"You could have at least waited for him to come off the operating table."
"I couldn't . . . (huff) . . . help it . . . (puff). I think we may have overimplanted the scent. Come over here and . . ."
"My God, I think you're right. God, god, finish with it. I must . . . as well. And we can see how well he can take an enhanced size. You're no . . ."
"And you too obviously are, you are saying. You have been insufferable since you had it done. And until we do this more, you are limited. Too soon—and I've seen the frustration in you. In the meantime, you declare yourself by having it done. Everywhere you walk." The voice was snappish.
"And that's half the satisfaction," came the quick, equally snappish retort. "Others knowing what I could do. You're just too close with your money. You could well afford . . . but I don't know . . . we shouldn't . . ."
"That's rather academic now—in the circumstance. And I know what you think."
"We've discussed this before, James. You aren't too old. We can be again. You could have this done, or some semblance of it. But this one, he's still on the table . . . perhaps the other room, together, with our hands . . ."
"Fuck it. It's perfectly safe. We used Instant Heal. And . . . and . . . I can't help myself. It marks our success. And he would have to be tested anyway. We can verify—the tapes will show—and they won't have to pay for a formal test."
My consciousness swam up from the depths of the anesthesia. I was lying, naked on an operating table, strong lights trained on me from above, my feet in stirrups and raised and spread. I looked down across my belly. A gray-haired man, still wearing a surgical mask and in a medical coat, unbuttoned and spread to reveal a naked hairy chest and the hint of the beginnings of a pot belly, was standing close in between my spread thighs. He was palming my buttocks with what felt like latex-gloved hands, and his torso was moving backward and forward as he rocked on the balls of his feet. I could feel him inside me. He was fucking me.
A normal man would have been shocked at awakening to this. A man such as it was my lot in life to be wouldn't be shocked—but I certainly was surprised. I wasn't in the Pleasure Palace, where playing doctor was routine. I was just surprised to awaken here . . . like this.
He wasn't filling—at least at first—but it was pleasurable, and I was having sensations I'd never had before. My channel seemed to have a life of its own. Muscles I had never felt before began to clamp down on his cock and undulated across and around it. My channel was beginning to react as promised, making him feel huge—as he was murmuring in awe—and me feel filled. We both gasped and groaned at the adjustment. His moaning was telling me how much pleasure this was giving him, which, in turn, clicked on a newly provided reaction in me. It was giving pleasure to me too—far more than I had before they had selected me from the Pleasure Palace for the enhancements. And with concentration, I found I could control the muscles now working inside me, and the groan I heard from below me told me that I could produce this reaction at will, with only the intentional working of the muscles inside my channel.
"If you insist. But finish it, finish it. I must . . ." The voice was insistent, off to the side, but close. I turned my head and found myself staring into a fully erect cock of more than a foot in length and two inches in girth. Yet another doctor stood there, in surgical gear, but with his green coat open, exposing the tanned torso of a fit young man who was no more than thirty and well worked. He had both of his hands wrapped around his monstrous cock, and he was moaning his need.
I had heard of the cosmetic procedures they had mastered, of the male enhancements that, in turn, were prompting research into enhancements in the Pleasure Giver world as well.
I had been bred to give pleasure—long months of grooming and sculpting and training—but the enhancement breakthroughs for men who wanted more drove my work areas into new technology as well, if only out of necessity, for survivability in the literal sense among the Pleasure Giver ranks.
I heard the joyous cry of release and felt the gray-haired doctor's warm cum spread inside me. He fell away, and the younger doctor was muscling in between my legs now. I knew even more than they did that this was a real test of their surgical capabilities. I had never even seen an enhanced cock like this, let alone taken one.
I arched my back and gave a little cry of surprise and awe as he slowly slid into me. And into me and into me. I felt my channel walls spreading. Resisting at first, but then accepting and exercising their newly provided flexibility and stretch capability.
I groaned and grunted as did the young doctor, but he was giving me words of assurance and encouragement and telling me that no one had been prepared for this as well as I was—and telling me that the scent of me was driving him wild and that I was beautiful and that he had wanted to do this, fuck me, since he'd seen me, naked, in preop.
And then he was inside me, farther up inside me than I'd ever been invaded before. And his cock was throbbing deep inside me.
"Oh God, oh Shiiittt, Yessss," he exclaimed, as my channel sheathed him tightly and, by my own new-found will, the muscles of my inner walls began to undulate and make love to his cock.
That was the last of the talking for a while, as, with grunts and extended groans, he began to pump me and I responded willingly, joyfully.
We were both breathing heavily and panting and gasping, and, even bound to the table as I was, I set my hips into motion and we fucked hard, furiously, like wild animals. I thrilled at the realization that the doctor had gone to the limit with his enhancement elections. He had received the stamina augmentation as well. We fucked on, well beyond the endurance of those who normally came to me at the Pleasure Palace, and he brought me to ejaculation twice before he arrived at that threshold himself.
With a shared cry of joy, we both came together when he finished, and the young doctor stood there, between my legs, his hands clutching my waist, and his eyes searching out mine and conveying how glorious the experience was for him. I did not gainsay him for that. It was glorious for me as well. Even the feel of my channel walls retracting as he slowly went soft, still sheathing him tightly, sent chills up my spine.
"They'll pay us millions for the enhancements we've given him," I heard a voice murmur from just beyond the periphery of my side vision.
* * * *
I sat in the steamy bath with them, watching them, as had been my instruction. They were sitting opposite me, the steam rising from the bath into the cool night air in the open pavilion, the breeze flowing through and causing the draperies at the red-lacquer corner pillars to billow. The soft lute music in the background, seemingly wafting on the breeze, was contrasted by the guttural moaning of my fellow Pleasure Giver, Peng, as Feng Lee raised and lowered him on his cock.
Feng Lee had held Peng in his lap and worked the young man on his cock in the bath for some thirty minutes, and Peng had wanted to come twice in that time, but when he reached the edge, Feng Lee held him tight and steady and commanded him not to come. Peng had thus far been able to hold himself in check, but I knew he could not last for long.
At Feng Lee's command, Peng rose up off his lap and Feng Lee stood and climbed out of the tub, grunting as Peng took up a towel and dried off the long, lean, wiry body of the middle-aged man. His muscles were ropey and there were a few scars to mark his years and his valor in battle. Feng Lee was well over six feet tall and his arms showed the power of him. Dried, he exhibited that power by lifting Peng by the waist and carrying him to a low divan, laying him down on his back, wishboning his legs, and resuming his fucking of Peng's channel.
Peng was moving with the fuck and moaning deeply. I wanted to take myself in hand too, to share in Peng's taking. But I knew that this was not what Feng Lee wanted. And I knew it would be folly to displease Feng Lee. I knew Peng wanted to come. But he knew he could not do so until he received Feng Lee's permission. At a signal from Feng Lee, Peng was permitted to take his phallus in his hand and slowly work it, while Feng Lee held his legs wide and continued stroking inside him.
I could tell when Feng Lee was nearing his time, because he was stroking faster and deeper, and I could hear his ragged breathing from where I sat, still, in the steam pool, trying not to join them by stroking myself. At a grunted signal, both men tensed, and as Feng Lee signaled permission and I saw Peng begin his ejaculation, I knew that the release had been simultaneous, as Feng Lee's buttocks were gripping and jerking and the expression on Peng face was one of being flooded internally.
Feng Lee pulled out of Peng and clapped his hands, and Peng rose from the divan and left the pavilion. Feng Lee walked back to the steam tub and entered it. He walked over to me and lifted a hand. At that signal, I rose up and he took my hand and we both climbed out of the tub.
