Number Six Ch. 3

“What is it you find so fascinating about those old books?” His mother asked, swirling wine lazily in her giant glass. 

Wincing, David turned the page, yellowed and curled from his endless poring over it. He had hoped she would give him some time alone - a forlorn hope it seemed. 

“I just enjoy them, that’s all.”

“Well there’s more things in this world to enjoy than just books, David…” His mother drawled in her vapid tone. 

Crossing the massive room with long yet casual strides, she gently but firmly pulled the book from his grasp. 

“Why don’t you watch The Love Match? Hmmm?”

David rolled his eyes, but didn’t dare express any further contempt lest his mother decide to take things further. Without waiting for his answer she turned on the TV and placed his book up on one of the higher shelves where he would no doubt need to ask herself or one of the maids to fetch it. Of course, he didn’t fancy thinking what he might have to do to earn such a favour…

Even as the thought occurred, the two maids appeared and took a seat at either side of him, sandwiching him between themselves entirely. Their sheer mass simply took up so much room on the already absurdly over-sized sofa that he was instantly trapped between their pillowy soft masses. They grinned at him as they held aloft the TV remote and flicked the main screen on.

The Love Match was, in David’s view, both a product of their society and of its main failing. The hypersexualisation of women and their fixation on men made it excellent fodder for female viewers, and of course they delighted in subjecting males to watching it with a mix of horror and fascination. However, the show was it was in its own way a necessity. It was simple numbers, women outnumbered men, and owning your own boy had become something of a status symbol. Indeed it was why so many mothers were so… reluctant to ever let their boys leave home. He watched as his mother left with a grin, evidently glad to see him trapped in the clutches of the maids. 

“That’s right folks, it’s six o’clock, you know what that means! It’s…” 

Mumbling under his breath at the well rehearsed line, his mind began to deflate as flashing lights and overly-graded colours bombarded him with dull nonsense - quite by design. Like it or not the show was perfectly crafted to appeal subconsciously even if one outwardly despised its insipid overtones. 

“THE LOVE MATCH!” Roared the crowd in response, and so resigned David settled back into his seat. If he was to be forced to watch it, he would at least be comfortable. 

As game shows went The Love Match was far from the most lurid, many shows essentially being little more than pure pornography with the flimsiest excuse for a plot, yet to him it was perhaps the most insidious. Even the name belied the true nature of what he saw around them. It was hardly love that inspired the matches the show produced. In that way it was really quite typical of modern society. He had never cared for just how hungry the contestants always seemed. 

“We have with us tonight four eligible bachelorettes, whose transformations have left them with beautiful, perfect, stunning bodies. Yet every one of them is missing that special something - or should I say, someone!”

The host was a former TV presenter, Olga Marisen. For most of his adolescence she had been most young boys’ dream partner, and to no small extent for most a nightly object of frantic and sweaty fascination. Indeed, one could almost imagine from her predatory grin she was well aware of the utterly devastating effect she had had on the minds of young men throughout her career. From utterly titanic breasts for which the idea of cup sizes were a joke, to thickly built thighs and a swelling ass, she seemed to have been designed purely to attract the interests of men. Hell, with the advent of transformation that may have been pretty close to the truth. 

However the four contestants just behind her were hardly lacking for otherworldly beauty either. 

“Let’s meet our contestants. Ladies, please introduce yourselves!”

Each woman was cut to in turn and given a chance to introduce themselves. 

Contestant number one, Sam, was quite typical of transformed women, however David never seemed to get used to them no matter how often he was around them. For a moment, he considered how odd that was… why the normal never seemed normal. Indeed, typical did not mean unattractive - quite the contrary. She was in every way the epitomy of what the transformation process could make her. A beautiful body, rounded ass, massive breasts which dwarfed her head and were supported by a large eight foot frame - long legs and thick thighs. She was typical only in how typically exceptional she was. 

The second contestant was a younger looking woman, Stacy, with what one might call an athletic build by post-transformed standards. Her body was toned and, while far from muscly, it was obvious she took great pride in her fitness. Even so she still sported proportions which no doubt made her former self seem minute in comparison. She was shorter at only seven feet or so tall, but had a determined look. 

The third contestant was Rachel, a tall, lithe woman with a firm look about her. She was quite thin until you reached her waist which ballooned outwards. Her massive derriere accompanied thighs which were probably each at their thickest point as wide as the length of David’s own legs.

Yet last of all was the most striking. A woman named Delilah whos breasts were quite simply some of the largest David had ever seen. Even the utterly absurd pornography which was now possible with modern technology couldn’t hold a candle to her simply monstrous bust. Long and bushy brown hair fell in curls down across the endless swell of her cleavage, her top cut so low that it was a wonder how it contained her breasts at all. 

“Well it’s so lovely to see such eager and amorous girls ready to claim the man of their dreams! Tonight you girls are in luck, we have just what you’re looking for…”

The crowd of transformed women gasped and jeered at the pause as the camera took time to sweep across them, as if to emphasize just how many there were, and how large they had become.

“Tonight’s special guest is a young man who has been looking for a woman to take care of him.” She spoke longingly, eyes drifting over the crowd which cooed and sighed in a mix of pity and amorous intent, before settling on the contestants who - for their part - seemed positively ravenous. “Bring out Ryan!”

Carried aloft on the shoulders of two transformed women was a young guy whose nervous grin spoke a hundred conflicting emotions, the guest star - or rather grand prize - arrived to a thunderous welcome from the hundreds of massive ladies in attendance. However it was the contestants who seemed most eager of all.

Once he had been brought onto the stage, Ryan was gently but firmly sat into a padded chair which had a near perfect outline of his comparitively smaller male form embedded into it. As such once sat inside it he practically sank into it. 

While Ryan’s broad smile was evident, there was obvious uncertainty at play. The baying crowds of giantesses groaning and cheering would have unnerved any lad. Yet beyond that there was a deeper fear behind those eyes, and that smile seemed far more forced when one knew the signs to look for. David had no doubt there was a less than entirely healthy dose of instant smile behind that grin. 

David had long since learned to look past the obvious when it came to their modern programming. He remembered how his father would scowl and shake his head so often when his mother insisted on watching tv. 

‘It’s not real. None of it is.’ His father would always rue, as his mother sank a grin behind her everpresent wine glass.

In the few moments the camera showed of their erstwhile captive, Ryan’s gaze flitted between the two women who had settled him into his seat. They had lingered just long enough to ensure he was snugly fitted into it - or perhaps to let their touch linger against him a little longer than needed. 

“Tonight’s prize is this gorgeous young man, Ryan,” Olga Marisen the host continued, trailing her fingers along the outline of the chair in which Ryan sat, easily able to circle round the massive seat which made Ryan seem positively tiny within, “who as you can tell has not yet undergone his transformation. He’s saving himself for one lucky lady.”

The crowd murmured excitedly as a few whooped and cheered. Ryan seemed to open his mouth to speak, but Olga whisked her microphone well out of reach before he could voice an opinion on the matter. 

“You’ll all have a chance to get up close and… personal with Ryan soon enough. However, only one of you will be getting to know him very well after tonight.”

The crowd roared at that, and Ryan seemed to shrink a little into his already sunken seat. 

“Now let’s move on to Round 1, to see who gets one step closer to taking this sweet boy home with them…” Olga cooed, beaming as she leaned in close to the trapped boy’s face. 

