Archive-author: Ruth White
Archive-title: Guinea Pig, The - 7-13
Part 2 of the continuing adventures of Joe Watson
Two large attendants entered Joe's room. The larger of the two
men motioned for Joe to get up. "Come. Bath." He said.
Joe stared at him. "What."
Having been instructed in his native tongue to compel instant
obedience. The man slapped Joe's face so violently that Joe cried.
Having learned his first lesson, Joe painfully maneuvered his
body to where the attendants could help him out of bed and walk him
to the bathroom. He noticed that the bathroom was austere and
lacked a mirror.
While bathing under the observation of one of the attendants,
Joe noticed the curious lack of hair on his body. "Oh well. It'll
grow back," he thought.
After poking himself with his new fingernails a couple of
times, he learned to move slowly and carefully. He went to wash his
hair. "So they shaved my head too."
While washing his face he found out about his peculiar lack of
eyebrows. After he had dried off Joe was handed what looked like a
standard green hospital gown. It was different from the normal
hospital gown in two respects. It was made of silk instead of the
normal cotton, pulled over the head rather than tying up the back,
and fell to mid thigh.
Joe was able to return to bed unassisted. Walking back, he
noticed unaccustomed pressure on his feet and tension in his calf
While Joe had been in the bath, the other attendant had been
making up his bed. Joe discovered that the new sheets and pillow
cases were slinky and slippery.
"Well I'll be," he thought. "Satin sheets. At least they go
first class here."
Joe began to relax. Now that feeling had returned to his body,
he took stock of himself. The stiffness and soreness had been
reduced by the hot bath. There was a odd itching sensation at
various points on his body. He probed his hips and buttocks were
the feeling was concentrated. Nothing seemed wrong. He scratched
his chest which also itched. He touched a nipple that was swollen
and sensitive. Pulling out the front of his gown he observed that
his nipples were enlarged. Further investigation disclosed the
presence of a hard lump in each breast.
"Probably a reaction to some new drug they're testing on me,"
thought Joe. "Just my luck, they're probably looking for a cure for
One of the attendants returned with a food tray. After setting
a table in place over Joe's bed, he put the tray on it and left.
The smell of the food reminded Joe that he was ravenous. Opening
the plates he discovered an abundance of food. He found that he had
to adjust his handling of utensils to compensate for his long
fingernails. Still, he dug in with abandon. Pancakes with syrup,
eggs, bacon, milk, and orange juice. He ate it all and sated, Joe
relaxed and was soon asleep.
Dr. van Damme and Dave Weinstein, her behavior modification
specialist, watched the sleeping man on the monitor in her office.
"So, we are acclimating him to the feel of materials such as
silk and satin on his skin." Asked Dr. van Damme.
"Yes Doctor. The texture can sometimes produce a emotion of
resistance in a male. His subconscious knows that the cloth is
typical of female garb and objects because of the inconsistency
with his masculinity. By establishing the initial contact with such
textiles in a non-threatening environment, the male accepts their
presence and eventually regards them as normal."
"Thank you Dave. Keep me appraised of his progress."
Joe sat up in bed watching television. He was wearing an
athletic shirt and boxer shorts. So what if they were red and soft.
Besides, it was all they gave him.
Any woman, though, would have recognized what Joe was wearing;
a satin camisole and tap pants set. And they weren't red, they were
fuchsia. A distinction that Joe wasn't aware of, yet.
Joe finished his candy bar and drank the last of his
soda,thinking. "I shouldn't be eating all this junk food. I'll get
Joe was getting fat, but that didn't bother him too deeply.
What did was the way it was being distributed around his body. He
couldn't view himself in a mirror, but he could comprehend that his
ass was getting fat and so were his hips. He couldn't see any
increase in his waistline though. Indeed, it seemed to be getting
thinner, so he didn't let it worry him.
Joe's nipples were another story, they had continued to swell.
