The Usual Protocol

In the year of 2044, the landscape of Earth's many satellites had significantly expanded from the low thousands to well over ten thousand in number, among them living an international assortment of astronauts assigned to various jobs and duties. For Dean and Jay, two lone men on a six-month observational trip in a far corner of the atmosphere, their mission was largely overlooked in favor of far more groundbreaking scientific work up in the sky, but neither of them were particularly displeased. On a day that almost appeared insignificant at the start, the men were performing their scheduled health checkups upon one another. Dean, the smaller of the two men with a thin, if somewhat average frame and body, came out with a clean bill of health. Jay, on the other hand, the larger and more muscled of the two, had a slight hiccup:

"Your testosterone levels are too high," Dean explained to him with a furrowed brow. Jay got up from the padded medical bed and walked to where Dean was looking at a computer screen, noting the singular red line that indicated his levels were not in the correct bracket. "Have you been noticing any changes in your health?" Jay shook his head.

"No, not any, but I..." he started, but trailed off, realizing the conversation was falling into weird territory. For what it was worth, Dean was fairly curt at times and didn't value decorum."

"You what?" He prodded, and Jay sighed and sidled back onto the bad.

"I've been sort of... frustrated recently. Sexually frustrated. I'm not so used to going so long without a girl to, you know, set things back in order."

"You live a privileged life, Jay," Dean said dryly, dropping out of his professional concern. "The rest of the human population can get well on with just themselves these days, crazy as that may sound."

"Sue me," Jay teased. "It's not the same—the payoff is way lower, and it's not nearly as satisfying. You know I'm right. So is there a pill I can take? A remedy we have on the ship?" Dean looked back at the computer and typed something in, then read a bit, and typed again.

"It looks like excessive testosterone levels at your age is actually pretty uncommon. We have an assortment of possible medications that can supplement low levels, but none that remedy the reverse. Except, wait..."

"What?" Jay asked, frustrated with how long Dean was taking with his answer.

"It says here that our ship is designed with a practical protocol, except it's... wow. Okay. That's weird," Dean commented. Jay sighed again, this time much more exasperated, and picked himself off the medical bed again. Learning everything through Dean was testing his patience.

"Kinky," Jay chided while reading out loud over Dean's shoulder. "In the rare case of dangerously high testosterone levels, with consent from a second party, a medical-grade suit may be worn in order to encourage and... alleviate stimulation for the ailed individual. That very much seems like a conflict of interest."

"Yeah, it does... huh. Oh—donning the suit provides 100% protection of contact between parties and is thus permissible under International Space Statute 42.4. So they covered all their bases." There was a significant pause while both of them took a moment to think.

"You don't have to do it, dude," Jay relented, but Dean was dedicated to his work more than anything, and he knew—

"Jay, if we don't remedy your issue within a week of observing it, we'll be brought back down to earth. Four months early, and with no substantial research to back us up. We'd be fired on the spot for wasting their time and money."

"So you're saying?" Jay asked, surprised about the change of events. The thought of actual stimulation beyond what little he could remember of porn was intriguing, and the only actual reason he'd said no was because he didn't want to make Dean uncomfortable. But this...

"Well, it means I'll do it," Dean explained matter-of-factly. He read a short code at the bottom of the diagnosis screen and got up from his seat in front of the computer. With Jay curiously in tow, Dean headed to the opposite side of the room and entered the short code into a keypad along the wall where the various medications were stored. The inner mechanics sprung to life and two metallic-sounding arms jolted around inside, grabbing the package with the suit in question and bringing it to the front. From a small slot in the wall, a finely pressed packaged was spit out into Dean's hands.

"You do realize what this means, right? If I'm to be... 'stimulated' by whatever this is, it means you're probably not gonna look like yourself, because I am not attracted to dudes," Jay continued on, giving Dean every chance to back out.

"Well, I'm not attracted to dudes either, plus I won't actually be a girl. In the long run, it's no harm, no foul, and I'm sure you'd do the same for me if the roles were switched."