Four podiums appeared from the floor, two at either side of his raised chair, as his four amorous partners-to-be circled like predators as they passed just a little too close for comfort. Indeed, the boy yelped as a rogue hand snuck a subtle grope as they moved past, though from the knowing grins each contestant sported it was impossible to tell who had been responsible. 

“Our first round will allow you all to get to know our guest,” Olga mused as she stared at the boy who seemed to be trying his best to look calm, “Oh… and of course to let him him to get to know our contestants better…” she added with a sly wink to the audience. 

“Question one!” Olga announced, holding gold-leafed cards in front of her but not really reading them. David suspected there was nothing written on them at all, and she merely asked what she wanted. “What would you say is your best quality, the reason Ryan here should go home in your arms?”

Olga turned to Sam, the first contestant, who smiled as the cameras moved to her. 

“I would say my best quality is how much love I have to give…” she offered, as the crowd awww’d appropriately. “Of course, a woman sets the terms of that love for her boy…” at that, the crowd giggled conspiratorially. 

Stacy, the younger girl, spoke next. “I feel that my best quality is how eager I am to have a boy of my own.” The crowd whooped at that and she grinned with pride. 

“I can offer a boy structure and discipline… and a few other things.” Said Rachel, grinning only slightly from behind her business attire and glasses, as the crowd murmured approvingly. 

It was Delilah who got the most reaction, however, as her eyes never left the boy sat beside her. “Well as I’m sure that boy sitting there can imagine, I can feed even the hungriest boy as much Instant Smile as he can drink… and much more.”

The crowd screamed in delight as the buxom woman leered lecherously over her lectern. 

Ryan, for his part, appeared to be squirming in embarrassment what little he could in the confines of the padded chair. 

“Question two, what do you look for in a male?”

“Someone I can make happy… and who can make me happy.” Sam offered with a dreamy smile. 

“A boy who can keep up with me, or maybe one I can catch…” the young Stacy added wryly.

“Obedience.” Rachel said simply as the camera moved to her. 

The crowd enjoyed each answer, but Delilah took a moment once she was in view to allow the tension to grow. When the time was right she spoke to a captive audience.

“I love a boy who knows his place…” she mused, “right on my lap.”

The crowd cheered and whooped at that, and Ryan seemed to be trying to look anywhere but at her colossal breasts. 

Their host managed to calm the crowd at last, before bringing the microphone close to her lips. 

“Last question… how would you care for Ryan if he was your boy?”

“I’d ensure he had whatever his heart desired, and that his heart desired only me.” Sam offered. 

“I’d keep him healthy, happy… and very exhausted.” Stacy mused, biting her tongue. 

“I’d keep him leashed to my side… or my bed. Like a good pet.” Rachel said in a tone barely above a whisper. 

Each answer garnered a flurry of catcalls. Yet again, however, the crowd seemed poised and waiting to hear Delilah. 

“I’d carry him around, of course… right here, stuffed between my tits.”

It took a solid minute before the crowd could be brought back to a semblance of normality, and Ryan seemed to have made his mind up. Not as to which woman he wanted to go home with, but rather that he wanted to go home, or perhaps just wanted to be anywhere but here. He was trying to extricate himself from the chair with every ounce of strength the diminutive boy had, but finding it almost impossible. There was no purchase to be gained from the material he was sunken into as his hands slipped ineffectively off of it, and it grasped at him like the clasping hands of his captors themselves. 

It was far too late for him to contemplate escape. David could sympathise with the boy struggling, feeling similarly trapped, but it went deeper than that of course. He recognised in Ryan the same inevitability he foresaw in his own future, and the same history of manipulation in his own past. Ryan had, in reality, been doomed for far longer than his current predicament suggested. 

“How riveting! It seems no matter who wins tonight, Ryan will be a very happy boy.”

Olga gestured broadly before continuing. 

“Let’s move on to something a little more… involved.” Olga beamed into the camera. “Our contestants will now demonstrate how they will take care of… I mean, care for their new boy more directly.”

Ryan’s chair was lowered somewhat into the floor, bringing him down far enough that he had to look up at the powerful giantesses looming over him and surrounding him. Indeed, each of the four contestants now crowded around his chair, as if Ryan as the centrepiece of a display. 

From the floor ahead of them a dais rose, just ahead of Ryan. Atop it was a silken sheet draped over some as of yet hidden object. Olga gestured to it as she smiled to the crowd. 

“Now these ladies will demonstrate to Ryan just what he can look forward to in their homes.”

With that, she sauntered along the raised platform towards it, directly in Ryan’s eyeline. Smiling sultrily to him all the while, she revealed a neon pink dildo which she ceremoniously affixed to the surface of it and gave the tip a loving kiss. 

“This lovely creation is a perfect replica of our guest Ryan’s equally lovely cock!” Olga exclaimed as the crowd of massive women squealed, beside themselves with a mix of mirth and sexual frisson. “Now in your own time ladies, please take turns demonstrating what Ryan has to look forward to.”

Sam grinned as she took Olga’s place, mirroring the kiss Olga had given with several of her own before slowly beginning to stroke the phallic simulacra. Her eyes drifted from Ryan to the cock in front of her, then back to Ryan’s own crotch in a none-too-subtle implication. Then again, subtlety was hardly the name of the game. At this point the show was little more than pornographic as with so much of television these days. David did his best to ignore it, to view it as objectively as he could, but part of him couldn’t help but be in awe of what he saw, and jealous of the attention that dildo was receiving at that moment.

When Sam was satisfied with her performance, she stood back just a little, wiping the copious lubricant from her hand on a towel as if admiring her work. Given the chance Stacy quite literally leapt at the opportunity to take her place with youthful gusto. Despite her comparitively smaller stature at a mere seven feet tall she still needed to kneel to reach the comparitively diminutive phallice, even atop its raised platform. Tentatively at first, then eagerly, she coaxed Ryan’s replica with her fingers with youthful gusto. She rapidly stroked the pink member on display in front of the poor boy being subjected to their libidinous debauchery. The audience delighted at his bashful response - though if anything he seemed close to alarmed. 

What she lacked in subtlety she more than made up for with energetic enthusiasm. If anything her airy demeanous made it seem as if her frantic hyper-sexual grunting and stroking was little more than an exercise to her. Indeed, given the sheer competition for males it wouldn’t surprise David if Stacy and no doubt a great many other women spent hours at the gym perfecting their stroking techniques, the sweat-strewn gymnasiums awash with the slick sounds of phallic masturbation as each woman imagined a future male captive beneath their fingers. 

With some reluctance at Olga’s insistence Stacy dragged herself away to allow Rachel - the black clad woman with a firmer demeanour - to take her place. In contrast to her fellows, she rested herself calmly on her own legs, bringing the replica cock into perfect position before fixing Ryan with a glare. Then and only then did she begin and maintain a steady yet relentless pace, stroking as if milking a cow, mechanically. One could hardly describe it as a dispassionate technique, however. There was evident care put into ensuring her grip was as lavish and sexually explicit as it was merciless. 

Transfixed, Ryan couldn’t look away as her jet black eyes seemed to capture his very soul. Indeed much like the audience he was enraptured with each movement of her hand, the audience looking on with envy as she seemed to almost have the boy hypnotised with nothing more than a determined gaze and steady strokes. 

Having sufficiently impressed, Ryan blinked a few times before he realised the show had stopped and Rachel was already standing politely back - yet all the while her hungry gaze hadn’t left the boy she was so determined to have all to herself. 

Delilah’s massive chest shuddered with each step as she sought to outdo three already fantastic performances. Yet a devious smile on her lips had the audience eager to see how she, having already proven herself the fan favourite thus far, would make her mark upon the now squirming boy before her. 