The increase in their size was evident under his gown. The red
areas around the nipples had expanded to the size of a half-dollar
while the hard lumps on his chest had softened and were expanding.
Dr. van Damme entered the room on one of her infrequent
visits. "And how are we today Mr. Watson?"
"I, ... am fine."
"Excellent. Please be so good as to get out of bed."
Aware that his attendants were at most a call away, Joe
hastened to do her bidding.
"Get undressed and put these on." She directed.
Not daring to disobey, Joe doffed his clothing and took that
which she offered. "These" were a matching gown and robe. No
pretense was offered to disguise their feminine style. The gown was
blue satin and was edged in lace on the hem, and bodice. The robe
matched the gown. It tied at the waist and fell to his knees.
"We're going for a walk Joe."
"But, Doctor, I have had trouble walking ever since that
doctor worked on my feet."
At this Dr. van Damme produced two items. "Here. These should
help you walk easier."
Joe was speechless. she had given him two tiny high heeled
shoes. There wasn't much to them. Just a satin strap across the
instep with some fluff attached.
"They are called mules Joe. Sit down."
Joe sat and Dr. van Damme placed the mules on his feet. She
was not surprised to find them a perfect fit.
Joe noticed that his feet felt relaxed and natural in them. He
stood up. After an initial shakiness, he managed to walk around
fairly easily. "Wow. My feet feel so much better in these things."
"It seems Joe, that when the doctor modified your feet to
accommodate high heels, that he made it difficult, if not
impossible, for you to walk barefoot for any great distance or
stand for any length of time. Your feet now need the support these
type of shoes provide so you'd better get used to wearing them. Now
follow me please."
As he walked Joe appreciated the way the shoes made his feet
more comfortable. In addition, due to his insecurity about his
height, he liked the fact that they made him taller.
"When I get out of here, I'm going to buy some elevator
shoes," he thought.
Joe followed the Doctor to an empty room where he was told to
strip and lay down on the bed. She returned and gave him a small
glass of a bitter clear liquid to drink. Joe immediately felt
"What happens now Doc? Gonna let me in on your big plan?"
"Yes, perhaps it is time Joe. You might recall that I said
that we were going to change your appearance and personality."
"Yes, I remember."
"Well we are using you as a test subject for many new drugs
and processes which will reduce suffering in many diverse groups of
people. You are, you might say, a human guinea pig. Unlike many
test animals though, when we are done with you, you will be well
taken care of for the rest of your life. Which, I might add, due to
the nature of some of the experiments may turn out to be abnormally
"In addition to those experiments, in order to fulfill our
contract with your wife, we have put many changes into effect on
your appearance and now we start on your personality."
Seeming to float above reality, Joe giggled. "So what exactly
is it you're changing me into?"
"That's the fun part Joe, and also your punishment. In the
past you have displayed an attraction for large breasted blonde
women that borders on compulsion. I believe, therefore, that you
will be pleased to know that you will soon be joining their ranks.
My only hope is that your new form will provide you with as much
enjoyment as those of your playmates did."
Finding this hilarious for some reason. Joe continued to
giggle as he drifted off into unconsciousness.
Joe's inanimate form lay on a platform surrounded by many
pieces of complex machinery. Countless wires ran from the apparatus
to points all over his body. His head from the throat up was
enclosed in a sealed container from which the top of his bald head
projected. Inside, Joe's unconscious eyes stared blankly into the
An incision was made around the crown of Joe's scalp, which
was then peeled back to reveal his skull. A precision micro-saw
then cut a circle through the bone. The bone was carefully removed
revealing Joe's brain. A team of surgeons spent some time
implanting a mesh of fine wires in Joe's cerebellum.
