen a dress fit someone so well off the rack. That was made for you!"

"We'll take it," Alyssa said. "But I want to see it in heels. Do you sell any here?"

Taylor winced. "We do, but they're not on sale, and we only care a few brands like Louboutin."

Alyssa looked as if she'd caught Santa dropping off presents. She dug around in her purse then pulled out her new bank card. "You take debit?"

"Yes?" Taylor had been having fun, but I could see the gears starting to turn.