As she kneeled before the dais, all were quiet as they watched on, yet none more so than Ryan as the giantess hooked a finger round each side of her soft cotton top’s neckline. With a swift tug, she unleashed her truly mammoth breasts and delighted in the shrieks this elicited from the crowd. Her already massive arms struggled to keep the sheer mass of breast flesh held aloft, barely able to fit around beneath them as they spilled forth no longer contained by her clothing. With a self-satisfied smirk, she smugly dropped them lower and utterly enveloped Ryan’s erstwhile comparitively small cock within the overwhelming wave of mammary she had unleashed. 

Her point had been sufficiently made as the crowd cheered and roared their approval. Yet that was far from the end of the ordeal for the poor boy. Olga stepped in front of the camera to address those watching from home. 

“We hope you’ll join us all after the break! Let’s see which one of these lovely ladies will be carrying our sweet little Ryan home with them!”

David blinked his eyes in momentary relief from the bombardment of riotous sound and colour. At least the adverts which followed were at least less intense - if often more bawdy. 

“Does your male try his best to keep up but his little legs are just too short?” 

A gushing voice over accompanied footage of a transformed male struggling to keep up with his much larger partner, who was half tugging him by the hand as she walked down the street. For good measure it seemed they also had him on a leash. 

“Now there’s a solution that’s comfortable, fashionable, and very secure.”

As a blonde, busty beauty easily eight feet tall ran her hands down her naked body a screenwipe revealed her wearing a set of form-fitting nylon straps around her hips, thighs, and hooked up behind her back. Each strap also featured some dangling ribbons. 

“Easily adjustable to every size, you can carry your beloved boy with you everywhere you go!”

Another screenwipe soon showed a transformed male struggling futilely in his presumed-girlfriend’s hands as she easily strapped his legs into the wraps around her thighs and secured his waist to her own.

“The brassiere comes with wrist cuffs that ensure your boy can always feel your bosom gently reassuring him with every step!” The female voice assured potential buyers.

His hands were fed through cuffs that left his arms pinned beneath each of her breasts as his head was slowly swallowed up by her colossal cleavage. With a muffled squeal his face was cut off and his body was essentially bound to her own. 

“Of course, if your boy is a little too worked up or you want to let him nap in your chest, you can always use the cuffs at the rear to have him held in reverse!”

A final wipe showed him trying his best to keep his head back, but the woman fitting him to her chest just placed a soft but firm hand on the back of his head and buried his face in her monumental tits before securing a strap around the back of his neck.

“Order the Boy-Carrier now and we’ll throw in this delightful sheer neglige!”

A model displayed her body for the benefit of female viewers, yet the message was equally well delivered to David and the doubtless countless males watching too. Of course, given the semi transparent material, he could still make out the boy trapped beneath her clothes, smothered in her breasts and struggling pathetically to free himself from the infantile prison he was in. 

As the screen faded to black, David could only swallow, wondering where that guy was now. David felt his heart begin to beat again, only just having noticed he’d been holding his breath. As he looked between his two twin tormentors sat either side of him they were both looking down on David with unabashed hunger in their eyes. Each had a had over their breasts as they stared down at him longingly, gently stroking the head of a phantom captive between their breasts and no doubt imagining David strapped and imprisoned against themselves. David heart pounded all the harder as he imagined his life being lost, simply stuffed down the cleavage of either of those women. 

As a new commercial popped up their attention was drawn back to the screen and gave both them and him a welcome distraction. Them from David, and David from his anxiety. On screen was a truly massive transformed woman staring directly into the camera whilst dressed in a deep black leotard; the official uniform of the Women’s Earth Defense Force. 

“Our society is perfect, and the only way to keep it perfect is to keep it safe. Protecting our people, especially our men who cannot protect themselves, is the duty of every woman in our society - but above all it is the sacred duty of the Women’s Earth Defence Force.”

As the voice over played, the smiling leotard-sporting female soldier saluted while behind her images and videos began to play across the background. At first a transformed soldier was hugging someone at a parade, and then next a WEDF soldier is handing out food to men sitting in rows, though whether they were there for charity or against their will wasn’t clear. From their frightened expressions he was tempted to think the latter. 

An image of a white picket-fenced home appeared on screen as a uniformed woman arrived home, heavy duffel bag strung over her shoulder, to the idyllic suburban scene from a long lost age. There hadn’t been such homes on Earth in a century, not since… David tried to remember the reference as it danced at the edges of his awareness. He knew he had read about it once, out it but it seemed to slip from his mind like wet sand. As a result, or perhaps resulting from, he was again distracted by the deep cleavage of the busty, transformed woman soldier as she set her bag on the ground and removed a dazed looking young man from it. 

He was barely conscious as he looked around, an almost rictus grin marking his face as the soldier placed him on her hip and displayed the home to him in a sweeping gesture before hugging him tightly to her tremendous bosom. 

“Take up a new home on one of the recently liberated colonies and start a new life with your new partner today!"

The maids at either side of him sighed in erotic sympathy at that sentiment. 

“Do your part and preserve our society as it is. Ensure that radicals who seek to change our perfect system cannot take root.” The calm but authoritative female voice continued. “All our troops are automatically approved for a state mandated partnership with the male of their choice, availability pending.”

“Availability pending,” Melissa repeated with smirk in her voice, absentmindedly stroking her hand over David’s lap with her long, experienced fingers. 

David, desperate to keep her attention off him for a change, quickly piped up. 

“Huh? What do you mean?” He asked innocently, as her fingers moved down and began to relentlessly yet skillfully play with his weak spots. 

“There’s a lot they don’t tell you before you sign up.” Cara sighed in a mix of forlorn satisfaction, running her fingers through his hair causing shivers to run down his spine while she kept watching TV. 

“We’re still on the waiting list for our partners, even though we were discharged almost… what was it Melissa, three years ago now?” Carra said casually running her tongue up David’s ear. 

“Almost four now,” her old squadmate replied, lightly tickling David across his thighs and making him squirm in response. 

David tried to keep them talking, curious about what they were saying despite his anxiety. He’d never met anyone who had been to the outer colonies before, let alone spoken to them. He only hoped he could keep them distracted long enough that he would escape without having to undergo another session of sexual relief from the pair. Ironically enough the endless ‘relief’ was leaving him exhausted - no doubt intentionally. 

“Oh so you were in the WEDF… what did you do?” He asked, scooching back in his seat as much as he could to buy himself a few moments more away from their wily fingers. 

However, Melissa and Cara stopped their teasing at his question. They looked at each other for a moment and began to laugh. 

“I’m sorry David, but I’m afraid if I told you…” Melissa whispered while tickling his nose, “I’d have to scramble your brain.” 

She chuckled to herself as Carra joined in on what was obviously a private joke.

“Can’t you tell, David?” Carra asked while petting him like a cherished treasure. “We were a premiere… re-education team. We were level 1 Re-educators. You could send a man to us and within a few days he'd have any old silly thoughts about rebelling wiped away.”

“We we so very good at our jobs, too. We really enjoyed it…” Melissa added, lost in a pleasant memory. 

“Level 1, so you were the highest level?” David asked quietly.

Melissa laughed out loud at that

“Oh no, not by far. Level 2 Re-educators were for the tough cases.” Cara began tickling the underside of David’s permently erect cock as he squirmed between them. “Then there were Level 3 for high value targets…”

Melissa kept stroking her fingers through his hair as she continued where Carra left off. 

