Number Six Ch. 8

Some time later, David was staring at the ceiling, lost with his thoughts and nothing else to focus on. He ran it around in his head over and over. Immersion therapy. What could it be? What fresh torment did they have in store for him to try to break his will at last?

The longer he was left to wait, the more nervous he became. 

He knew that was what they wanted. It still worked. 

However, after long enough spent in a state heightened anxiety, inevitably it faded. With no way to track time his mind wandered from the imminent. Slowly he tricked himself into thinking it must be a long time coming, or perhaps it would be tomorrow. It was a foolish thought. He had no way to know when tomorow would be, or what time of the day it was. 

After what could have been an hour or half a day, he had managed to convince himself that they weren’t coming for him at all. A little while after that and he had convinced himself that it had all been a big misunderstanding, and he’d be going home soon. 

Then the door opened. 

David huddled in fear, unsure what awaited him, but Nurse Abby merely gently tugged him from the bed and settled him against her. She pressed his face into her breasts as she lifted him up and squeezed, before putting the dazed boy back down a little while later.

“A lot of boys are nervous about immersion therapy. But I promise, every boy learns to love it eventually.” Nurse Abby said, and squeezed his hand reassuringly as she led him down the hallway. Somehow, it had the opposite effect. Nurse Bella closed the door behind them, and they soon had him marching in lockstep. 

They arrived at another door, like all the others the same shade of pink and unremarkable. 

Nurse Abby opened it and ushered David in. Whatever reluctance he had was swiftly swept aside, quite literally, as a pair of thighs almost wider than his arms could stretch filled the gap behind him - shutting the door. 

With her back to them was, he presumed, Doctor Roxanne. She was preparing something, pulling open one plastic package after another. 

“Come on in, Abby.” She said without looking up, before turning to face them. “This must be David. I’m Doctor Roxanne.”

The doctor was, as he had come to expect, simply massive. With fiery red hair and glassy pale skin, many freckles dotted her face. Rosy cheeks accompanied a friendly smile. 

“H-hi.” He mumbled out, filling the silence with awkward politeness. 

She seemed pleased by something, but he wasn’t sure what. 

“I believe this is your first time undergoing immersion therapy?”

“Yes, his first time.” Nurse Abby answered for him. 

The doctor turned to fetch something and came back with a small paper cup which compared to her size was practically miniature. 

“This medicine is part of the procedure, David.” She said, holding the cup just in front of his mouth. 

When he looked to Abby, she merely nodded.

He parted his lips slightly and took an experimental sip, but Doctor Roxanne merely kept tilting the cup up further until he had emptied it. 

“Very good, David. Now, you’ll probably start to feel the effects soon, so we should get started.”

She stood back from him as Nurse Abby held him by the shoulder, his constant minder. Under her grip, David stretched his arm. It felt oddly stiff. No, rather a little numb. He reasoned he must have been lying on it in his bed, as a faint tingle ran down the length. 

“David, come stand next to me.” She said softly, running her hands up and down the curvature of her hips. 

Abby patted his shoulder and walked him forwards. Each step felt heavy and sluggish, his nerves showing clearly. 

No… it was more than that. It was getting difficult to walk. His hands felt so heavy, too…

“Yes, that’s good. He’s about ready.” Doctor Roxanne said passively. 

“It’s his first time, so which method are you thinking?” Nurse Abby inquired with equal dispassion, as if asking about what flavour of juice the Doctor intended to order at a restaurant. 

“Oh, face out for his first time I think. Face in is a bit overwhelming sometimes for a first timer.”

David went from tugging at Nurse Abby’s hand idly, trying to free himself from her grip, to hanging from it. He found is whole body weighed a bit more than it should, and it was getting to be a struggle just to stay upright. Yet he was swiftly distracted from this by the sound of a zipper. 

Doctor Roxanne had begun to unzip her blouse. Each little movement sent her colossal breasts jiggling with each release of tension, the material spreading further and further apart as each globe pushed further and further out. Soon, with very little effort, she parted the material and slid it off her shoulders, exhaling in relief. Working the soft looking material down her body, it seemed very elastic, stretching easily to encompass her every fascinating curve, but hugging every crease, filling every gap. 

He tried to look away, embarrassed by her sudden nudity, but Nurse Abby merely tutted while gently turning his cheek with her fingers. 

“Now David, you know this is part of your treatment. You shouldn’t be ashamed to look at a naked woman. It’s perfectly natural for a boy to find a woman like Doctor Roxanne beautiful.”

