Chapter 10: Silicone Baptism
The first sensation was pressure. An insistent, throbbing ache deep in his chest, rhythmic with each shallow breath. Josh groaned, consciousness returning like a bad hangover. The plush velvet beneath his cheek was an unnatural shade of bubblegum pink. The air hung thick and cloying, saturated with the sickly-sweet perfume Evelynii favored – gardenias dipped in melted candy. A low hum vibrated through the floor, emanating from a monstrous pink crystal chandelier dripping light like solidified syrup.
He pushed himself up, wincing as the movement made the heavy weights hanging from his chest sway and jiggle. D-cups. The thought slammed into him, clear and terrifying. His old grey t-shirt, once comfortably baggy, was stretched obscenely tight across his upper body, the worn cotton straining over the pronounced swell of his breasts. They felt hot, sensitive, the nipples hard nubs scraping against the rough fabric with every shift. Lower down, a different kind of pressure screamed for attention. His cock, painfully hard, was trapped within something tight and abrasive. He looked down.
Glittering, baby pink satin panties. Encased within them, his erection jutted out at a sharp angle, the head dark and slick with precum, straining against the delicate lace trim. Glitter was embedded in the fabric, tiny, sharp flecks that pricked his engorged flesh. The waistband cut into the soft flesh of his lower belly, already beginning to pill with softness that hadn't been there… yesterday? Last week? He couldn’t remember. His gaze drifted to his exposed midriff; the shirt had ridden up, revealing a soft, smooth expanse of pale skin that curved gently outwards. No trace of abdominals. Just… softness.
Memory fragments crashed like shards of broken glass. The overwhelming scent of Evelynii’s perfume. A blinding phone light. The thick, salty taste of cock on his tongue – not his own. Gagging. A deep, amused male laugh. Evelynii’s voice, high-pitched and excited: "Look at him take it, baby! Such a good little cocksucker for you!" Then blackness.
The sound of stiletto heels clicking on polished marble snapped his head up. Evelynii stood framed in the doorway to the bedroom, leaning against the ornate pink frame. She wasn't the best friend from the sleepover memory anymore. Her curves were hyperbolic, surgically perfected. Her breasts, spilling from a sheer black lace teddy, looked like overfilled water balloons, nipples hard points pressing against the flimsy material. Her lips were swollen pillows of injected collagen, slicked with metallic pink gloss. Her eyes, heavily made-up, held a familiar glitter – the same predatory spark he’d seen in the vanity mirror, amplified a thousandfold. Vacant, yet intensely focused on him.
"Well, look who decided to rejoin the party, Sleeping Beauty," she purred, her voice a low, syrupy drawl. "Had a nice nap after Derek finished painting your throat?"
Josh flinched. Derek. The surgeon boyfriend. Tall, impossibly handsome, with cold, assessing eyes. The memory of those eyes watching him choke resurfaced, vivid and humiliating. "Ev… what the fuck?" His voice was hoarse, scratchy. "What did you… what is this?" He gestured weakly at his chest, then down at the glittering panties constricting his cock.
Evelynii pushed off the doorframe, hips swaying with exaggerated motion. She stopped beside the couch, towering over him in her heels. The scent of her perfume intensified, cloying and invasive. "This?" She reached out, her long, manicured fingernail tracing the outline of his left breast through the thin t-shirt. He sucked in a sharp breath as the touch sparked a jolt of unwanted sensation – not quite pain, not quite pleasure, just intense awareness. "This is perfection, Joshie. Progress. Derek’s very impressed with the development." Her nail hooked under the neckline of his shirt, pulling it down slightly, exposing the upper swell of his breast and the straining lace of the bra he now realized he was also wearing underneath. "He says the hormone pellets are integrating beautifully. Such responsive tissue."
"Hormone pellets?" Josh whispered, panic clawing up his throat. "You… you put something in me? When?"
Evelynii just smiled, a slow, knowing curve of her glossy lips. "Don’t be dramatic, sweetie. A little prick. You barely felt it. Needed something to help you relax before your… performance." Her gaze dropped, lingering on the tented pink satin between his legs. A bead of precum welled at the tip, soaking into the glitter. "Still so eager, I see. Derek got you all worked up, didn't he? Couldn't even finish sucking him off before you passed out. Amateur." Her tone was mocking.
The heat in Josh’s face was volcanic. Humiliation warred with the persistent, shameful throb of his cock. The pressure inside the panties was agony. His breasts felt heavy, aching, needy. "Take these off me," he rasped, pulling futilely at the glittering waistband. "Please, Ev. This isn't funny anymore."