“And of course, for the special cases they would bring in the specialists. Level 4.” 

For a moment the pair seemed to have a far off look in their eyes, remembering something that was obviously appealing to them both and yet… tinged with disturbance.

“Hope you never meet a Level 4 David. I dont know if you little mind could take it.” Carra said softly, squeezing David closer to reassure herself.

David’s muffled groans as he was smothered into her prodigious chest, her soft flesh enveloping his face, belied his deeper concerns. Though it was hard to think at all while buried so deeply in inhumanly large breasts, his mind continued to race. A Re-educator? Rebellion? What was going on on the outer colonies? Were things… different there? 

Or maybe… maybe it was Earth that was different. Maybe out there things were still the way they used to be.

A sudden jingle from the TV got their collective attention as, with some effort, David managed to extricate himself from Carra’s chest. 

“Transformation is the peak of scientific progress. It is the basis for our perfect society. However, our top scientists are constantly seeking for ways to improve upon perfection. No matter how perfect we are, we can always be better!”

Carra and Melissa slowly let their attention drift back to the advertising. David however was utterly disinterested, as he continued to mull over the implications of what he had learned. He wasn’t sure whether they had intended to leak seemingly classified information or not, but either way he was both fascinated… and disturbed. 

“Our newest methods are just that little bit better than before, and the latest models can be yours! Now women can be taller, stronger, bigger, bustier… more beautiful in every way. Luxury options are always available for anyone looking to be the best version of themselves that they can be.”

The grinning model of a transformed woman gave a wink to the camera, before she disappeared, and the camera paused a moment before panning down to reveal a much shorter male, appearing almost utterly intoxicated with bliss.

“Of course, we have more options for males now too. They can be whatever you want them to be.”

David became aware that the maids were no longer distracted by the television. With a wince, he looked up from between their colossal tits to see both of them staring down at him intently. While it was difficult to see past their massive bodies closed in on either side of him, each had a hand between their thighs rhythimically moving. Even had the slick, wet sounds of their thighs gently gyrating not given it away it would have been obvious what they were doing. 

David shrank in his seat. 

The next advert thankfully did distract them once more, as unlike all the others it opened in a far more cinematic fashion. The camera swept in over a large, gleaming white structure as birds tweeted, the sun shone over green grass… yet as the camera closed on the front entrance, David felt his stomach tighten a little as his cock throbbed noticably in his shorts. Scantily clad transformed women in utterly revealing Nurses and Doctors uniforms stood outside the doorway of a medical facility. 

“I am Doctor Valnurana,” one of the women said as she stepped forward to smile to the camera, “and here at Valnurana’s Institute for Male Rehabilitation we pride ourselves on being the most professional, and most successful, Rehabilitation facility in this part of the world.”

She had a pre-government accent, something rather rare in this day and age. It was as sharp and harsh as her demeanour, a product of being an older model of transformation. Defined cheekbones, sunken cheeks, it was an odd contrast to the friendly and motherly look which dominated so prevalently today. 

While transformation essentially did away with aging, if you looked closely you could spot the occasional sign of it in earlier models. Subtle lines and traces which gave away the barest hint of their true age. Most women chose to upgrade as they got older to modern models, indeed she could have had a nearly identical model which hid even those slight signs, but for some reason she hadn’t. 

It made the doctor an anomaly, something just a little out of place in a world where it felt like everybody looked the same. There was something captivating about the Doctor Valnurana, and yet David couldn’t help feeling a little frightened of her. Despite his best efforts he had become accustomed to, even comfortable in the endless morass of similarity and glamour society thrust into his view. 

However, the footage cut away from her at last, and now the screen showed a transformed woman helping a male out of his chair as she smiled.

“Our staff are experts in all fields of male Rehabilitation, from the simplest case to the most severe. We know just how to treat males to help them be the best male they can be.”

Now several nurses, equally busty and absurdly proportioned as those before, surrounded a male on a luxurious looking bed, pampering him and caressing him lovingly as he seemed to practically melt under their touch. 

“Yet rehabilitation is no easy process. We strive to ensure that while males are treated with the deepest dignity and respect, there can be no healing, no treatment, unless we get to the root cause of their issues.”

The screen changed to show a younger male, maybe twenty, strapped to a chair by the ankles, wrists, even his chest and forehead, holding him utterly trapped. Wires were attached to his head and other parts of his body as he writhed in the bonds holding him in place. Just barely visible in the background a figure in a white lab coat was dispassionately observing the scene with a clipboard in hand. In front of their captive a screen played a montage of smaller males being doted on and cared for by much larger women, interspersed with graphically sexual pornographic images and clips. All the while, nurses around him were softly and teasingly stimulating all the most sensitive parts of his body while he frantically, desperately, and yet hopelessly tried to escape from his bonds. 

“Our treatments range from physiological, biological, to psychological. This can involve psychological therapy…”

A male was shown resting on the lap of a much larger woman in a stereotypical psychiatrists office, her holding his head to her breast as she spoke to him. The woman in a skimpy doctor’s garb casually stroked his hair. The young man had heavy bags under his eyes, however, and looked exhausted… as though he hadn’t slept in days. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, he had a dreamy smile on his face as he snuggled into his doctor’s massive chest and subtly nodded along as she spoke soundlessly to him.

“Immersion therapy…”

Next a male was shown being entombed within the clothing of a nurse, fastened to her body as medical bandages were wrapped around him by a second nurse, binding him to her body with his head held firmly between her breasts. A pair of headphones were placed over his ears, and a VR headset strapped across his eyes as his entire world was reduced to her all-encompassing bosom and whatever sights and sounds were being piped into his brain. Indeed he soon began to jerk his head as if trying to escape what he was being shown in a panic. 

“To our world-renowned bliss therapy, where males who for one reason or another, either being fussy eaters or simply biologically intolerant, struggle to drink their Instant Smile to a sufficient degree are helped to develop a greater taste and appreciation for it.”

A truly massively breasted woman was seen easily overpowering a squirming male who was dressed in an almost infantile onesie-stroke-hospital gown, was forcibly being breastfed a true deluge of her breastmilk.

His fist beat futilely against the mountainous breasts overwhelming his smaller body, and she simply reached down to stroke the face of the young man forced aginst her, barely noticing his struggles as she grinned at his helplessness. Slowly, his desperate struggles seemed to subside as his limbs gradually relaxed as he failed to swallow the torrential flow of milk. She was forcibly feeding him suhch a deluge that David could see each gout of milk pumping down his throat as the excess drooled down his chin, a little jet of cream leaking out of the side of his mouth each time. 

“Our testimonials are universally stunning.” Doctor Valnurana interrupted the scene, stepping into the screen and smiling with wicked intent to the viewer. “Please listen to some of our grateful customers.”

The screen cut to a massive woman sitting in a plush armchair, a nude male cuddling up to her side lovingly. 

“My son used to run away from me when I told him it was time for his feeding, and now I can barely get him to let me go… not that I’m complaining. He’s so much better behaved now. Calm and content, especially when his tummy is full…”

Another woman sat on her sofa had a smaller guy on her lap and was gently stroking his hair as she pressed him to her chest.

“This little guy used to squirm so much, but after Doctor Valnurana’s conditioning treatment he’s so quiet and submissive now just by being close to my breasts.”

From the blissed out vacant smile on the guy’s face, it was obvious whatever they had done to him had worked. 

