I loaded into what looked like an exercise gymnasium, water proof rubberized flooring beneath me and an angled ceiling with multiple skylights above. The hum of an HVAC system filled the air with a sound that felt oddly nostalgic, considering how mundane it was. Rows of equipment divided the open floor plan into various divisions, all clearly having different purposes. There was even a shelf with baskets of clean towels, and rows of spray cleanser.
If it weren’t for the fact that all the exercise equipment had been replaced with a variety of sex machines, it’d look just like your average membership only gym back home, if an admittedly slightly upscale one.
There was also a massive mirror spanning the opposite wall, giving me a full view of myself, dark violet skin and completely un-earned physique pleasantly present.
Rather than spawning in naked, I was wearing a pair of gym shorts and a basketball tank top. My hair was pulled up into a small ponytail, and I had some red and gray hightop tennies on my feet.
It was a look that was as classically sporty as it was comfortable.
Which was good, because I was definitely going to get sweaty.
I kicked off the shoes pretty much immediately.
That might be poor decorum in a real gym, but this wasn’t that, and I’d be making a mess of the place anyway.
I let my clawed toes sink into the rubber as I walked forward, approaching my first new toy.
I went for the breeding mount, for obvious reasons.
A long time diet of a specific type of pornagraphy had made me feel it was the obvious choice.
Yes, I watched/read futa hentai. Let’s not pretend that I didn’t or that it wasn’t a fairly mainstream fetish by the point that I’d been brain scanned. And yes, as a female leaning individual who was assigned male at birth, I understood why that might seem like a uniquely odd fetish for me to have, specifically.
After all, if we, at a societal level, weren’t supposed to fetishize trans people, why was I personally participating in the fetishization of trans people?
Well, to that I’d say I just happened to be in the same position as a lot of trans women who happened to also happened to be attracted to other women. If you asked one of them if they liked pretty girls because they were attracted to them or because they wanted to be one of them, the answer that a lot of them would give would be simply yes.
The being and the attraction were not entirely separate from each other, but they also didn’t necessarily define each other either, is my point. It was the same with me.
Plus, I was pansexual. I liked hot dogs and tacos. That’s why I'd given myself one of each.
Regardless, I’d also always wanted to have the opportunity to stick a completely impractically sized schlong in an oversized sex toy that had never been intended for human use in the first place. I had ever since I stumbled across the concept online when I was thirteen.
And now I actually could.
This one even came with convenient handles on the sides, and a tube out the front end that led to a transparent collection tank.
I stepped close to the mount, bending over to look inside at the needlessly pink hole that went inside.
Curious, I stuck a finger inside, and then, feeling it be pleasantly warm and gooey in there, I followed that up by pushing in the rest of my hand. It accepted my closed fist easily, but also wrapped around it tightly enough for me to notice.
So obviously the next thing I did was get down on my hands and knees so that I could try and shove my entire arm inside of it.
There was a bit of resistance, but I got all the way in past my bicep with nothing but a few incredibly workplace-inappropriate squishing noises.
Feeling around blindly inside the warm cavity, I felt that the pleasantly bumpy silicone interior was reinforced with braces of something solid in the form of a series of shallow arches that circled the exterior.
Did this thing have an adjustable clamp inside of it for different sizes?
Looking up, I saw a dial on the side of the device, so I turned it, and felt the silicone hole compress inwards, some unseen mechanism cranking the internal diameter up and down as I messed with the dial.
I tightened it as much as possible, my arm still inside. It locked semi-flexibly around me, but didn’t budge more than a couple of millimeters when I tried to force it apart. At the minimum setting, it almost felt like my arm was locked in a pressure cuff.
I’d have to be careful with that.
I turned the dial back enough that I could extricate my arm, and watched as the whole appendage came out covered in hot, viscous lube. I spread the fingers of my hand and watched as strings of fluid formed between each of my digits.
This was going to be fun.
I could already feel my new nethers tingling in unfamiliar, yet enticing ways at just the thought of it.
I stood back up and slipped the front band of my shorts down just enough to get access to the slit that hid my internally stored penis.
I felt a definite dampness just down south of there that tempted me, but I wasn't ready to play with my new hole yet. So I kept my shorts on focused on the space above it.
I gently massaged the area around my cock sheath with lube slicked fingers, teasing the fold open slightly. Then I felt a sharp electric tingle around the entrance. Something inside me started to shift.
My abdominals automatically clenched, as the organ within swelled just enough to feel uncomfortable.
Then it finally slipped loose, and I saw the blue-green tip of my cock finally reveal itself.
I pinched it, like I would normally do when I wanted to wake up my old penis.
The buzz I felt doing that this time, though, was so intense it actually hurt.
My mast shoved itself free from its confines, spearing outwards slowly like bamboo shoots rising from soil.
I looked down and saw what it looked like in first person, for the first time.
It throbbed. I saw veins bulge, as transparent precum dripped from the tip.
I felt the wetness still hidden down blow in my undies grow more intense.
I was so hard that it hurt.
I think I may have been legitimately salivating.
I gently grabbed it, one handed, at the midpoint of the neon colored shaft.
My hand only got two thirds of the way around the circumference.
But where my fingers touched, it felt raw, like the flesh of my glands used to be.
That made a certain amount of sense. There was no foreskin protecting any part of it. I’d settled for the bare and exposed look, since I was going to keep it stowed away most of the time.
Lube was clearly going to be mandatory now, though.
That was fine.
Given how much I was leaking from my own pointed tip, I didn’t think I’d ever be short of the stuff.
I turned my hips to align with the breeding mount a little better, and saw the massive weight of it bob from the small motion.