“I find it very flattering when boys stare at me, David.” Doctor Roxanne said sweetly. “I love knowing the effect I have on their horny little minds.”

He kept his eyes stubbornly averted, resisting the temptation to stare at her prodigious nude body. However, it was the effect she was having on his body he was more concerned with. It was growing difficult to move his limbs. 

“I don’t… feel…” he murmured, but his lips didn’t feel right. It felt a little like he’d had anesthetic from the dentist, they wouldn’t move the way he wanted. 

“Don’t worry David, it’s all part of your therapy.” Doctor Roxanne said sweetly, eyes lidded as she watched his reactions closely.

At last, David looked at her naked body… and saw she was wearing something under her blouse. Something he recognised. He had seen it on the TV before. 

“The medicine will make it easier for us to fit you. Try not to struggle, David.” Doctor Roxanne said with a sultry tone, and reached out towards him. 

Several straps around her thighs, her waist, and under her bra immediately revealed to David what immersion therapy was. Nurse Abby guided him forwards, but his feet merely dragged across the floor. It wasn’t due to him trying to stay still, however, it was because the limbs just wouldn’t respond. 

The medicine had rendered his body limp, he realised with cold horror. 

With utter ease, given his already far weaker form was now rendered entirely immobile, Nurse Abby and Doctor Roxanne were able to lift her breasts up and fit his arms in underneath them - snugly strapping them to her bra. His head disappeared inside the material with just a whimper, and he was gone, head smothered within two massive mammaries. 

Creamy white skin enveloped his head on all sides, and as she allowed her breasts to rest, their mass soon sank down to cover his shoulders, wrapping around his upper body as their sheer mass collided and he became nothing more than a boy-shaped imprint between them. 

At last, he felt the strap around her waist encompassing his own, before those on her thighs encircled his ankles. Even if he could have moved a muscle, he doubted she would have even felt it. 

“Very good. Such a good boy, isn’t he Abby?”

“Oh you have no idea.”

“I’m sure I will soon.”

The pair cackled at that. 

“Now Abby, pass the bandages please.”

Bandages? David’s mind reeled within his fleshy prison, every breath coming thick and heavy in the midst of her cleavage. 

He felt something silky soft begin to encircle his calf, before it moved up to his thigh. He realised that Abby was effectively mummifying him, wrapping bandages around Doctor Roxanne’s own massive legs and his in turn, until what little of him remained visible was smoothed over by the material. 

“Perfect.” Doctor Roxanne said with relish, and through the bandages David felt her lifting her clothing back up, the elastic material hugging her form just as tightly as before - and sliding effortlessly over his bandaged legs. 

From the outside, there would have been almost no evidence David was buried beneath her clothes, sandwiched between her massive tits. For all intents and purposes he was effectively entombed within her breasts. 

“Now, David. This is called Immersion Therapy.” 

He could hear her voice reverberating through her chest. Her voice sounded so loud… and yet so calm. It came from every direction at once. 

“I’m sure you’re quite nervous, every boy is their first time, but I assure you, you could not be safer.”

Safe? David wanted to scream, but even if he wasn’t buried between her colossal cleavage he doubted anyone would be able to hear him. Even so, he couldn’t move a muscle. Indeed he wasn’t sure if he’d even notice once the drugs wore off, since he couldn’t move at all regardless. 

“This treatment is intended to help you get over your fear of touch, David. You need to learn that it’s natural for women to touch boys like you.”

With that, she reached down with a single hand and ran it up his mummified form through her clothing.

“Now you’re in constant contact with my body. Immersed in it. See?”

Her body heat radiated through him. His back felt so warm, and the faint glisten of her body sweat felt oddly cool against his skin. 

“This treatment will help you become used to constant physical contact, and in time, help you to learn your place. We know you want to be a good boy, David.”

She gently patted his stomach as she spoke, reinforcing her words with gentle touch. Yet David was neither able nor willing to listen. He was reeling within his prison, motionless, unable to express his absolute perturbation in any meaningful way. Unable to exert himself at all. Trapped within a prison of his own body, or more accurately, her body. 

He felt Doctor Roxanne moving, but his numb legs barely felt the change. Aside from the gentle tremors shaking her soft, forgiving form, her soft breasts gently pressing in against him on all sides with each delicate step she took, he could feel nothing of the outside. His legs were embedded into her massive, fatty thighs under the bandages and within that indent he felt nothing but the contact of her skin. 