“Now whenever he sees a big, soft, heavy, jiggling pair of tits he practically starts drooling…”

A third woman appeared on screen holding a man on her hip wearing a tight purple dress, with her cleavage on full display. Her man’s arms were wrapped tightly around her neck, his face turned into her side.

“When I was given Marc to take care of by his mother I thought I was the luckiest woman in the world. But soon after we moved in together, he became fussy and soon refused to even cuddle. One day I came home to find him gone. Luckily he got picked up by the Defence Force trying to stow away on a ship leaving Earth.” 

She paused to clutch the man tighter to her side as though the memory of the event still frightened her. 

“As you can imagine I was out of my mind with worry, I knew he was scared and confused but no matter what I did or said I couldn’t get through to him that this was his life now, a better life than any male could ever dream of. Thats when I called the clinic, and after a week of treatment well…” smiling, with some difficulty she managed to get the man off of her and put him on the ground at arm’s length. 

The second he was apart from her his eyes filled with fear and panic. For a moment he looked off screen, as if contemplating escape, but began to hyperventilate for a few seconds before throwing himself at the woman wrapping his arms around her calves, desperately kissing her thighs with a needy, manic frenzy. He clutched at her in a pleasing manner, much to her delight. 

She smiled for a moment before lifting him back up and firmly burying the small man’s face in her breasts running a soothing hand up and down his back. 

“Now you just try and get him away from his mommy.” She smiled, kissing the top of his head. 

Doctor Valnurana stepped out into the sunshine in front of her Rehabilitation centre once again, smiling warmly to the camera, but once more there was a cold tinge to her eyes that sent a chill through David. 

“If your male has any of the problems we have mentioned here, has problems which a trained male psychiatrist has recommended treatment for, or if you just feel your male needs to be… corrected in some way… please contact us immediately at 012694208008. Our goal is to help all males to be healthy, happy, and content with their lives. Let us help you.”

Her grin broadened at that last remark, and her gleaming white teeth were the last thing he saw before the screen turned black. 

“A lot of our former comrades work there now.” Carra mused. “A lot of re-educators found jobs with Doctor Valnurana.”

David’s eyes widened at that remark. What kind of hospital would employ former military personnel? Especially interrogators or… whatever it was those women did.

“I thought about applying but I think I prefer my current job.” Melissa said at last, reaching down to grope David’s helpless body. “Much more… intimate.”

Watching from the doorway, unnoticed by David so enveloped was he in the bodies of the two gigantic women sat either side of him, his mother was swirling wine in her glass as if in thought. Her eyes were on David rather than the screen. No matter what happened, no matter what the TV showed him, she saw her son stoically trying to ignore the lecherous attentions of the women groping him. It simply wasn’t normal. Any boy should have been a squirming mess of sexual bliss under such treatment - that was what she had paid for after all. 

As the advert played on, idealic scenes of a medical institute were interspersed with absurdly sexual scenes, and all the while that phone number was displayed prominently. She took the time to write it down on her arm in her favourite brand of crimson lipstick before leaving them to their viewing. Carra gave her a sideways glance, and grinned as she saw what his mother was doing. Yet that smile seemed somehow sad. 

David noticed her looking away and a crease of concern crossed his brow, but he soon regretted catching her attention as the woman suddenly looked back down and pulled him into a breathtaking hug. Quite literally breath-taking for David as it turned out, since her massive breasts made breathing nigh impossible for a few moments until he squirmed his way into a position where he could take heady perfumed breaths through the fuzzy fabric of her sweater. 

As marvelous music washed over them, however, she loosened her grip just enough for him to escape once more to the relative freedom of merely being squished between their massive, tire-thick meaty thighs and pendulous breasts at his eye-level ever threatening to envelop him. 

A fantastic multi-coloured sunrise rose over blue-tinged foliage and almost neon pink sands. After a few moments of almost dreamlike peace, the voice over gently began. 

“Do you dream of more?”

For the first time since he’d let go of his book David was paying attention, or at least paying attention to something for a reason beyond the tittilation of his senses. 

“There’s a place for you here on the Venus colony.”

An idealic resort appeared on screen as the sun rose behind a picturesque mountain range in the distance, rays of sunlight alighting the misty morning air. 

“You can be yourself here. You can be everything you want to be. You can be everything you are capable of being.”

The view panned over utterly breathtaking views, before settling on a massive hotel resort which seemed almost from another age, a bygone era. For a moment it felt almost nostalgic. He could have sworn he’d seen places like this in his father’s old books. 

“The Venus colony is beautiful. It’s relaxing. And above all… it’s safe.”

The exterior walls were huge, daunting even. David’s hopes blossomed even as he felt something cold sink into the pit of his stomach. 

“Be the woman you were born to be.”

The camera panned over luxurious spas and poolside resorts. Women and their men both were being pampered to absurd degrees. 

“Of course, the colonies have never been safer. Our facilities are perfectly secure. 

As dozens of transformed women - including many in uniform - appeared on screen, David literally sank into the sofa in defeat. For just a moment it had sounded… different. Different to here. Like his books told him the old world had been. 

For a moment David allowed himself to dream of a life far away in a different place. A different world. Where he could be… well, more than what he seemed destined to be. One where his only future wasn’t solely as the treasured pet of some amorous amazon. 

For a moment… just for a moment. He could imagine himself exploring a strange world beyond the solar system, stowing away on some transport ship to the outer rim. Maybe finding others like him. Maybe there were people out there who felt as he felt. That they didn’t have to do this. To live like this. This plastic coated bliss. 

“I knew a girl when we were in the Forces.” Cara mused. “She knew someone whos man went missing on the Venus colony… They never knew what happened to him.”

That notion sparked a little hope in David. Perhaps that man hadn’t simply gone missing at all. Perhaps instead he had found an opportunity to go missing.

“Such a shame. It’s much safer there now, but still, the thought of losing a boy like that is so scary.” Melissa spoke with palpable dread, not that David noticed as he was lost in thought as to the possibility that he could simply disappear and start a life of his own. 

His contemplative revery was jerked away from him as Cara, seeing him lost in his own world, used the opportunity to snake her long fingers under David’s shirt to begin lightly ticking his sensitive ribs and send him into a involuntary spasm of laughter. As she did so, Melissa held him tight into her body. 

Any deeper thoughts fled from his mind under forced mirth. That seemed to be the cycle of his existence that he was - at least for now - doomed to endure. 

His only relief came when at last the commercials ended and the show came back on, and the girls relaxed back into their seats to watch - although each continued to idly grope the poor boy with a free hand. 

Olga greeted the returning audience. “Welcome back!” She exclaimed, before commenting on the commercials which no doubt were financial backers of the show. “You know when it comes to the Boy Carrier, I can say from personal experience that they aren't just a great sponsor, but a great product…”

With ominously slow deliberance Olga reached down to her straining top and pulled the hem of the material apart. Slowly she revealed to the cameras the head of a man firmly strapped onto one of the bubbly host’s massive breasts, before allowing the stretcht material to snap back into place just as the trapped man seemed to notice his temporary exposure. 

In the brief glimpse David had of the covered man he could have sworn he saw a thin stream of white milk escaping the side of his mouth, and for a moment he thought he saw tears dripping down his cheeks. Then again, perhaps it was just a trick of the studio lighting. It was hard to keep track as his two tormentors returned to casually teasing him. What temporary relief he had enjoyed was lost as their ticklish onslaught returned as their hands resumed their teasing caresses of his trapped body. 