Jay didn't say so, but Dean was entirely wrong. Jay wouldn't compromise his physique for anything, even if only temporarily. Best not to mention that small betrayal. The quiet guilt took him over for a moment as Dean pulled apart the plastic package, but he became alert again when Dean stretched apart a very large, loose full-body suit. It was a shiny silver color with attached feet, hands, even a covered hood, and when Jay reached forward to touch it, he felt a very substantial, unforgiving spandex material slide between his fingers.

"So when are we going to do this?" Jay asked, and Dean looked at him like it was obvious.

"Well, now, obviously."

"Now? Seriously?"

"What else do we have to do right now? The entire day's been allotted to remedy potential health issues. We're doing exactly that, aren't we?"

"I suppose so."

"So, let's see here," Dean muttered to himself now, looking at what appeared to be the back of the suit—a simple vertical cut along the suit's spine must've been the point of entry. Dean walked back to the computer and clicked on a link to the suit's instructions and general manual. "Second party must be nude before wearing the suit... hm. Jay, you'll have to turn around for a moment," Dean instructed, and without question, Jay turned around.

Dean stared into the mouth of the suit with both interest and concern. No, of course he didn't want to do this for Jay, but unlike Jay, who so easily worked his way up to the job of astronaut within six months, Dean had spent years of study and hard work to get to this point, and risking it all because his coworker wasn't willing to get handsy with himself was a definite impossibility. Sighing at the thought, Dean began stripping and Jay whistled casually in the interim.

Now naked, Dean picked up the suit by shoulders and very easily slid his feet into the legs, working the material up to his hips and further. The suit was very, very loose for his body, as if made for a man three-times his size, but Dean trusted the technology would work somehow. Then came donning the sleeves and the oversized gloves, and soon Dean was all but covered save for his head and the opening at his back. He stepped over to the bed and rotate the computer monitor to face him. The suit was so loose that he couldn't manager to grab the hood without the torso falling off his body.

"Jay, I need your help. You can look now," he said, and Jay turned to find the exposed Dean with a curious expression. Though the lithe man didn't know, the top of his ass peeked out from the suit's opening. Jay smirked and walked over. "I can't get the hood over my head, and I'm not sure—I'm not sure how to close it or make it fit."

"Let me see," Jay said, and with Dean's back to him, Jay reached around and ceremoniously pulled the hood on, situating it over Dean's skull and turning his attention to the opening. "I'm not sure what I'm meant to do..." he trailed off, but as he hopelessly tried attaching the two sides of the opening together without any zipper or magnet in sight, they effectively clung to each other and melded. Any semblance of a seam all but disappeared, and in that moment, he thought he heard Dean gasp.

It was like all the air was getting suctioned out of the loose suit. The silver spandex became constricting, quickly consolidating all of its excess material and tightening on his thin body until every loose fold disappeared. And where the two men thought this process was complete, the suit proceeded to become even tighter, removing every blip and trace of a wrinkle, even the smallest one, on Dean's body. For all intents and purposes, his identity had been completely removed and replaced with silver skin, firm and taut and free of blemishes.

"Woah," Jay said, because Dean was at a loss for words. He didn't want to mention it because he didn't want to be misconstrued, but the material felt good, it felt soft and silky, and it perfectly hugged every part of his body with enticing sensation. Two things he noticed at once were, one, he could see perfectly fine, as if the spandex wasn't even covering his eyes, and two, his cock and balls were very noticeably imprinted underneath the stretch of fabric. Without turning to face Jay, Dean covered his crotch with his hands in embarrassment.

"Should've expected this..." he muttered to himself, knowing that he'd jumped into Jay's remedy quite fast. In the meanwhile, Jay was noticing some barely-noticeably white marks along Dean's spine where the seam used to be. One was an X, and below it, vertically, an up and a down arrow.

"What are these?" Jay asked, and poked the up arrow without even thinking about it. It was touch sensitive! Oops. He hoped that didn't do anything, but Dean immediately bent over with a shocked gasp in response—accidentally thrusting his ass into Jay's pelvis in the process, where he wore only a thin pair of cotton shorts for his check-up. Something was happening inside Dean, specifically on his cock and balls. He could feel it in his hands, but also right in his crotch, like some inner mechanics were moving things around. A pop, and then a second pop, and when the disturbing, intrusive sensation were over, he removed his hands to see he was completely flat down there.

