Pager Update : The family, George, Debs and their daughter Chrissy, have started their work for Casino Owner Anton. Sexual adventures await. : Update Ends
Meanwhile, while his wife was fucking his new Boss, and his daughter was watching a girl from Damcaster College being filmed giving a blow job, George was feeling very relaxed. He had made it to the clinic in good time, so he'd spent a few minutes in the newsagents picking up a small packet of Chrissy's favourite sweets. Then he marched in and put the pager, with its instructions showing, on the reception desk. The man behind the desk looked at the pager and smiled.
"Welcome sir," he said, handing back the pager. "Anton has sent instructions. You are to have a thorough detox and spruce up."
"Oh, thanks," said George, quite surprised. This didn't feel like work.
"Take this ID," said the receptionist, handing over a plastic disc with a symbol on it. "Through that door and then turn right, into the salon."
George took a peek at the ID. Hmmm, he thought, looks like a star sign, but not one I've ever seen before. It looked like a blend between the female cross-under-a-circle and the male arrow-circle design. He opened the door, turned right, and an assistant took the token from him, consulted a tablet, and guided George to a hairdressers chair.
To George's surprise he was given a hairwash, and then a haircut. Normally he just let his hair grow and asked Debs to cut a bit off when it got too long. This was the first time since he was a child that he'd been in a barbershop. The new style was fairly short and had been cut to give a rather spikey effect. To George's eye it looked a bit feminine in style but, when the hairdresser showed him it in the mirror, like they always do, he just muttered, "Er... fine, fine."
He was passed on to another room. ID examined, he was given a manicure and pedicure. Gosh, he thought, whatever job Anton has for me it's one where I need to look my best. He relaxed back into the chair and let the staff work on him.
The next chamber had a massage table and George was instructed to undress. The table was unusual in that it had a hole for the face, and one further down for his genitalia. He lay, staring at the floor, with his cock dangling through the other hole, as strong fingers massaged all the tension from his body. First his back, then his front. Lying in a haze of perfume from the massage oil he felt straps being put across his body.
"Wassup?" he muttered, he really was very relaxed.
"It's okay sir," came the pleasant reply. "We are going to change the angle of the table, and we don't want you falling off."
"Oh... okay."
The table was raised to 45 degrees and stopped. George relaxed again. A staff member who looked very clinical entered and hunted for a vein in his right arm. Then she inserted a line. Finally she brought over a bag of fluid that she dangled from one of those wheeled drip stands you see in hospitals. As she did this she kept up a continual commentary.
"Afternoon sir... Anton has asked that you have the full detox so we're going to give you an IV... I'm just putting in the needle now... might prick a little... there that was fine.... connecting up the saline... there... and here comes the antitoxin... you might feel a little more relaxed... okay... just nod, if you can... lovely... I'll be back in an hour to check on you. In the meantime this nice man is going to shave you."
George was feeling much more relaxed. Whatever the antitoxin was it certainly made him feel... well not sleepy but he didn't feel he could get off the table, even if he wanted to, which he didn't. The man who had come to give him a shave squirted cream into his hand but, instead of smearing it all across George's chin, took his genitals and covered them and his crotch with a thick layer. Then he set off removing all the hairs around George's scrotum and crack. It was a weird experience lying on the table with something styrange running through his veins, and a man manipulating his cock.
Soon he was being towelled and things felt a little cold down below. Any movement of air could be felt. The man picked something bright and metallic up from his tray and suddenly George's cock was in contact with cold, hard, metal. He struggled to take a look. For a moment, woozy because of the antitoxin being drip fed into his system, he thought his cock had turned into metal. A chromium cock.
"Mr Fagley's instructions," said the man. "Shave and a cock lock. Get used to it. It'll be on for a while."
George looked at it. It was a sort of cage, and was held in place by a loop that locked behind his testicles. Terrible things would happen to them if he tried to remove it, he thought, the loop was too tight to slip off easily, or at all. The cage was the right size for his flaccid cock, and it was obvious he could still pee without any metal getting in the way. He lay back on the bench. It was now too much effort to hold his head up. As he drifted off to sleep his last thoughts were to wonder what on earth he was going to say to Debs about this. How would they make love on Saturday night with this thing on his penis?
Back at the family home the last thing Debs was thinking about was Saturday night. Impaled on Anton's magnificent cock, and held down by his strong grip on her legs, she was waiting to be released so she could show her commitment to her new role. Anton obligingly rolled the pair of them over, putting Debs on top. He was prepared to give her a chance. Would she take it or would she make a run for the door and temporary freedom?
"Show me what you've got, Debbie," he whispered, looking intently into her eyes.
Debs sat up and spread her legs, frog like, and put her hands onto his abdomen. His six pack was hard and strong under her fingers. Then she lifted her hips up and moved herself up his cock. When the head, the wonderful plum sized head, neared her entrance, and pulled on her fanny lips, she stopped. Then plunged back down again until she had taken every inch of him. She groaned with pleasure and did it again, and again, and again, and again, her breath coming faster and faster.