Chapter 7
What was that smell? What was that sound? Why did it sound like someone was moving around in my kitchen? Why did my arsehole feel a little sore?
I opened my eyes against the incoming stab of light between the gap in the curtains, groaning as I turned onto my side and looked at the flashing clock face.
‘Get up, or you’ll be late for work.’
My body tensed as the voice reached me, a female voice, shouting from the floor below.
‘What the fuck?’ I snapped once I’d thrown back the covers, the crotch of my pyjamas stained and my cock throbbing weakly between my thighs.
More sounds from below forced me to ignore it for the moment, padding cautiously across the room and looking into the hallway.
Someone was cooking, that much was clear.
Cathy.
My heart leapt into my throat as I slung on the closest thing, a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, racing for the stairs as I felt my time for redemption must have come.
‘I’m so sorry, I really am,’ I said as I got closer to the kitchen door, ‘please come back to the house. I promise I’ve changed.’
The door swung open where I pushed it, and my words died before leaving my mouth.
Thaleia smiled back at me, standing proudly by the stovetop on a pair of heeled boots, tight jeans shaping a backside that most women would pay for and straight men would desire, her lean, athletic figure fitting like a glove into a charcoal blouse that left very little to the imagination.
On any other day the smile she gave me – warm, genuine, and highly alluring – would have made me hard in seconds, but all I could manage was a twitch of my cock and the ever-present sensation of pre already visibly wetting my boxers.
Her piercing blue eyes only moved briefly from me to arrange several dishes on the kitchen table. Bacon, pancakes, a glass of orange juice. All laid out perfectly and precisely distanced from one another.
‘Please take a seat, Adrian.’
‘Adrian?’ I said with a cock of an eyebrow, ‘no more Mr Batts then?’
She laughed and brushed some of her dark hair away from that striking face. ‘No, you’ve been participating in our programme of self-discovery for nearly a month now, and I’ve been sent here to check on your progress.’
My hands reached for the orange juice and drank it like a man in a desert, bacon on pancakes following soon after, only catching her studying me when I felt a shiver run down my spine.
‘How did you get in?’
‘It seems you left your front door unlocked, Adrian. Such a silly girl.’
Another twitch of my cock, my own mind sliding over the word as if it were no strange thing, embarrassment making my voice quieter as I mumbled.
‘No… I didn’t leave it open. I locked it. I’m sure.’
‘No. You did not lock it.’
‘No,’ I agreed readily, the words pulled from my mouth by some invisible thread, ‘I must have left it unlocked.’ My face went cherry-red, my eyelids fluttering. ‘I-I’m sorry, Thaleia.’ This bacon really was delicious; I wondered what she had used to cook it.
‘That’s right.’
When she took a few steps towards me the last thing I would have expected was for her to lean down and press her lips to my own, making me nearly choke as I swallowed down my breakfast. My lips tingled and my mind hummed as I inhaled the essential blend perfume she had chosen to wear this morning.
God, her lips were so soft, pressing hard and then soft into my own, her tongue slipping between my lips to wrap about my own.
For several moments we wrestled back and forth, Thaleia eventually pulling away with a satisfied smile and a glimmer of something in her entrancing eyes.
‘It seems you are blooming, Adrian. Just like you said.’
What did she mean? And why did I feel so happy about it?
‘Not even able to get it up for me,’ she stated matter-of-factly, ‘pre-cum production increased, as it should be.’ Her eyes moved up and down, studying me like something under a microscope. ‘Good progress made on the chest and hips, smoother skin and substantially thicker hair.’
A hand reached forward and, before I could turn away, she took a nipple between two fingers and stretched it out. I shuddered, my entire body feeling as if it had just been electrically charged, a soft groan dragged from me.
‘Sensitivity at expected levels, and the Root Bloom Practice has been started prior to scheduling.’
Those eyes boring into me again, my own becoming more unfocused as she continued to run a hand across my hairless chest, moving it down… and down… her slender neck next to my face by the time she cupped my cock and balls in her hand, a murmur of satisfaction purred into my ear.
‘Twenty percent reduction, testicles are smooth.’ She turned her head enough to breathe into my ear. ‘Tell me, Adrian. How is your clitty?’
‘M-my “clitty”?’ I asked, horrified at how she was speaking about my cock… but also far from it.
‘Yes, how would you describe it.’
Something inside my mind pushed to the surface, and my voice sounded strained, even softer, as I repeated what was offered to me by that whispering voice in the back of my mind. My world getting smaller and my concentration dwindling with each word I said.
‘My c-clitty, it’s… delicate and… and sweet,’ before I could stop myself I was going on, feeling confidence building inside of me, ‘I’m not sure I need to stroke it anymore either.’
A comforting squeeze was given to my clitty and balls, then she lifted her hand to my mouth, the smell of my own precum mixing with her perfume.
‘That’s right. You are blooming into the true you, and we at the Centre are happy for you to go on as you have been. It is clearly working, and Cathy will be so happy to see how much you’ve embraced change.’ There was a slight pause. ‘Now, lick my hand.’
‘But that’s disgusting, I can’t do that!’
‘No? You are opening… you are softening… you are blooming… don’t worry, you are safe.’
‘Safe. I’m a good girl.’
I can’t remember exactly what happened after that, but I tasted something thin, slightly salty and bitter. Several more times I found myself lapping something from Thaleia’s hand, each time feeling a warmth building in my lower stomach, and a sense of satisfaction that made me smile.
‘Carry on with your regimen as usual, you’re doing very well.
The Root Bloom Practice can be done for twenty to thirty minutes, three or four times a week…
I’ll leave that up to you.’ Something small was placed on the table, another box.
‘This is for your twice weekly Velvet Skin Ritual. To get rid of all those nasty hairs you still have on your body. Just a cream you can lather on a warming blanket we will be providing.’
She gave a warm smile and uncharacteristically ruffled my hair, beaming down at me for a moment, then turning and walking out of the kitchen and the house.
Only when I heard the sound of an engine starting and the screech of wheels heading down the road did I smack my lips together and give a sigh, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of crispy bacon, wondering why it tasted saltier than usual and that I should clean myself up and get to work before I was late.