The leader explained their actions. "What we are doing here is
connecting the subject's brain for a function plot using resonance
mapping. An external impulse is applied to the body, or suggested
to the subconscious, the brain responds. This point is then plotted
on a three dimensional map, and stored in computer memory. This is
not new technology, it has existed for at least ten years. The
notable accomplishment here, is this; knowing where the function
signals the brain, we now can duplicate that signal directly to the
brain using a technique I call proto-resonance induction. What this
means is we can act directly on brain responses, both conscious and
unconscious. Leaving the conductive mesh under the skull will allow
for future alterations without surgery. The potential for treatment
of mental illnesses and obsessions such as drug or alcohol
addiction is unlimited."
"Is the subject ready?"
"Good. Let's proceed."
"To start the demonstration we will apply external stimulation
to the genitals."
After a short wait a green light came on.
"Good. We have that mapped. Now we apply external stimulation
to the subjects breasts."
When the light came on he continued. "Now while stimulating
the breasts we apply a signal to the area controlled by genital
stimulation. The result is that the subject now finds manual
stimulation of the breasts a sexually arousing experience."
"Now here is how I can influence behavior. The computer is
suggesting an embarrassing situation to the subconscious mind. It
is plotted and now the computer suggests a new experience."
He looked at some papers.
"Yes, this one is being seen bare-chested. While the allusion
is in the mind, the signal is sent to the embarrassment center of
the brain. The subject will now find the bare chest a source of
embarrassment. You can see how this can be used to substitute
desired behavior patterns for unwanted ones."
"To test the effectiveness of this process we will attempt to
affect other senses." The doctor pushed a button.
"What I have done is release into the subjects nostrils a
vapor containing an extract of the pheromone produced by a human
female in heat. Normally the conscious mind is unaware of the
presence of it. Ah yes, we have response."
The doctor pushed another button. "I have just released a
vapor containing the pheromones excreted by a sexually aroused
male. I apply the previous signal and, voila! I trust I do not have
to draw you a picture."
"I am doing nothing here to affect the subject's prior sexual
urges. Rather, you might say, we are expanding them. This machine
can be programmed to provide any number of effects and can be left
to run automatically. The response can be strengthened or weakened
by adjusting the signal strength. Hypnosis can further reinforce
any suggestions which may encounter resistance from the
subconscious. The machine will now finish the task. Any questions?"
There were none and the group left the room. The lights were
turned out leaving the blinking machines as the only source of
Inside the device, a picture of a naked giant breasted blonde,
in a suggestive pose, was displayed to Joe's unconscious mind. The
computer noted the strong response. A series of pictures of
handsome and virile young men were flashed at Joe's mind. Along
with each one went the feedback of the previously recorded signal.
Next a little cam whirled. Oxygen was routed to the tubes in
Joe's nostrils and he was influenced to breathe through his nose.
A probe was inserted into Joe's mouth while a low level signal was
sent to his pleasure center. Joe's subconscious recognized the
shape as that of an erect penis but the constant pleasure signal
overrode it's objection. The probe was pushed in and out,
eventually reaching deep into Joe's throat.
Previously recorded signals controlled Joe's responses. The
gag reflex was muted and his throat was compelled to produce a
swallowing motion. The pleasure signal increased in intensity. The
computer then released a measure of fluid which in consistency ,
taste, and temperature duplicated that of semen. Some was
swallowed, some overflowed his mouth and ran over his face. Joe's
body, craving salt due to his diet, savored the fluid. Concurrently
the machine pulsed the strongest possible stimulation to Joe's
The machine ran through it's program, scattering cues and
responses throughout Joe's mind. While Joe slept he became a new
man. Only he didn't know it.
Joe came to in his bed. He was wearing a baby doll nightgown
and panties made of satin and lace. Recalling Dr. van Damme's
threat to turn him into a big boobed blonde, he stuck his hand
under the elastic of his panties.
"Yes sir, little buddies safe and sound," he thought.
"So much for that crazy doctor and her plan."
Joe's reverie was interrupted by the entrance of the most
gorgeous babe he had seen in awhile. Even in her starched nurses
uniform, Joe could make out the outline of her fantastic figure.
Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a pony tail. She was
tall. About six feet of everything that Joe desired in a woman. He
could feel his cock stir in it's satin confinement.