"Who's laughing?" Her hand darted out, not gentle this time. Her fingers closed over his trapped cock through the satin, squeezing hard. Josh cried out, back arching, his breasts bouncing heavily. "Look at you," she hissed, her breath hot on his ear. "Tits bigger than mine were at sixteen, moaning like a slut because your best friend is grabbing your little dick through your pretty panties." She ground the heel of her palm against the head of his cock. Stars exploded behind his eyes. Precum gushed, making the satin cling wetly. "Remember the sleepover? Remember my socks stuffed in that little training bra? Look at you now, Joshie. Look at what Mommy made you."
Mommy. The word detonated in his skull. Evelynii’s face swam before him, merging with the dream goddess, with the reflection in the mirror. The hunger roared back – not just in his groin, but deep in his swollen chest, a desperate, empty ache.
The front door clicked open. Derek stepped in, immaculate in a charcoal grey suit, carrying a sleek black medical bag. His sharp eyes swept the scene – Josh panting on the couch, Evelynii’s hand clamped possessively on his crotch, the glistening evidence of his arousal staining the pink satin. A cold smirk touched his lips.
"Awake, I see," Derek stated, his voice smooth and detached. He set the bag down with deliberate care. "Recovered from your little… episode?"
Josh tried to shrink back into the couch. "Let me go," he mumbled, trying to pry Evelynii’s hand away. Her grip tightened, nails digging in.
"Not yet, sweetie," Evelynii crooned, her eyes fixed on Derek. "Derek brought something special. Didn't you, baby? Something to help our little bimbo boy really feel the changes?"
Derek unzipped the bag with a soft hiss. He withdrew not a syringe, but a thick, veined dildo, made of gleaming, flesh-toned silicone. It was intimidatingly large, slicked with a clear gel that smelled faintly clinical. "Compliments of the clinic," he said, holding it up. "Top-of-the-line bio-responsive material. Mimics temperature, texture… sensation. Excellent for assessing tissue pliability and… receptiveness." His gaze locked onto Josh’s. "Particularly in developing mammary tissue."
Josh’s blood ran cold. "No," he choked out. "No, you can't—"
"Strip him, Evelynii," Derek commanded, his voice brooking no argument. He began unbuttoning his suit jacket, his movements precise, unhurried.
Evelynii squealed with delight. "Yes, Doctor!" Her hands were frantic now. She yanked Josh's t-shirt up and over his head, exposing the lacy black bra struggling to contain his D-cup breasts. The cool air made his nipples pucker painfully. Then she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of the pink satin panties and pulled them down his trembling legs in one swift motion. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed, bobbing obscenely, dripping onto the pink velvet couch.
"Beautiful," Derek murmured, stepping closer. He was now shirtless, revealing a sculpted torso. He held the thick dildo loosely. "Observe the engorgement, Evelynii. The heightened vascularity. Textbook response to the estrogen-androgen blend." He reached out, not touching Josh, but running the cool, gel-slicked tip of the dildo lightly over Josh’s left nipple.
Josh gasped. The coldness, the strange, yielding-yet-firm texture… it sent an electric shock through the hypersensitive nerve endings. His nipple hardened further, almost painfully. A thin bead of white fluid – not precum, thicker, creamier – welled at the tip. Milk. The sight sent a fresh wave of dizzying shame through him.
"Fuck, look at that!" Evelynii breathed, leaning in close. "He’s leaking!"
"Lactation is a possible side effect," Derek stated clinically, circling the dildo around the areola, applying gentle pressure. "Fascinating how rapidly it's manifesting. The implants are stimulating ductal tissue beautifully." He increased the pressure, pressing the bulbous head firmly against the swollen nipple. Josh cried out, a high, thin sound, as the dildo’s surface seemed to subtly warm against his skin. "Good. Very responsive." Derek’s eyes flickered with cold interest. "Hold his arms, Evelynii."
Evelynii pinned Josh’s wrists above his head against the back of the couch. He struggled weakly, but her strength, fueled by unnatural excitement, was immense. His breasts, free from the bra now discarded on the floor, bounced heavily with his frantic movements, milk beading on both nipples. Derek positioned himself between Josh’s spread legs. The thick, gel-slicked dildo slid down his stomach, leaving a cold, sticky trail, and pressed bluntly against his entrance.
"Relax," Derek commanded, his voice devoid of warmth. "This is merely an assessment. Deep tissue massage. Facilitates growth." He pushed.
The intrusion was brutal. Josh screamed, back arching off the couch. It burned, stretched him impossibly wide. The dildo felt enormous, unyielding, coated in that cold, numbing gel that did nothing to dull the tearing sensation. Derek pushed steadily, relentlessly, his expression one of detached observation.
"Fuck! Stop! Please, god, stop!" Josh sobbed, thrashing against Evelynii’s iron grip. His cock, despite the agony, remained achingly hard, bouncing against his belly, spilling precum onto his soft skin.