On screen Olga caressed the side of Ryan’s face who by now, as the clear prize of the show, had resolutely decided he had made a terrible mistake by volunteering for the show. That is if his appearance was voluntary at all, which it very well may not have been. Perhaps he had begun to see through the visage of the society he had been raised in. Only now, at last, when it was all too late did the paper thin veneer fall away. Like a rat in a maze, he was entirely at their mercy. His widened eyes and sweated brow suggested he had long since begun to panic at the prospect of being a captive of one of these massive women for the rest of his life. 

“We have just two rounds left tonight! Who can tell me what’s up next?” Olga asked, putting one hand to her ear as she held the microphone towards the crowd. 

The camera cut to the audience who jubilantly shouted back. 

“THE LABYRINTH!” Cheered the jubilant busty crowd. 

“That’s right! Within the walls of our maze, all four of our contestants will compete to show off just how eager they are to be the one to take Ryan home with them tonight!”

As she stepped back, the walls of the studio behind her opened up to reveal a truly massive labyrinth. Surrounded by cameras and floodlit like a sports arena, the gargantuan walls of the maze stretched out before them all. 

At least a kilometer square, and with each wall at least eighteen feet tall, it rendered the until-then relatively modest setting of the studio practically minute by comparison. The maze was of course sized for even the largest transformed woman, hence the sheer size needed for the construction. The walls and even the floor were constructed of a rather dense spongy foam which one couldn’t hope to cut through without an axe, but which was soft enough that anybody taking a fall would not be injured. They were coloured a dull pastel yellow, uniform throughout, and as David knew from watching before one could very easily become lost. 

For both those at home and in the audience they would rely on the screens relaying their locations and footage from within once the contestants entered. 

Ryan gripped the sides of the chair which held him captive anxiously as two assistants on the show, each a similarly tall and busty transformed woman, approached to lift his seat up and wheel it into the centre of the maze. As they walked, sections of wall lowered themselves to sink into the floor, before raising up again behind them. The maze itself was modular and could be changed so that each time it was used it had a new configuration. 

Satisfied, the two assistants made sure Ryan was ‘comfortable’, which just happened to involve as much lecherous touching of his body as possible. As they did so, Olga narrated the upcoming challenge. 

“For those who haven’t seen it before, the Labyrinth is simple. Our contestants must make their way through the winding paths to locate Ryan who will be sat at the heart of the maze. The first one there will get a chance to convince him to let them be the one to take him home with them!”

The crowd cheered and whooped at the obvious implications of her words. 

“I think we’re about ready to begin. Ladies, take your positions!”

Sam, Stacy, Rachel and Delilah each took positions at doorways which appeared along the same wall, casting each other sideways glances - all except for Delilah. She instead had her focus squarely on the screens above her and was ignoring the other competitors entirely. 

“Three, two, one…” Olga counted down, allowing time for the audience to join in, before screaming “GO!”

Stacy, the younger and most athletic of the four, had adopted a sprinters stance during the countrown; she took off into the maze at blistering speed. The entryway shut behind her as she passed over it, as it did for each of the others. Sam entered at a quick jog, while Rachel, the sterner woman, paused. She stared at Delilah, wondering what the mature woman was planning. For a moment she also stared up at the screens, before she casually strolled inside. 

Delilah had not moved an inch. She instead stood outside her entryway, not entering the maze at all. As such, the doorway in front of her remained open. 

The crowd cheered regardless as each of the three other women proceeded according to strategies which the audience - and Olga - were swiftly able to divine. 

Stacy had, unsurprisingly, decided to play to her strengths. She sprinted down one corridor after another, taking turn after turn, presumably hoping to just cover as many paths as possible and hopefully be the first to arrive. 

Sam opted for a more conventional strategy: follow the left hand wall. She trailed her hand along it, moving at a reasonable pace. 

Rachel was by contrast moving slowly, calculatedly, having cottoned on to Delilah’s strategy - if not her goal. She was watching the screens above to see the layout of the maze from above, and indeed, whenever the camera showed Rachel a view of herself she used it to orient towards the centre of the maze where Ryan lay. 

For a moment Rachel looked back once more, stopping in her tracks. She was curious - why hadn’t Delilah entered the maze? Was she trying to memorize it? Surely that wasn’t possible in the time they had. Even if she did the others would be more likely to find Ryan by chance before then… 

Ryan was entirely unaware of the situation. Indeed as he listened over the speakers positioned around the maze to Olga narrating the imminent arrival of his future tormentress and his inevitable capture, he was struggling mightily in the form fitted chair. So much so that he was finally beginning to make some progress in freeing himself. Once he managed to extricate his arms he was able to slowly but steadily lift himself to a standing position, but was only able to pry his body free by gently lowering himself to the ground until, at last, he popped free of the clingy sponge material. 

Only when the camera cut to Ryan, kneeling on the floor and regaining his breath from the sheer exhaustion of extricating himself from his captivity, did it suddenly become all too clear to Rachel what Delilah had planned. With a visibly cold scowl, she set off at a far swifter pace. 

Delilah smiled. In pride, almost, at seeing the boy free himself. She moved a little closer to the entryway, but didn’t move inside. Now she merely had her eyes on the interior of the maze, and she sat there waiting. 

Ryan had recovered, and could hear the panting breaths of the horny giantesses throwing themselves down every corridor. Ahead of him he could see the only entryway to the centre of the maze. For a moment he looked up at the screens, hoping to gain some idea of which way to go, but when the cameras merely took the opportunity to focus in on his grim visage he bit his lip and ran for it. 

Stacy was now beginning to retrace ground. She was certain she had passed many corners multiple times already, but kept going. As she passed the slower moving other women, though, she began to lose heart, as they became the only two landmarks in an otherwise endless series of pale yellow walls and corners. It occured to her that the fourth woman, Delilah, was nowhere to be seen. She began to worry that she had found some path which left her isolated from the rest of the maze - and which may be the correct solution. 

Pausing for a moment to observe her surroundings after nearly six full minutes of sprinting, Stacy rested back against a wall, before turning around a corner to plan her next move. 

Only then did Ryan to stumble around a corner fifty meters ahead of her, flitting his head around warily before locking eyes with her. For a moment the two just stood there staring, neither believing their luck, before the audience screamed in approval and broke the silence. 

Stacy broke into a pursuit as Ryan ran for dear life. 

Sam and Rachel looked up at the screens in dismay as they heard the crowd go berserk, assuming the prize had been claimed… only to see Stacy chasing the boy down and gaining on him slowly but surely with every corner he took. The pair both ran, hoping to intercept Stacy and Ryan somewhere in the maze. 

Outside, Delilah was grinning broadly, watching as the map kept track of the other three contestants. Poor Ryan, like a rabbit in the eyes of hungry pursuers, was running as if his life depended on it. In a way it did, Delilah mused.

She giggled at that. It wasn’t far from the truth either, he truly was prey in their eyes. Still, she showed no signs of urgency. Delilah merely waited there, occasionally letting her gaze drift up to the screens before returning to the doorway ahead of her. 

Sam saw Ryan pass right in front of her at top speed. Before she could round the corner in pursuit Stacy whipped past her so quickly it nearly knocked her flat. Ryan seemed to be taking corners wherever he could, seemingly hoping with his shorter stride that he could keep some distance from his pursuers. 

To his intense and continuing panic he could hear the footsteps of his pursuers getting closer. As he rounded one corner Rachel was there waiting for him, and he barely ducked under her grasping hands.

In desperation he looked up to the screens and saw an exit framed perfectly, so invitingly. There was a way out! If he could get out of this maze then maybe he could get out of the building somehow, run back home or somewhere far from there. Or maybe he could get to a microphone, object to what was happening to him. He could scream to the cameras, tell them this merry ride was out of control! 