"Hi. I'm Monica. I'll be your nurse from now on. And you are
"Last time I looked. Where's the two thugs?"
"Oh they're around somewhere, I'm sure."
An attendant brought in dinner then left.
"I'll bet you're hungry Mr. Watson. You've been out for
"How long was I out? What happened to me?"
"I don't know Mr. Watson." Lied the pretty girl. "I just
started on your case. You'll have to ask Dr. van Damme. Here you
go. Bon appetit."
Joe realized he was starving and dug in with a vengeance,
wolfing down salad, milk, rolls and butter, prime rib, mashed
potatoes and gravy, and finishing with apple pie ala mode. Joe's
meal had tasted pretty bland. He mentioned it to the attendant who
told him he had been put on a no-salt diet on Doctor's orders
Monica left with the tray. Joe marvelled at his new found
ability to put food away. It dawned on Joe that he was handling his
long fingernails with no trouble. In fact, he hardly noticed them
"Boy it's amazing what the human body can adapt to," he
thought. "There's got to be a way to get them off when I get out of
Joe hadn't examined the rest of his body and what a surprise
was he in for. His eyes widened as his arm brushed against his
chest. Pulling up his gown, he stared dumbfounded. What had been a
case of swelling nipples were now full-blown breasts. Not quite
massive, but definitely prominent.
What had been swollen nipples were now elongated cones,
projecting out from abundant hemispheres of flesh. The aureoles
around his nipples had continued to expand and they and the nipples
were now a dark pink, almost brown.
Frightened, yet curious at the same time, Joe timidly brought
his right hand up and touched his left breast. He was rewarded with
a strong sensation of pleasure. He grasped the nipple between his
index finger and thumb. The pleasurable feeling increased as he
increased the pressure on the nipple.
He watched in amazement as the nipple responded to his touch.
It enlarged and became rigid. As Joe rolled the nipple between his
fingers he felt his penis awaken.
Stopping for a minute, Joe padded to the door. Satisfied that
the hallway was empty, he went to the bathroom. Elated that his
cock was working again, Joe raised his gown, pulled down his
panties, and then sat on the toilet, fondling his breasts and
stroking his cock, awash in pleasure.
Joe's cock never did become totally erect, but finally spasmed
and discharged a watery impotent fluid. Joe wrote this off to it's
long inactivity, wiped himself off, replaced his attire, and
flushed the toilet.
Proud of his performance, he returned to bed. Smugly
thinking. "So that doctor thinks she can turn me into a bimbo. Well
we'll just see about that!"
He hadn't noticed how his forearms brushed against his hips as
In her office, Dr .van Damme turned away from the monitor. "So
Dave, is this all part of the plan?" She asked her director of
"Yes Doctor. In fact, he is ahead of schedule."
"What's next Dave?'
"I understood doctor, that there were some more physical
changes to be concluded before we went on psychologically."
"My next stage is to get him dressing in feminine apparel."
"And how will you accomplish that?" Asked Dr. van Damme.
"During his session with Dr. Baxter's mind machine," he used
staff slang, " I had instilled in Joe, the psycho-sexual response
of the typical transvestite. You may be aware that these are men
who feel compelled to dress in women's clothing, and obtain great
sexual stimulation and pleasure from doing so. I masked this
character trait, so we need only hypnotize him, give him the
release cue, and his first experience in female finery will
conclude his imprinting. After that, I'd venture a guess that you
couldn't keep him out of women's clothing. Would you like me to do
"No Dave, not just yet. Let's allow Joe to reach his full
development. No sense wasting money on clothing now, that will no
longer fit him when his tits and ass stop growing."
Joe finished another enormous breakfast. Many days had left
him no illusions as to where the food was going, but he felt no
urge to diet. His breasts were expanding mounds. Jokingly he mused,
"If this keeps up I may need a bra." Rejecting the notion as
trivial, he gave it no further thought. Everything would be
corrected once he got out of this madhouse. "Let them have their
little fun. We'll see whose laughing at the end."