For a while his breathing came short and sharp as he was overwhelmed by the sheer sensation, or lack thereof. Every inch of his body was smothered in her soft and womanly flesh, the scent of her body permeated every breath he took, cloying against his skin. 

At first in his panicked state, each breath coming quickly in the close atmosphere of his cleavage coffin, it had felt like drowning. As her pliable flesh had pressed in to envelop every inch of him, clinging to his neck, it felt like a rising tide reaching up to smother him as his body was held utterly immobile. 

It didn’t take long before his near total sensory deprivation was skewing his already warped sense of time. How long had he been bound inside these bandages, buried between these massive heavenly tits? It felt like only minutes… and yet even more so than in the endless pink hallways he was utterly devoid of any sense of time passing. 

He didn’t know how long it took, but in spite of himself, he felt himself growing more calm. The gentle undulations of her pillowy body, surrounding him on all sides, was like the gentle lapping of waves. A tide of flesh pressing in, squeezing his entire body gently, over and over.

With nothing to focus on but his own breathing, it slowed. All he could hear for now was Doctor Roxanne’s heartbeat, a gentle throb in his ears, and the steady rhythm was a soothing source of stability. It was constant.

He felt, rather than heard, Doctor Roxanne sitting down somewhere. For a few moments he waited, his ears straining, but nothing followed. For minutes he floated within a sea of bosomy flesh, his senses reaching out for any sensation at all, but none came.

 A kind of sophorific warmth spread through him from the heavy breasts holding him mummified and wrapped against her body. When he feebly tried to push against the soft walls around him, they easily smothered his efforts and sprang back to contain him. He quickly exhausted his limited strength, and soon the warmth and heat began to fray at the edges of his mind, slowly sapping his already exhausted form. 

It was frustrating, and yet… some part of him was feeling so calm. For the first time since he had arrived he didn’t have anything to focus on at all. It was plainly obvious to him that there was nothing he could do, and ever so slowly his anxiety was seeping away. 

His worries and cares suddenly felt so futile. So foolish. What did it matter? It felt laughable to be concerned given his situation. There was nothing he could do about any of it anyway. 

Her soft, forgiving breasts, each larger than his body by far, were pressed in so tightly around him. It felt so oddly soothing. Knowing he couldn’t do anything meant he didn’t have to worry about doing anything… and so he didn’t. He could just relax. Whether he had elected his prison or not, he could enjoy the comfort of it. 

It no longer felt like drowning. It felt like floating.

For the first time in what felt like months… years maybe, he found to his shock he was utterly devoid of concerns. He didn’t have to worry right now. He didn’t have to care about anything. 

It felt good. 

Hell, there was no denying that his deeply rooted male psyche was, against all of his higher instincts, deeply enjoying the full-body titjob he was the unwilling recipient of. Indeed, his arousal had grown swiftly behind his rapidly diminishing concerns.

While he didn’t want to admit it to himself, he was growing more annoyed by his bondage due to his inability to reach down and truly enjoy the experience more than his inability to free himself. 

He kept his eyes closed, after all he couldn’t see anything with them open. In the darkness, flashes of colour danced across his vision. It was soothing. Mesmerising. His head lolled to the side, resting against the soft warm skin of his prison which eagerly swallowed up his face. Despite everything, he couldn’t hold back a little smile at the comforting softness he found there. He was warm and content, and as immeasurable time stretched out, his breathing and heartbeat slowly began to match that of his captor. 

Without even realising he’d been doing it, he felt his fingers and toes wiggling. Aside from his head they were the only part of him not tightly bound to his captor’s body. Whatever medicine he’d drunk had evidently begun to wear off… but he paid it little mind. 

What did it matter, really? He asked himself. It’s not like you could free yourself. If you could where would you go? Do you think these doctors and nurses would just let you leave? You might as well just relax. 

So he did. Every inch of his body, bar the obvious few, was relaxing. He felt himself sink slightly into the body of Doctor Roxanne, what little tension remaining in him dissolving at last, as he began to luxuriate in the feeling of her body around him. He breathed in the warm air and let out a contented sigh.

Doctor Roxanne seemed to notice the change. Perhaps she could sense the lack of tension given his physical closeness, or perhaps she was simply so adept at this treatment by now she could just tell. 

“Very good, David. I can feel you calming down. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to touch a woman’s body, and you can drink your fill of me. Mmmm… maybe after your treatment I’ll ask Doctor Amme if I can administer your feeding myself. Would you like that?”

With a slight giggle, she admonished herself. 