Ryan ran as fast as his legs could carry him, with three ravenous women on his tail. It hadn’t occurred to him that he hadn’t seen the fourth yet. 

At home, David was leaning forward, trying to see past Cara and Melissa’s massive tits as they too leant in eagerly to watch. David had no doubt they were rooting for the women, he however hoped to see Ryan make it out. However futile, even a token sign of defiance would fan the flames in his heart.

Ryan could tell it was near. He was so close! He could hear the audience’s screams getting louder and louder. He saw it! An opening that wasn’t yellow! The light of the studio beaming through was all the encouragement he needed. The girls behind him were close but if he could just get through that door-

Delilah stepped out from behind the wall and lowered herself to her knees. Arms open, she grinned condescendingly as Ryan’s own momentum kept him going, stumbling directly into her arms just inches from his freedom. 

“Come to Mama…” she gloated as he skidded into her breasts, her hands wrapping triumphantly around his back.

It was like watching a man struggle in quicksand, and the inevitability of the boy’s submission cloyed at David’s throat.

“This is your home now sweetie… right where you belong.” She whispered down to him as Ryan slowly sank into her cleavage.

“Noooo!” He squealed in defiance at the sheer unfairness of it all. He had been so close!

Yet he was swiftly submerged into the massive mammaries of Delilah who delightedly engulfed him in her bosomy clutches, arms wrapping around him to utterly envelop him in tits that were each half as big as himself. 

The audience was beside with glee, delighted with the gladiatorial spectacle, the cunning and skill. Seeing the poor boy trapped when he had been so close to escape touched something deeply within the amorous and domineering psyche of every woman in attendance. Nothing brought them so much joy as seeing a boy’s agency stripped from him, reducing him to nothing more than a toy within their grasp… 

Olga congradulated the winner and, as promised, took a few moments to leave Ryan and his captor alone as the other three women - exhausted but in good spirits - applauded with the audience. 

The cameras cut away as Delilah further entrapped her prisoner against herself, as the maze wall closed behind her. 

***

As the final commercial break began Delilah knew she had to move quickly. She had been on a waiting list for more than 10 years now and had begun to lose all hope. She had seen the reports. Declining male birth rates and sagging numbers of ‘liberated’ males from the outer world pacification squads. She knew it was only going to get worse. Boys like Ryan were at most three years away from being beyond worth their weight in gold. By then only the richest or best connected would be able to get thier hands on one. Already so many women had to share males between themselves. Indeed some males were spread quite literally between a half dozen giantesses, each doting endlessly upon him and leaving him in eternal sexual bliss - or torment. 

It had cost her almost everything she had to bribe her way onto the show. Women were getting more and more desperate to get their hands on a fresh male and Ryan was her chance to finally be what she had always dreamed of being since she had picked out her transformation model on her 18th birthday. What she was meant to be, she told herself.

Reaching under her right breast she removed something from behind a well hidden bandage. Once she had the small vial concealed there in her grasp she quickly unscrewed the top, instantly enveloping both her and her captive Ryan with the smell of cream, fresh baked cookies, flowers and a dozen other scents mixed with a sickly sweetness that made even Delilah’s enhanced brain swim for a moment in relaxed bliss. 

She smiled as she looked down on Ryan who, understandably, was too overwhelmed being buried in breasts larger than his own torso to notice. Beneath her calm demeanour though she was giddy to think that after a year of plotting and scheming she would finally be whole. To be with a boy with whom she could do as she liked. 

Pulling Ryan out of her cleavage for a moment her smile broadened, while he took the chance to gulp great lung-fulls of air. Yet as his dazed expression at last drifted up from her monstrous tits he had only just noticed the glass vial she was holding before she tipped the contents of the vial onto her breasts as it soon dripped down to envelop his face as it coated her cleavage, making it shine brightly under the stage lights.

“Wha…” Ryan mumbled dumbly as, despite himself, he watched with fascination as she worked the mystery substance into her already distractingly large breasts. 

Soon the acreage of her bosom was slick and sheen, with the odd substance pooling in her cleavage. She merely smiled at him innocently as she finished spreading the mystery liquid across her prodigious chest. 

Already the fumes were beginning to make him dizzy as the scent of fresh baked bread and a warm cup of cocoa invaded his senses. Soon his already weakened mind began to slow further, flooding his brain with dopamine and oxytocin. The light playing across her glistening breasts began to sparkle and shine under the bright studio lights, dancing in his vision. 

“No time to explain right now my sweet boy, let’s just say that Mommy needs to make sure her little boy makes the right choice at the end of the show, okay?” 

Ryan looked up into her eyes as the breath caught in his throat. Her eyes seemed to glow with a soft warm light that brought a tear welling to his eye. She was so… beautiful. Her delicate, motherly laugh echoed in his mind as her dazzling smile made him feel like he was the most loved person in the world.

Delilah tittered as she clinically observed the effects that the pheromone compound had on Ryan. His dime-sized dilated pupils indicated that the mild hallucinagen had began to kick in, and any moment his brain would begin to release a potent cocktail of dopamine and oxytocin that would render his unprepared little mind far more open and pliable for her. If she had done her job properly then in a few moments his limbic system would resemble that of a baby duck about to imprint on its mother. All of that, combined with the mild hypnotic she had sprinkled in, should ensure that Ryan would be in a proper state to absorb the indoctrination she would impart to him.

She couldn’t help but giggle as his mouth sagged open, a thin line of drool painting the corner of his chin. Ryan smiled stupidly at having made the most beautiful and wonderful woman he had ever seen happy. Gently pulling his head into her cleavage again he was assaulted with a direct dose of the powerful, mind-altering chemical concoction already so deeply affecting him. He tried to struggle for a moment, on some level instinctually resisting the envelopment; but soon he was breathing that wonderful scent deeply, and actually even trying to nuzzle his face deeper into the deep and perfumed valley of her cleavage.

“That’s a good boy… nice deep breaths for me… in and out…” She murmured, her words trickling into his ear and being readily absorbed by his vulnerable mind. “Such a goooood boy, listen to Miss Delilah.” 

After a few deep breaths she could feel his little tongue begin to lick and kiss at her bosom, a sign of his growing desire for the intoxicating intimacy of her breasts. It had taken her years working in secret at the Ministry of Science to secure an office of military research. All those long, lonely nights working in the chem lab were about to pay off if she was able to keep her focus. 

Ryan’s worshipful kisses were not making it easy though. Indeed, the compound she had developed was having an effect on her as well. Steeling herself, she reminded herself this was her only shot, and no matter the wave of lust she felt at his submissive supplication she wouldn’t let this invaluable opportunity pass her by. 

Slowly she pulled Ryan out of her cleavage, even as he struggled feebly to keep kissing the sweet flesh of the goddess that held him. 

“Ryan… look into my eyes baby.” 

Ryan tore his eyes away from her cleavage long enough to stare into her deep, green eyes - and was instantly transfixed. They glowed and sparkled like two gems in the light as a corona of white light framed her gorgeous face like an angel. He felt his heart ache with love as he gazed up at the glorious creature holding him. 

She pitched her voice lower and gently swayed them together in a subtle, hypnotic way. One she knew would cause his chemically addled brain to see the lights dance across her eyes. 

“That’s a good boy…” she intoned lightly, rubbing his lower back in time with her rhythmic swaying. “Ryan… you want to be my good boy don’t you?” 