Joe was now aware of the fact that he had to hold his arms out
away from his body as he walked. They couldn't hang straight down;
his hips got in the way . He also had to swing them in an
unfamiliar manner, to compensate for the oscillations of his
tremendous buttocks as he walked. He felt like his whole center of
gravity had shifted. Without his being aware of it, his gait had
modified itself to counterbalance his new distribution of mass.
Dr. van Damme and her chief plastic surgeon watched from her
office as Joe went about his morning toilet. "What are the changes
you want done to this one?" Inquired the surgeon.
"Just some minor detail work; the ears pinned back, the nose
bobbed and those little implants put in to give him those high sexy
cheekbones. I also want his eyes opened for more expression, and
his lips made as full as your skill allows."
"No problem there. I'm ready when you are."
"Good. In a couple of days then."
By now Joe had dried off, and Monica was giving him a rubdown
on the bed.
"You may find this interesting Doctor," said Dr. van Damme.
"The subject is being applied an experimental medication that
will make us wealthy beyond our dreams. We have had great success
retarding the aging process using injections of fetal material,
however, many people objected on ethical grounds. The lab was able
to extract the compound that produced that result and was able to
synthesize it. Applied in a regimen of topical application it
reverses the effect of aging on the skin."
"I remember the millions that poured out for Retin-A which was
of dubious effectiveness," stated the surgeon.
"The money involved here will make that seem like a child's
kiddy bank. Take this subject for instance. For several months now
his skin has been replacing itself under the influence of female
hormones. It now has all the characteristics of female skin, but he
is still thirty-one years old. When his treatment is complete he
will have the skin texture of an eighteen year old girl."
Joe relaxed and savored the tingling feeling that covered his
body. It was almost as if his skin was alive. He wondered if he
would get a chance to masturbate this morning. His cock and nipples
stiffened in anticipation.
Meanwhile ... Back in New York.
Joe Watson's son, Robert, confronted his newly appointed
guardian, Gloria Watson. "I don't care what the court says, my
father wanted you out of his life. Just because he never changed
his will doesn't give you the right to take over my life."
"Now Bob, that's no way to talk. It seems to me he didn't want
you cluttering up his life either. I understand that, except for
your support money and a birthday card once a year, you never saw
or heard from him. Let's put the past behind us and work through
these hard times together."
"Fuck you! Just wait till I get control of my money. I'll see
to it that you're finished in this town."
"Fine Bob. If that's how you want it ... "
Joe awoke from a tortured dream, only to find his reality just
as severe. He couldn't open his eyes or move his lips. His throat
burned, his mouth was dry, and every part of his face ached. Just
then he felt the sting of a needle entering his arm, relief, and
Joe sipped his milkshake. That's all the nourishment he'd had
for some time now. He wore big braces on his teeth which prevented
the intake of more solid food. The pads had been removed from his
eyes and lips. He still couldn't speak.
Dr. van Damme, Monica, and several other people filed into his
room. One of the men went to work removing Joe's braces. "I've
straightened, capped, and evened his teeth up." Looking in Joe's
mouth, he said "They're flawless."
Dr. van Damme and another doctor looked at Joe's face
critically, the surgeon grabbing his head and turning it this way
"Exquisite Doctor. Once again you've outdone yourself," said
Dr. van Damme.
The surgeon acknowledged her compliment with a nod.
"So what do you have to say Joe?" asked Dr. van Damme.
Joe tried to tell her that he was fine but no matter what he
did, no sound came from his mouth.
"What's the matter Joe? Cat got your tongue?"
The crowd laughed.
By trying to hum Joe was finally able to produce a noise. It
was a high-pitched squeak.
"O.K., enough fooling around. What's wrong Joe, is that you've
been given a new larynx. Many people loose theirs to throat cancer
very year and an manmade one that won't be noticed will allow
thousands to speak again and rejoin society. The only difficulty is
that the muscles that operate your new voice, function differently
from your old ones. Mrs. Johnson here will be your speech therapist
and teach you how to speak again."