“I know you can’t answer. Even if you could, boys are rarely honest with themselves during their treatment. That’s okay, though, I know a good way to interpret what a boy really wants.”

He felt her hand suddenly running up his thigh, until her fingertips were grasping the faint bulge of his straining cock just below the head.

“Now… would you like me to feed you after your treatment, David?”

He felt a renewed sense of urgency, realising her game. He bit his lip, struggling not to respond the way she wanted him to - but it was hopeless. 

“Do you want me to nestle you in my lap, and bring you to my breast… and nurse you, David?”

Her fingertips maliciously began to run up and down, ever so faintly, just under his corona. Despite his best efforts, his cock throbbed mightily at the mental picture she was painting in his mind. 

“Oh I think that’s a yes…” She giggled again.

Despite having the answer she wanted, her stroking didn’t stop, but she didn’t pick up the pace either. She just teasingly ran her finger tips over his most sensitive spot, again and again at a glacial pace. After a while she’d change her grip, use her fingernails to tickle the head or stroke the length, always at an achingly slow pace.

“Something else you need to learn, David, is that it is natural for you to be aroused. It’s natural for women to touch you, David. It’s healthy and normal for your penis to be touched, stroked, tickled, teased, sucked…”

Her lascivious words were driving him nuts, and yet he was unable to respond in any way. He wanted to deny what she was saying, groaning, mumbling his rejections into her massive cleavage, but if she felt it she gave no sign. Instead, she chose to interpret his traitorous cock’s throbs as his reply.

“Oh yes, I can tell you like that idea. You’re just confused, David. You have too many worries in that little head of yours. That’s why you need a Mommy to milk all those silly thoughts out of you.”

She squeezed her fingertips just below the head of his cock and began to rapidly stroke just the head, sending the boy imprisoned in her tits into a series of tiny little squirms which amidst her cleavage became barely perceptable twitches. 

Doctor Roxanne loved nothing more than having a boy strapped to her like this, squeezing him between her monumental tits. Nothing gave her such a rush as crushing any hopes or dreams he had of a life of independence under the weight of her almighty breasts. To her the act had a philosophical meaning which only made the act all the more pleasurable to her. As did what she had planned next. 

She reached down with her other hand under David to find the source of her own arousal. Her palm settled over his cock as her fingers bent back beneath him, and began to circle her own depths. 

His arousal, his sexual bliss was a by-product of her own - as it should be. She loved to give boys pleasure, she loved to make them cum - almost as much as she loved giving it to herself. 

Cooing softly, she paid little heed to the boy trapped within the folds of her body as she fondled her own. Every slightly manipulation of her own sex meant her hand rubbed across his cock. Yet her goal was her own pleasure, not his. This would go at her pace - something David would have to begin to accept.

Making no effort to disguise her arousal, she ensured her groans of bliss echoed into the poor boy’s deprived mind. Now in addition to the thump of her heart he could hear her increasingly laboured breath and the fluttering moans which accompanied the shuddering of her body all around him. 

The movements of her hand across his cock were electric, and he struggled to push himself up into her touch, to take some control of his own pleasure - only to find it impossible. Not only was her touch delicate and imprecise, it was at a pace he had no control over. His frustration grew and grew, until a tear formed in his eye. He screamed into the suffocating valley of tits which surrounded his head on all sides, but even if she could have heard him he doubted she would have cared. 

Doctor Roxanne was plunging her fingers into herself now, riding her own fingers as they curled inside her and pressed back and forth across her most sensitive spot. As she grinded up and down, she in turn rode David’s cock against her hand. As a facsimile of thrusting which was a relief to the poor lad who had had to endure her extended teasing and a chorus of womanly moans. 

Yet with every wanton thrust of her fingers, the rising crescendo of her arousal was the only sensation David knew. His own arousal seemed to melt into that of Doctor Roxanne’s. He felt almost as if he were a part of her, and he felt her pleasure, rather than his own. 

His cock strained at its bindings, desperate for release, and David would have given anything in that moment to be free. 

Only then at the height of his desperation did it truly hit him. He had no control here. There was nothing he could do. Even if he had been free, he had no control regardless. He had had none since he had entered the hospital, and indeed, had had none before. It had only been an illusion. His life was a gilded cage. His dreams of freedom were flights of fancy. 

Doctor Roxanne pressed hard, grinding her palm into his cock, and David choked on his own sexual bliss. It was all so clear. He wasn’t in control and never would be. He just let go. 

Suddenly it all felt so much easier. 