Ryan stared at her worshipfully, but blankly. Gently she brought her hand up to the back of his head to nod along with her. 

“Yes of course you do.” Delilah cooed softly, grinning wickedly as she let go of his head and Ryan gradually nodded on his own, still gazing at her with that slack jawed expression.

Delilah hesitated for a moment and wondered if perhaps she had done too good a job on the addled young man. Too late for that now, she thought, plowing ahead as she knew she only had moments to burn herself into his mind. 

“Ryan, you think I’m beautiful right?” 

He nodded

“You love the way my massive breasts make you feel, right honey?” 

Ryan’s gaze dropped to her monumental chest again as his drool began to pool atop her breast as he pressed against it. Delilah smiled as she tilted his head forward, enveloping him in weapons-grade pheromones once more. 

“So when the nice lady asks you who you want to belong to… what are you going to say?” Delilah asked, gently prying his head from her bosom, but she poke with a subtle authoritative tone which underlined her otherwise blissfully sweet demeanour. 

“M….Mommy?” 

It wasn’t clear if Ryan was answering her, or stuttering a confused question. Regardless, Delilah persisted. 

“I like that, but not yet sweety. No, you need say ‘Delilah’… understand?” 

Ryan nodded. 

“Good boy. I promise, after this you’ll never have to leave my breasts again if you dont want to.” She said softly as she reluctantly let him go, placing him on the ground at her feet as a pair of show assistants arrived to interrupt their alone time. “You can spend every day in my tits and breathing in mommy’s special smell. In fact, we’ll make more of it. I bet other mommies would love to use it, and other boys would love if their mommies smelled like me. Oh yes… you’ll be my little helper…” 

She slowly readjusted her top to partially hide her glistening chest from the cameras, but ensured to dip her fingers into her cleavage as a final tantalising promise. 

“In fact maybe you can help mommy design all kinds of new things to make other boys happy… doesn’t that sound nice?” 

Ryan wobbled unsteadily on his feet, his vision swimming as the wall of the maze came down behind them and he was led away from Delilah and back to the main stage. His head was so fuzzy… he couldn’t remember what she had been saying. It must have been those tits of her, so big… he must have gotten lost in them. 

Yet something itched at the back of his mind, subtly working its way into his subconscious. When he closed his eyes to shake his head clear, all he could see in his mind’s eye were Delilah’s massive tits… and all he could think of was her name. 

***

When at last Delilah emerged with her charge, Ryan was practically beside himself. Flushed red with embarassment and seeming beyond exhausted in his own right. He still had a dazed, dreamy smile on his lips and swayed a little unsteadily on his feet. It seemed that if it were not for Delilah’s firm hand on his shoulder he would collapse like a rag doll onto the ground. 

Olga seemed to set aside her showmanship somewhat, adopting a gentler, more maternal tone. 

“Well Ryan, we all thank you so much for coming on the show. Everybody is so proud of you. We all would love to take you home with us. You deserve to be happy, content, loved, as all males do… Now, though, it’s time for our final round.” She lifted his chin up with a fingertip to meet her gaze. Those eyes, though, gleamed with wicked intent, in contast to her words. “The Wheel.”

The crowd roared back to life, and a massive vertical wheel was revealed from behind a deep burgundy curtain. While it was around the same height as the women in attendance, it dwarfed the smaller guy by nearly twice his height. 

Adorned with the images of the four women in attendance, it was divided into four. 

“Now Ryan, you must choose who you want to go home with tonight. Who will claim ownership of you, take care of you… forever.”

Ryan eyed the wheel nervously, stammering.

“B-but…”

“Ah, it’s okay to be nervous. Most males are by now. They get so frightened at such big changes in their lives… but deep down all good boys know its up to women to make big choices for them, right? Big important decisions can’t be left to boys who don’t know what’s best for themselves. However, this woman is going to be the one who makes those decisions for you from now on - so you have to choose who that will be.”

Confused, Ryan again tried to speak, but Olga merely continued. 

“Of course, if you don’t make your choice in time… the Wheel will decide for you.”

The audience jeered, screaming in glee. 

“Take your time Ryan. You have until the Wheel stops spinning to make your choice.”

With that, not taking her eyes off Ryan for a moment, she grasped a rung on the wheel and spun the massive construction with the inhuman strength of her kind. 

Lights flashed as the 30 feet tall monolith began to spin, and exciting music began to play, celebrating Ryan’s imminent doom. The crowd went nuts, each shouting out a different name. 

Ryan panicked, but had nowhere to go. He looked from the audience, to Olga, finding no respite in either. Merely the gleaming toothy smiles of women more than eager to see him enslaved to one of the four women standing behind him. 

Shakily, he turned on the spot to look at the four. Each now did everything in their power to make their last attempt at seducing the boy who was now so close to being within their clutches. 

Sam batted her eyelashes at him, running her hands across her shapely body. Stacy, by contrast, stood out so as to show off her athletic tone as much as possible. Rachel let a smile play across her lips as she merely pointed down to the floor in front of her, a very clear ‘come here’ order. 

Delilah, though, merely grinned at Ryan. As he caught her gaze, he found himself once again struggling to look away from her… and of course, his gaze naturally fell to her utterly incomprehensible rack. 

“It’s slowing down Ryan…” Olga teased, leaning down as far as she could to bring her face next to his. The camera zoomed in on him now as he turned his attention back to the wheel. 

The lights had begun to flash slower, and the ticking of the wheel as it span began to come further and further between. The rapid beat grinding to a halt in time with the rotating structure itself. 

Unable to process the sheer panicked emotions he felt in that moment, he almost broke down where he stood. Tears welled in his eyes. Forced to choose to whom he surrendered every ounce of his livelihood, to decide who would control him utterly from then on - mind, body, heart and soul - was a choice no man could make. 

Yet he had to choose, or the choice would be made for him. His tears slowed as a grim resignation seemed to take hold. After all, as Olga had made clear, this might be the last chance he ever got to make a choice for himself. 

As the wheel slowed to a halt, it’s sounds died away. Tick… tick… … tick … 

David rushed forwards at the last moment, eyes closed, not knowing what he was doing. Not caring. Was it a bid for escape? A choice made in protest? Or a blind roll of the dice?

The audience, Olga, David and the maids, and perhaps even Ryan didn’t know. 

The only one who did was the woman who, smiling, embraced the boy as he ran headfirst into her thick, womanly body. 

Ryan’s heart was pounding so hard, with so much adrenaline pumping through him, that he didn’t hear anything at first. A distant roar like waves crashing on rocks slowly faded in as his face, hot and wet from tears, began to feel the warmth against it. 

It was the audience roaring in approval. And that heat was the bodily warmth coming from between the thighs of the woman who was now for all intents and purposes his owner. 

Delilah grinned ominously down at him, and Ryan wilted. 

“WE HAVE A WINNER!” Olga screamed in joy, as sirens wailed and lights flashed. 

The audience were on their feet, applauding and cheering mightily. Yet behind it all, Sam, Stacy and Rachel clapped happily as Delilah lifted Ryan up off his feet and pressed him to her chest. 

“Thank you all so much for watching! We hope you’ll join us all again tomorrow, when another lucky boy is gifted into the hands of a very lucky woman… forever.”

Olga fixed the camera with a determined grin at that. Behind her, David thought he saw Delilah begin to part her clothes, and he squirmed in his seat at what he knew was about to befall that boy. The woman’s lips moved as she di so, and he was almost sure what she had said was: 

“Now you’re mine.”