Dressed for Disaster: The Prequel

I struggled furiously against my restraints. "You bitch! I'll kill you."

"I don't think so. Soon, you will be docile as a lamb. Castration tends to do that to a man."

"Oh my God! No!"

"If that was a prayer, it is not going to help you. But I am not without mercy. As I said, your new breasts will be fully functional. And I would not want to deprive you of the joys of motherhood. Although you will never be able to bear a child, you may want to suckle your genetic offspring."

"You must be insane! Let me out of here. Please, let me go!"

She ignored the interruption. "You see, my little experiment requires that we preserve a quantity of your sperm in case you decide later to raise your own child. Prepare for your last male orgasm."

Before I could react, she implanted a large tube on my penis. It was attached to wires and a rubber hose, and as she switched it on, I realized that it was some kind of milking device. In spite of myself, I began to harden as it sucked on me. Over and over, I was pulled and stroked, and through the horror of it, I became aroused as my body instinctively readied to ejaculate. Suddenly, the mad surgeon produced a slender wand, which she greased and inserted in my ass. Probing for my prostate gland, she found it and the wand began to vibrate. The combined effect of milking my penis and massaging my prostate made me delirious, and I heard myself scream with a mixture and agony and ecstasy as I approached a devastating climax.

***

As the hapless character suffered through his final orgasm, Pat erupted into the satin folds of his nightgown, smearing it with gobs of hot semen. When his gratification had subsided, a wave of revulsion swept over him, and for the hundredth time, he vowed to throw away his woman's clothing and swear off crossdressing forever. Even as he thought it, he knew this would soon pass, and that he would be pleasuring himself at least once more before falling asleep, reveling in the feeling of his nightgown against his smooth skin.