The cresting of his orgasm was almost painful, with only the sounds of Doctor Roxanne’s intimate throes to drive him on. Yet when it came it seared through his consciousness, the sheer gravity of it, the inevitability of it, hit him with a force that shook him to his core. 

Doctor Roxanne doubled over in pleasure, pressing her tits in as tightly as she could in the process, and screamed in ecstasy. Shivering, shuddering, she heaved and twitched in the aftershocks of a colossal climax. 

For a while she merely lay there, basking in the glow of her own sexual release, feeling the boy bound helplessly to her squirming desperately. She slowly, gently, ran her hands over the top of her clothes, caressing David’s bound form possessively. Nothing made her cum like knowing there was a boy trapped within her bodice, desperate for release. 

Delicately, she massaged his cock, and felt his stiffness softening - albeit not entirely. Boys didn’t always cum when she did that. Sometimes it was better to leave them on edge for a while. Sometimes the feeling of her body against them would set them off.

She just loved the control. The feeling of knowing they were utterly at her mercy. Knowing from the outside nobody would even know he was in there - although the other staff were all too aware. 

“Roxanne, hi.” Came a voice from nearby. 

David barely registered it in his sweaty prison, her breasts clinging to his face. 

“Oh hi Sarah.” Doctor Roxanne made no effort to disguise her recent sexual escapades, she may have kept going even with an audience in fact. 

“How’s your day been?” The voice came again, from closer now.

“Mmmmm… marvellous.” The raw, viscous sexuality dripping from her tongue. 

“I can tell.” The voice, Sarah, sounded closer now. “I think I might have to find a spot to myself soon. I’ve been on teasing duty all day and seeing the boys get so excited… mmm, fuck. I can’t help myself. Every time their cocks spring up at the sight of me it makes my heart flutter. When I walk into one of their rooms and they immediately get hard…”

“It’s association. They’ve come to associate your presence with sex.”

“Yes. I think I’m close to proving my theory. Daily conditioning, ensuring their arousal in my presence, I’m pretty sure even just looking at a picture of me would be enough to get them hard soon.”

“Sounds like a fun test.”

“Hmmm. It does, doesn’t it…”

The pair chatted as if David wasn’t even there. In a way, he wasn’t. Totally invisible under Doctor Roxanne’s garb, buried within the avalanche of her tits, he was practically invisible. 

That said, he felt that even if he had been sat there beside them, he would still have been an after thought. Not ignored, but simply not relevant, like a child at the dinner table. They were talking about things that were above him. 

Wincing, somehow that didn’t feel right. They shouldn’t be ignoring him, but they were. That was normal, though, right? Doctor Valnurana had said so. Hadn’t she? This was normal. All of it. 

A gentle touch at his now semi-erect cock made David take a sharp breath. Someone was stroking him. Yet their conversation didn’t stop. 

“So what method are you using?”

“Oh, the Pulawski grip. It drives them nuts, especially when they’re already desperate to cum. Just holding their head, peeling back their foreskin… and then letting go. Oh I do love watching their faces. The way they rock their heads back and forth, as if they can get away, its like they’re begging and pleading with the universe that somehow the next touch will be different…”

“How delightful!”

At that, the fingers on his cock began to emulate what was being discussed. They ran down over his head, and then just let go, with no satisfying upwards stroke. 

“Mmmm. You can see the hope in their eyes. That pleading stare. Every time I stroke down, they think that this time surely she’s going to keep going, this time she’ll stroke me properly…”

The pair were quiet. 

“But I never do!”

They erupted in giggles, and for a moment, David’s entire world shook as Doctor Roxanne’s massive breasts jiggled around him. 

“Oh Sarah, you’re so evil.”

“All part of their treatment. They need to learn that they’re not in control.”

“Quite right. It’s only what’s best for them.”

“Not my fault if I enjoy it.”

They giggled again, and David felt his vision swimming in the sea of titflesh shaking around him. 

Their conversation continued for some time, David’s cock never short of attention, with a tickle or touch always a few moments away. Yet all the while he lay there, trapped, his arousal plateauing and never fading, he felt an odd sense of calm come over him. Somewhere beneath the endless torment there was peace in knowing he could do nothing about it. 

The conversation between the two women faded into background noise as his sense of touch slowly overtook all of his other senses. His body, so desperate for stimulation of any kind, now focused on the one source of external stimulus it had. 

His poor, tired mind was utterly defenceless against the merciless teasing assault upon his mummified cock. 