He was a nullo. He was a ken doll. He was featureless and instantaneously androgynous. Whatever sense of bodily shame he harbored was immediately thrown out the window when, in shock, he turned around and exposed himself full-frontal to Jay's awaiting eyes. Dean's incredulous and somewhat panicked expression was completely lost in the transaction and Jay only saw what there was: a silver spandex body, weirdly erotic in its own right.

"What did you do, dude?!" Dean managed.

"I- I'm sorry!" Jay apologized. "Did you read all of the suit's instructions?"

"I thought so," Dean responded, and forced himself to take a breath, cover his exposed parts—or lack thereof—and consult the computer screen. He scrolled down to notice, of course, that there was more information at hand. "This suit, it apparently has levels. Level 0 was putting on the suit. Jay, you pressed a button, right? I think you put me at Level 1."

"And that is...?" Jay trailed off, and while Dean was transfixed on the screen, Jay broke the gap between them and ambled up behind Dean, looking over his shoulder at the screen. Dean read aloud:

"The Level system allows for the two parties at hand to negotiate their level of comfortability with the rarely-employed testosterone protocol. Level 0 entails donning the proper suit and initiating the fitting. Level 1 promotes androgynization and releases artificial feminine pheromones to encourage stimulation for the patient... Jay, I don't know think I like where this is headed," Dean admitted worriedly, and stood up straight, throwing one arm behind his back. Jay had to back up quickly to avoid being hit. In a panic, Dean thought he could hit the down arrow, or perhaps the X button to loosen the suit entirely, but ended up doing the exact opposite.

In his panic, he hit the up arrow once more, and continued on to Level 2. If initiating Level 1 made him grab the medical bed and lean over, Level 2 sent him even lower, to a full right-angle with his ass sticking out. The usual gasp lasted longer and was far deeper than before, and what was originally just a moving-around of sexual parts underneath the suit became even more complicated. A sensation entered him deep in his body, and as it occurred, Jay could only read on about the consequences.

"Entering Level 2 entails a temporary remodeling of the second party's bodily plumbing to allow hyper-efficient waste expulsion (via a singular urethral tube in the front) so the patient may engage in extended stimulation. Additionally, Level 2 indicates the second party has consented to the installation of an anal sheath for a potential sexual encounter, as made permissible by the stipulations of International Space Statute 42.4. Dean, are you...?"

Just as Jay began the question, Dean felt a hard, initially cold sensation invade his ass, becoming more pliable as it entered him deeper and deeper. The sheath was creating a hole that was not only to provide the perfect fuck, but a more-than-perfect fuck, wet and smooth and doll-like in sensation. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, and as it penetrated to the furthest point, Dean felt a deep, troublesome pleasure in his very core.

"I- I don't know," Dean responded breathily, already knowing what the question had been. As he unbent from over the bed, it was then he felt a hand thoughtlessly grope his right ass cheek. "Jay, what are you doing?"

"Relax I'm not going to do anything. I'm just curious," he explained.

"Curious about what? Jay," Dean began. But Jay was becoming transfixed, and bent down so that he was ass-level with Dean. He put both hands now on Dean's butt cheeks—were they growing, or was that just him>—and tenderly spread them apart, witnessing with new interest the tight, wet spandex hole that evidently waited for him to fuck. And even if Dean wasn't entirely ready, his body was, and unconsciously Jay brought his hand forward and began fingering him. "Jay! Jay, I- you're not- I-" he tried to say, but the sheath had enhanced the sensations of his own body, and the silky-smooth feeling travelled with every touch and multiplied it. He was on a ride whether he liked it or not. "Jay, you can't just-"

"Please, Dean, just relax. It's only for a little while. Plus, no harm, no foul, right?" he asked smoothly, and with that he pulled his fingers back out and stood up straight. Despite his objections, the fact that Jay removed his fingers felt wrong to Dean, like he'd become empty in the afterward. In place of that, Jay pressed his hard, muscular body into Dean's backside, Jay's warmth radiating into him, and his entire back now covered in silky sensations. Everything that touched Dean only added to the wonderful feeling, and with Jay's barely-concealed cock now resting insistently in the valley of Dean's ass, he felt it had gone on long enough.

