(I do not condone forced detransitions. I believe in the importance of real-life consent-- this is merely a fantasy.)
Rory wakes up slow, groggy from what he will later discover to be a drug induced slumber. He's somewhere with dim lighting, strapped to a table with his legs spread, cool air brushing up against his privates.
"Hello Ms. Jessica," says a voice.
Rory jolts awake at the sound of his dead name. "Who are you?" he says. He wonders if he's in a dream. He tries to get up, but discovers his wrists, ankles, and waist are bound by a thick black rope which are holding him in place.
"I'm Dr. Goodman. Welcome to the The Feminization Facility, founded 90 years ago today. Can I get you some cold water?"
"Where am I?" he asks, panic at the absurd situation bringing him back to reality. He is incredibly thirsty but of course won't admit so, never once considering taking a beverage from this bizarre stranger. "Have I been kidnapped?" he wonders aloud, looking down in horror at his naked and exposed body. He's always hated looking at himself, but he needs to check to make sure he's unharmed.
"Kidnapping would require you're a minor, and it says here on your driver's license that you're nineteen years old. A fine age for a young woman such as yourself. You have excellent features, you know--high cheekbones, perky tits, a tight pussy with a completely pink labia and a perfectly unfucked hole."
"Shut up and let me go, freak!" he snaps, but his voice trembles, showing that he's very clearly afraid.
"Now now, Jessica. Don't make me gag you," he tuts, shaking a gloved finger. "I like to treat my ladies like a gentleman would, but if you start calling me names, I'll be forced to watch you drool all over yourself."
"My name is
Rory
," he insists.