The Astronaut

*CH9. The Guest House

One year later I was still living in a guest house on Jeff's compound. He had me write a letter of resignation to work, and email my friends and family to say that I was leaving to travel the world. For about the first month I cried in my bed at night, but I gradually got used to my new life. A few times a month I would host a different guest, or sometimes a group, all men of course. Other than that, aside from cleaning and preparing meals, I mostly hung out with Vanessa and her friends by the pool. I wasn't allowed a phone but Jeff got me a book on how to be the perfect woman, and another on how to please a man. For an hour a day I was expected to study them, and sometimes he gave me homework. There was also a large stack of Playgirl magazines, and the rule was that I had to carry at least two with me everywhere. Jeff would get upset if I wasn't looking at the pictures of naked men because he knew how "boy crazy" I was.

My clit, as they all called it, was locked in a flat circular steel cage. Unlike the pink plastic, the flat metal piece pushed my penis and balls back up into my body so it looked like there was nothing there at all. I grew my hair long, got adept at doing my makeup, and of course was only allowed to wear women's clothes. Speaking of which, I was also given hormones each morning, and formed feminine curves around my hips and a more protruding ass. I also developed small breasts. Every time Julie came by she would inspect them closely, running her hands over my little buds, and remark on what an "ugly girl" I was becoming. I didn't care for her, but I was expected to take orders from everyone, and thank them for it. Anytime I acted out, even for small things like not calling a man sir or giving a curtsy, I was spanked. When I resisted, I was beaten. At night I often cried, for my old life, and my family. But I was in too deep. The memories of my old life felt like stars in the night sky, untouchable and far, far away.

With guests Jeff's rule was no broken bones and no scars, which left a lot on the table. Most of the guys just wanted to fuck me though, albeit roughly. I got pretty used to being aggressively throat and ass fucked, and even enjoyed it at times. Some of the men treated me like a princess and it was actually kind of sweet. But the bad ones were really, really bad. The worst was probably the Middle Easterners. There were 5 of them from one of those repressive countries where you get the death penalty for being gay, and they wanted nothing to do with Vanessa and the other girls. The first night they played poker while passing me around to fuck me in their laps, with the game never stopping. They didn't want the cage on either, preferring to fondle my penis for good luck, and then celebrating each time they made me ejaculate onto the table.

That wasn't the really bad part though. That started later in the week when one of the larger men (Amir) didn't pull out after finishing. He whispered in my ear that he had a special gift for me, and then I felt him pissing inside me. My rectum swelled as it filled with his urine, and when he finished I felt bloated. I could feel my ass leaking and tried to run to the bathroom, but they stopped me, and gave me a tampon to plug myself. The rest of the night everywhere I walked I could feel it sloshing around. Before bed, Amir made it very clear that I was to wait until morning to empty and clean myself, but only after I tidied up the house and made breakfast.

I was uncomfortable all night, and I hated knowing that his piss was inside me. In the morning while I cooked, the guys kept slapping my ass and making me thank them for the privilege of carrying a man's piss. After finishing the dishes I felt like I was gonna explode, and went to run up the stairs to the bathroom, but Amir grabbed my hair and pulled me back. He handed me a glass and told to empty myself into it. The guys all stood around me as I squatted over it, and cheered as I started "peeing" dark yellow liquid from my butthole. When I finished the glass was almost full of brackish fluid, and Amir told me to drink it down for good luck. I considered saying no, but I knew they would just beat me and then make me do it anyways. So I started drinking.

I got through the first couple swallows, but on the last half I started retching and almost threw up. Amir said I could take my time, but while I caught my breath he peed in the glass, filling it back up. The second time I again got about halfway and then my stomach lurched and I threw up onto the kitchen floor. The vomit was mostly piss, so not too bad, but when I looked back at the glass it was full of piss again. It wasn't until the fifth try that I was able to get it all down. I thanked the guys and ran upstairs before they could fill it again.