She must be so sick of that damned tube.
So sick.
The problem is, she's here pretty much permanently...
Her belly is huge now, so is her butt. She pretty much always having something forced down her throat, so i guess its the cost of doing business. I just wish she'd been smart enough to negotiate a different deal.
It's my fault really. I forced her into a contract with a fairly shady company. Great pay, permanent accommodation, little to no risk of job loss. She snapped it up as soon as it was offered and flew overseas to a new life. Only, when we got here...
So here was the deal. I got a full visa and all expenses paid. This company wanted to test a new hormone and my friend here was to be a test subject. It was supposed to have a few side effects, bloating, lactation and the like, but was also meant to cure hunger. Well, I thought world hunger, and i THOUGHT they were the side effects, anyway. Really, they were the targeted results...
The only thing I remember about the process was the sheer volume of pills she had to take. Hundreds a day. I helped her keep them in order of course and eventually she started to miss usual meals. But the deal was simple - she lived on these pills until the test period was up. She didn't show any signs of change at first, but I did notice she seemed much less energised. kind of lethargic. I put it down to the fact she only ate these weird pills but there was something more concerning me. I couldn't place my finger on what.
Roughly a month went by. My friend - Lynn - had stuck to the program and was apparently making progress. The only difference I could see was that she'd masturbate more frequently, she even came on to me a few times. I spurred her advances but it was tough to see her succumbing to the med's like this. Non the less, stage two started. Injections. She used to hate needles but when it came time for her first shot she grabbed the opportunity to leave the accommodation. She dressed sluttier than she used to find appropriate but i put it down to being cooped up so long. When we got to the office she sat down and I could see an obvious wet patch around her crotch. I told the 'doctor', who claimed it was fine and sent us home. To me it seemed off.
Again, the next month passed. I noted her behaviour devolving further. Some days she'd grab my tits and act really aggressive when I tried to push her away. I ended up calling security one night when she forcibly pulled down my pants and began trying to finger me. That's when things changed and Lynn was taken to a 'secure facility'. They'd employed me as her carer so I was told I'd have new duties there.
It transpired that the 'best' cause of action was to keep Lynn in a cell. She was forced to wear a belt that kept her hands strapped by her waist due to the fact that her... For lack of a better word, hornyness, was beginning to take over her mind. She'd assaulted several of the staff there, male and female alike, and tried to perform sex acts on them. I was sure they'd deem the experiment a failure and try to reverse the effects but alas, they just continued. They kept me working as her pill counter. I was practically forced to keep drugging my friend, they wouldn't let me out of the contract.
They are a scary organisation. I did begin to resent them but if I openly tried to leave I feared for my safety. Instead, I carried on my job and tried to plan an escape for myself and Lynn. I hated seeing her constantly crying, not out of pain but sexual frustration. Her hair was a mess and if she had makeup on that day mascara would run all down her pretty face. But it got worse. Eventually I started to notice wet spots like before, not only on her trousers but soaking through her shirt too. She was starting to lactate extremely heavily.
She begged to be fucked every time I visited now. As far as I know she never was by any of the staff but I did wonder if she ever had sex. She would have done it with anybody at this point and surely weak willed staff members would love an easy lay. I requested her room to be recorded, just in case and the company obliged right away.
I never caught people having sex with Lynn but I did see how she behaved alone. She'd do anything to try and cum, strange things, like spitting on herself and grinding against the doors and walls. Her hands where in a position that she couldn't use and she was dressed every morning so she had no access to her pussy but she tried so hard anyway. I watched her, my friend and an ex-dignified woman wet herself frequently just so that she'd have a sensation down there. Eventually it became hard to tell when it was urine and when it was cum.
This is when I began to hatch a plan. I started to harbour footage of Lynn's bizarre changes and stockpile it. The media would love this and I might have been able to blackmail the company to start working on a cure. Unfortunately, symptoms where getting worse and more extreme. The lactation issue seemed to be filling up Lynns breasts at a gargantuan rate and I could have sworn on some days her cup size increased by at least two. Eventually they got so big that the clothes they gave her began to rip.
We ended up covering her with blankets. I did it to reserve some sense of dignity but she hated the whole thing. She ended up trying to bite people who came too close so she was gagged to prevent the risk. I really wept for her.
It was at this point that the company started asking me to sponge bath Lynn. I did, of course, but I couldn't help but feel it was inappropriate to make me do it. Lynn would use it as an excuse to try and cum, constantly pushing her hips into the sponge. I knew she was gone as a rational person from this point onward, she was just a horny animal. It didn't last much longer until 'Phase two' began.
It was a Saturday evening when I got the call to come to Lynns room. There was a small crowd and some burly gentlemen, looking as if they where readying themselves for a fight. Lynn, noticing the crowd, was already at the window obscenely presenting herself. I sighed. There was a frame in the hallway that looked like it was meant to hold a person in place - at the time I was sure it was just to ensure her safety during transport.
I sat down and watched as my former friend was dragged from her cell screaming and forcibly strapped in to the strange frame. She was in a crawling position except her hands were extended behind her back. Her large breasts hung below her looking extremely heavy and occasionally a drip would fall to the floor. She was calming down until someone covered her backside with a towel and she realised she was still not going to get fucked, so she started again, struggling in her bonds and shouting foul things at the guards. Occasionally she'd turn to me, pleading with her eyes and trying to understand what was going on. I'm ashamed to say I just went along with what was happening and followed the frame as it was wheeled through the facility.
Lynn was taken to a lab outside the companies main building. It was an extremely secure placement and building but had a rustic vibe to it, kind of like a large shed. Lynn didn't stop whining until another strange device was pulled in to view - it looked like a milking machine. Several workers surrounded her and began to apply different devices to Lynn, mostly electrodes and monitors before a husky woman entered the room.
She looked like the boss. She gave everyone in the room a sharp look before indicating to the women to proceed. I was forced to sit down with her and discuss Lynns 'progress' so far in detail. From the constant arousal to the embarrassing sexual displays, she wanted to know all of it. During this 'chat', Lynn was crying out obscene quotes and desperately trying to goad people in to fucking her.
Eventually I heard a sharp yelp and turned around in shock. To my absolute horror I watched as my friend had a tube forced down her throat and secured as she seemingly struggled to resist. I stood up, knocking my chair back and tried to run up to her, to pull the tube out. I was furious! But all that I managed to do was swear at the men doing it before being forcibly sat back down. It was down right humiliating, but I was forced to carry on my interview, even when she was hooked up to a feeder.