That very notion, the utter futility of resistance, so thoroughly embedded itself within his mind as to overlap all other thoughts. Not only was it useless to fight back at that moment, it had been from the moment he’d realised the truth of the world. 

In fact he was slowly beginning to accept, deep down in a quiet part of his mind, that it always would be pointless to fight it. Pointless to resist. 

A slight smile creeping across Doctor Roxanne’s face was the only sign that she felt the steadily growing wet patch atop her waist where David’ was trapped, exhaling slightly in satisfaction that her prisoner had now ejaculated twice against his will. 

There was nothing he could do… he was just there to feel pleasure.

*****

David wasn’t sure how long he spent in there. It could have been an entire day, perhaps longer, or as little as an hour. Nor was he quite sure how many times he came. He was fairly certain he had drifted in and out of consciousness during his internment between that immense pair of breasts larger than himself. During fleeting flashes of consciousness he was dimly aware that the stimulation of his cock hadn’t ceased, and his fitful dreams had been lurid to say the least. 

While he was fairly certain other people may have come into the room at some point, it all bled together in his memory as he had floated on a cloud of simultaneous total sensation and deprivation.

When he awoke the first thing he noticed was how cold he was. He shivered involuntarily, opening his eyes weakly as he was blinded by light. As his vision slowly cleared though he saw the smiling face of doctor Roxanne not far from his, evidently having noticed his rousing. 

The room was still, silent. The air felt so close. David winced. It felt like he’d awoken from the longest and most satisfying rest of his life, in the most comfortable place he’d ever been, and now he was exposed to the outside world once more his silken clothing and sheets suddenly felt like sandpaper against his skin.

“Hey there sleepy head, I’m sure you’re thirsty. Most boys are after immersion therapy.” She smiled as she reached a hand down across her naked body to pull on a hardening nipple until a bead of white appeared at the tip. 

David opened his mouth to protest, almost instinctually, but no words would come. He felt his dry and chapped lips crack open and a small cough came from his parched throat. The sauna of her unimaginably close tits had no doubt left him dehydrated. He was hardly in a position, either mentally or physically, to turn her offer down. 

Smiling, she pulled his unresisting form closer to her as she sat by his bed, leading him to her breast. He drank like a man dying of thirst, the thick, creamy milk so satisfying to his parched lips and coated his dry throat in cloying wet sweetness. 

Soundlessly, and without complaint, he obedienty drank from her breast. A cool hand touched his cheek and he sighed. Doctor Roxanne was content to just give him his space, it seemed. His utter supplication to her bosomy domination had satisfied her for now. 

A familiar lethargy came over him as he drank. That fuzzy, cottony feeling that spread from his tummy to fog his mind and tingle at his finger tips and toes. The scratchy feeling of his satiny smooth clothing lessened as he sated his all-consuming thirst. 

It was obvious to him now that it wasn’t just normal thirst. He wasn’t just thirsty. Water would have done nothing for him. He needed milk. Cream. His stomach groaned for it, desperate for just one more drop of their liquid bliss, and his mind rolled in a creamy white ocean as he drank. It soothed not just his body, but his thoughts. His worries drowned out in the sheer delicious chemical cocktail their milk released in his mind. 

Yet he didn’t care. Or rather, he simply didn’t feel the urge to care anymore. Neither did he have the strength to. In that moment all he cared about was the soft press of her breast, the pillowy flesh against his face, the sweet succour of her milk. The intoxicating feeling her milk gave him made it so much easier to just ride the waves of hair-bristling euphoria. 

All he wanted was to feel like this forever.

When Doctor Roxanne saw David’s vapid smile and felt his suckling slow to an eventually stop, she couldn’t help but grin herself. For a little while she just enjoyed one of the many perks of her position, a slight shiver travelling through her as she luxuriated in the warm feeling she got from warping a younger man’s mind with her body. The feeling his slow descent into silent obeisance physically developing before her eyes was almost orgasmic in and of itself. 

At length, she quietly called in Nurse Bella to take the comatose and milk-sapped young lad back to his room. As he left, she felt a sudden emptiness as she often did. She had taken this job so she could spend as much time as possible entombing boys against her flesh, but she always had to let them go eventually. She dreamed one day of having a boy of her own and locking him away forever, never letting him see the sun, only her. 

She collected herself, straightening her uniform and her hair, before walking down the hall to her next assignment. A new group of men from the breakaway colonies had been brought in and they were in need of softening before being assigned to a handler. The emptiness was replaced with a clutching need, and she was deeply looking forward to meeting these new boys. 

She loved her job.