"Look at his tits bounce, Derek!" Evelynii giggled, her voice strained with effort and perverse delight. "Look at the milk!"
Derek grunted, shoving the dildo deeper, burying it to the hilt. Josh choked, his vision blurring. The fullness inside him was agonizing, violating. Derek began to move, slow, deliberate thrusts that dragged the thick silicone against his raw inner walls. The clinical gel seemed to grow warmer, mimicking body heat, making the violation feel even more intimate, more obscene.
"Note the involuntary pelvic tilt," Derek said, his breath barely hitching as he thrust. "And the sustained erection. Evidence of paradoxical arousal despite the discomfort. The hormonal cocktail is effectively rewiring pleasure pathways." He twisted the dildo inside Josh, grinding it against his prostate.
A bolt of white-hot electricity seared through Josh’s core, obliterating the pain for a split second. A strangled groan tore from his throat, part agony, part devastating, unwanted ecstasy. His cock pulsed violently, spitting another thick rope of precum onto his heaving stomach. Simultaneously, twin streams of milk sprayed from his nipples, arcing through the perfumed air to splatter hotly on his own trembling thighs and the pink velvet beneath him.
"Oh, YES!" Evelynii shrieked, releasing one wrist to smear her fingers through the milk on his chest, then shoving them into his open, gasping mouth. "Taste it, bimbo! Taste what you are!"
The taste was cloying, sweet, alien. It mingled with the salt of his tears. Derek’s thrusts grew harder, faster, the dildo pistoning into him with ruthless efficiency. The pain was a distant throb now, drowned out by the brutal assault on his prostate and the horrifying, overwhelming sensation of his own body betraying him utterly. His back arched off the couch, spine bowing. His swollen breasts jiggled violently with each slam of the dildo, milk streaming down their curves. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. His orgasm built with terrifying force, a tsunami of degradation and impossible physical release.
Derek slammed into him one final time, grinding the dildo deep. "Now," he ordered, his voice tight.
Josh exploded. A guttural, animalistic roar ripped from his throat as his cock convulsed, unleashing thick jets of cum that splashed across his soft belly and heaving chest, mixing with the spilled milk. His ass muscles clenched spasmodically around the invading dildo. Inside, the sensation was cataclysmic, a white-out of shame and excruciating pleasure that seemed to radiate out from his core, vibrating through his swollen breasts, making them ache and pulse. He slumped, utterly spent, slick with sweat, milk, and his own cum, the thick dildo still buried inside him.
Derek withdrew it slowly, the slick, glistening length pulling free with a wet, obscene sound. He examined it clinically. "Excellent tissue response. Significant progress." He wiped the dildo on a towel from his bag, then turned to Evelynii. "Feed him the supplement. Double dose. Maintain the momentum."
Evelynii was already reaching for a small pink bottle on a side table. She shook out two large, iridescent capsules. "Open wide, baby," she crooned, her eyes gleaming as she pinched Josh’s jaw open. He was too weak, too shattered to resist. She popped the capsules onto his tongue. They tasted like artificial cherries and chalk. She clamped his mouth shut. "Swallow."
He gagged but obeyed. The capsules stuck in his raw throat before sliding down, heavy and cold.
Derek was shrugging his shirt back on. "I have consultations. Keep him stimulated. Keep him leaking. The feed loved the blowjob footage. They're clamoring for more… lactation content." He gave Josh one last, appraising look – not as a person, but as a specimen. "Impressive development. Truly." He picked up his bag and left without another word, the door clicking shut softly behind him.
Evelynii released Josh’s other wrist. He collapsed back onto the wet velvet, trembling uncontrollably. His chest heaved. Milk still trickled from his nipples, mingling with the cooling mess on his belly. The place between his legs throbbed, raw and violated. The taste of milk and pills lingered on his tongue. The pink chandelier light seemed to pulse in time with the ache in his breasts.
Evelynii stretched languidly, her enormous breasts straining against the lace. She picked up her phone from the table, the screen still glowing. "Okay, followers," she chirped, her voice back to its bubbly, vapid perfection. She pointed the camera down at Josh’s broken, milk-smeared form. "Bimbo Boy’s had a very productive check-up! Doctor says his tits are coming along amazingly! Look at all this yummy milk!" She zoomed in on his leaking nipples, then panned down to the mess on his belly. "And he made SUCH a mess! Who wants to see him clean it up? Donate now for the licky-lick show!" She giggled, a sound like shattering glass. "C’mon, Joshie! Show them your gratitude! Be a good little milk-slut for Mommy."
She nudged his head down with her foot, towards the sticky puddle on his own stomach. The pills in his gut felt like ice. The hunger deep within his swollen chest flared, sharp and undeniable. It wasn