"Jay, you have to turn this off, or even just press the down arrow. Jay, please," he pleaded, and Jay didn't skip a beat.

"Okay," he said in a smooth whisper, and brought his hand up to press a button. "But what if we just—" he began, and instead of turning it off, selfishly pressed the up arrow instead.

The effects were immediate. Whereas the last few levels made him androgynous, Level 3 favored the feminine. Dean, with heightened shock and a new, intense sensation, bent over the bed again with shock and rising ecstasy. Jay squeezed each of Dean's ass cheeks in his hand and let his rock-hard cock curiously press into the opening hole with the thin cotton layer still unfortunately between, and as he did so, Dean's ass expanded, widened, became bubble-like.

"Hell yeah, that's just how daddy likes it," Jay muttered to himself with satisfaction, watching his hands sink into the soft, pliable spandex flesh. He could see from Dean's bent-over form how his waist shrunk, how the width of his shoulders pulled in just slightly, how his arms thinned. Just out of sight, he knew Dean must've been developing breasts, but he was more entranced with something else: he needed to fuck her, badly. He first pulled off the thin cotton shirt and furiously removed his cotton shorts right after, and right as he was about to penetrate that sweet wet spandex hole, he paused and wondered if anything else had changed. Holding Dean down against the bed, he prodded the touch screen computer and read the details for Level 3.

"By initiating Level 3, the second party (the suit-wearer) has consented to completely bypassing bodily waste in favor of stimulating the patient for an extended period, and will begin feminization of the body via breasts, buttocks, waist, legs, feet, etc. You hear that? There's nothing stopping me from keeping you like this. You can't even figure how to turn it off yourself." He wanted to laugh, but that felt a tad too cruel, and instead he felt his prick touch the edge of his hole. His eyes briefly rolled in the back of his head and he couldn't help it, he had to know what it felt like, and in one fell, slick swoop, he penetrated her.

She was tight and wet, smooth and silky all at once. She obviously like it too, her voice—no longer the average male timbre Jay had grown used to in the space station—moaning with both ecstasy and resentment. Dean wanted to pull away from him, he knew he still had the strength to do so, but their position was compromising, and Dean felt concerningly whole. Still taking it slow, every time Jay pulled out his cock, it was like Dean was missing something. Then he'd slide it effortlessly back in, curse under his breath about how tight Dean was, it felt... right. But it was all wrong! Jay fully leaned over Dean's body in a curl and wrapped his arms around Dean's front, groping his newfound breasts.

The new feeling had evaded him up to that point, and the most concerning fact about his new tits was that they felt apart of him, not some accessory. No, Dean had developed a new, significant erogenous zone along with expanding areolas and perky size-C tits. Sated with Dean's new body, Jay stood back up and began pumping into her faster, desperately, beginning to feel the weeks-to-months of pressure that came with not being able to cum with satisfaction. This person, this faceless spandex woman was real, was his, and he wanted her forever, Dean be damned. Holding her down by her back again, he touched the computer screen and read about Level 4 in his head. He smirked.

Without fanfare, Jay pulled out of Dean's ass and could practically hear the groan of his former partner. In a singular moment, he pressed the up arrow one more time on her back and turned her around by the shoulders. Looking into where Dean's eyes were supposed to be behind the mask. There was no intense feeling at first on Dean's end, but Jay could see how the slight indent of her nose, her mouth, and the subtle contour of her eyes slowly flattened, disappeared into a head-shape sphere, no longer representing anything human but still containing a person inside.

Dean couldn't feel the changes in his face, but he felt as if a world of oxygen was entering his body. The curve of his hips became slightly more exaggerated, his breasts inflating once more to a D cup, and the very makeup of his human body disappeared in favor of air, his physiology rapidly translating into that of a blow-up doll. The only visceral sensation after that which stuck out was around his mouth, where he felt a plastic-like sheath invade his throat and rudely inflate. Jay could see it: a mouth hole was developing before his very eyes, readying her to get face fucked. He didn't have to read the new developments to her, it was obvious enough that she could feel it, but he did so with one specific line. He pointed to it and urged her to follow his finger.