The crowd departed and Joe was left alone for his first
session with Mrs. Johnson. As he tried to speak he noticed that, in
addition to his throat, his lips felt odd.
The following days reminded Joe of the movie "My Fair Lady".
He felt like Eliza Doolittle learning to speak. Not only that, but
after several weeks he spoke like her too! Not with a British
accent, but in a sweet soprano voice.
Two things about this latest development bothered Joe in
particular. First, he had to learn to operate new muscles to
pronounce each word. This was a long process and so far he had only
the vocabulary of a first grader, but Mrs. Johnson had told him
that her sessions with him were almost over. Secondly, he didn't
like the enunciation patterns that Mrs. Johnson had imparted to
him; he now spoke in the slow breathy drawl of a seductive young
One morning, Monica and another girl entered Joe's room. Joe
was wearing a pink satin chemise gown with spaghetti straps, trying
to ignore what was under it. His breasts had finally stopped
growing, but it was too late as far as Joe was concerned; the new
appendages were immense.
Joe didn't joke about needing a bra anymore. Now he wondered
when he'd be given one to take the considerable strain of
supporting the pendulous mammaries off of his pectoral muscles.
"Good morning Joe. This is Betsy. She's a cosmetologist and
will be working on you today."
Joe groaned inwardly. He'd suspected that this would happen
sooner or later. It seemed that every occurrence brought him closer
to Dr. van Damme's promised outcome.
Betsy fussed around Joe's face. He felt her applying make-up
to his lips, eyelids, and cheeks. When she was done, she took Joe's
picture. The process was repeated several times.
Betsy was talking with Dr. van Damme as Dave Weinstein,
Monica, and a strange man looked on.
"What color is his hair going to be," asked Betsy.
"Blonde." Replied Dr. van Damme. Thinking "As if we ever had
"In that case, I'd recommend this style."
"That's too subdued. I had something a little more extreme in
"That we can do." Said Betsy, getting some colored markers and
making changes to the close-up photographs of Joe's made up face.
When she was finished Dr. van Damme smiled and nodded her approval.
"What do you think?" She asked the strange man.
Looking at the pictures, he replied, "No problem. Child's
play. I'll go get my gear ready."
After he left, Dr. van Damme addressed Dave Weinstein. "While
Joe is under for this, I want you to remove the block on his
"Please get up and come with me Joe."
Joe had been expecting lunch, which was late. Instead here was
Monica telling him to come with her. Too apprehensive to complain,
Joe swung out of bed, slipped on his high heeled mules, and grabbed
a robe which matched his chemise.
Joe tried to remain self-possessed as he followed Monica down
the hall, but was not very successful. He knew he presented a
spectacle; a bald man with the figure of a centerfold. Walking in
his high heels produced a loud racket which resounded throughout
the corridors. With each step his large breasts bounced awkwardly,
the nipples rubbing against his satin gown, providing unwanted
stimulation. He tried to straighten up and not swing his hips so
much. This made his breasts even more prominent and walking more
They entered a room containing a bed and some unfamiliar
"Strip and lie down on the bed."
Joe shed his robe and chemise. He felt uneasy, not being aware
of his implanted need to conceal his breasts.
The strange man entered and Joe experienced intense
embarrassment and instinctively covered his breasts with his arms.
He was grateful when Monica covered him with a sheet, over which
she placed a plastic mat for protection.
Monica produced a gas mask. Knowing the futility of
resistance, Joe breathed deeply. As his awareness ebbed Joe saw the
man raise what looked like a dentists drill and attach a bottle of
red fluid to it.
"Wait a minute, that's a ... "
The tattooist turned on his needle and started to outline the
unconscious man's appealing lips. He thought to himself, "Real
pretty, this one's gonna be real pretty."
To be continued ...