Then, with one hand, I guided the head to the inviting silicone entrance before me. I took a deep breath.
And then, with my other hand clutching one of the handlebars on the side of the mount for dear life, I pushed.
The sharp point of my head slid in easily, and guided in the rest.
My whole body shuddered.
I felt like I was a teenager discovering masturbation for the first time again, all the sensations so new and different.
I felt tingles around the head that escalated to a sensation like burning and pins and needles all at once.
My legs shook, and I had to lean forward with both hands on the mount for stability.
My back was arched, the length of my dick still mostly outside the mount.
I resisted the urge to reflexively start massaging my own backdoor. I'd get to that later, I was sure, but for now I wanted to take this one step at a time.
Then, with my hips elevated and my spine contorted, I forced myself to lean forward and relax.
I slipped inside automatically, my weight pressing in and down.
The wave of sensation I felt reminded me of taking a massage gun to my dick while it was pressed to the wooden surface of my desk, forcing myself not to clench, and just let the overwhelming stimulation happen.
I’ve always been kind of severely masochistic, so the intensity of it all was welcome.
The fact that it was so intense that it hurt was what I wanted.
And there was a lot of very sensitive shaft to stimulate, now, so I was getting plenty of that.
As I slipped into the heated wet confines of the mount, inch by inch, I felt the very literal heat from inside the device combine with the growing heat of my internals.
My fucking pussy was burning, and nothing was even touching it.
I felt my stomach finally come to a rest on the padded top of the mount, and then I just lied there for a moment, letting myself calibrate.
The building heat had come perilously close to bursting out, for a moment, and I didn’t want to cum yet.
I wanted to enjoy this for a while, before I let it out for the first time in this new body.
I felt every pulse of my heartbeat in my dick, as it struggled against the walls of silicone that constricted around it.
If I so much as twitched, at that moment, I knew I would cum.
So I forced myself to just wait.
To do nothing, even as it all was so close to climax that it was actively painful.
I liked it when it hurt, after all.
After a few deep breaths, I felt the stubborn heat recede slightly. It all started to fade, and I let it go until I was almost back to baseline.
I pushed myself upright, and craned my head to look down.
I was inserted almost all the way in.
All that was outside of the mount was my knot.
And I was saving that.
So I gripped the handlebars once more, and forced myself back and out, just slightly.
I felt numerous bumps and swells scrape against the sharply flared base of my tip, a literal vacuum of damp suction fighting back against my movements with the sound of sopping wet slop.
I felt my calves turn into jelly, and was forced to lean forward onto the mount again.
I twisted the dial on the side to loosen everything up a little.
Then I pulled back with one sharp yank, like ripping off a bandaid.
I felt my asshole clench, my rear instinctively craving something to fill it, as the space behind my navel filled with heat again, pleasure rippling out from my dick and up the front of my body.
I shoved it back in before I could grow used to the feeling, and my eyes rolled back in my skull as a high pitched moan escaped my throat.
Then I just rocked back and forth for a little bit, my body stuck at the fantastic point where it was too overwhelmed to even cum properly.
Like going jumping straight to using a massage wand after being locked in a chastity cage for three weeks.
I panted out throaty breaths, my hips grinding in and out as sweat ran down my skin so heavily that my tanktop was quickly soaked through.
I felt something else running down the inside of my thighs.
My nerves finally reset enough that my orgasm started to build again.
I pumped in and out a little faster, feeling every ridge and bump of my absurdly shaped phallus being massaged with sublime, hot, stiff wetness.
The base of my dick, where the knot still was left exposed, was pulsing with a painful pressure that demanded release.
I pulled nearly all the way out, actually having to step back slightly, and then rammed it home fully for the first time, my knot lodging into the hole with a loud pop.
I felt the heat and pressure all build to a crescendo, and the knot at my base swelled, shoving against the walls of its confines oh so painfully.
I came so fucking hard that I lost all control of my body below my belly button.
I caught myself with the handles, as my legs became non-responsive, toes curling and muscles spasming.
I felt the electric heat surge across everything else, including the ache in vagina and the itching emptiness of my neglected ass.
I let out a harsh hitching noise, as my larynx constricted without my permission while I was trying to breath out.
My spine felt like it was on fire.
One eye was wide open and the other halfway shut, as I hazily gazed at the large mirror in front of me. My mouth was caught in something that looked more like a grimace than anything else, and slobber freely flowed from one corner of my contorted cheeks, clenched shark teeth on full display.
I could feel every twitch of my body in my dick as it pulsed its cum into the mount. The sight of the neon blue semen getting sucked down the pipe and into the tank below me was absurd enough that I would have laughed, had I anything left of my senses.
As was, I just shuddered and shivered, every movement shooting overexposed pain through my member, locked in place as it was.
Then, when I started to come around and I remembered where I was, I put my hand on the dial.
I knew what I was about.
What I wanted.
And this wasn’t nearly enough.
In jerking motion, I twisted the dial to maximum tightness, and my overly raw and sensitive cock got crushed in a vice.
A ragged, stuttering scream forced its way out of my throat.
And then I lost control of every muscle in my body, that unique post orgasm pain filling my entire being and frying my nerves.
I lost my grip on the handlebars, and my feet stopped pretending to even do their job, my ankle twisting inwards as my torso started to slide limply off of the mount.
At which point I remembered that I was firmly knotted into place, and couldn’t actually move without consequences.
As I started to fall to the ground, my knot kept my cock firmly in place, and I felt like I was at risk of being torn apart.
My hamstrings contracted, some synapse or another pointlessly firing and trying to right myself.
My legs just kicked behind me uselessly, and the sharp jerking motion just caused my cock to hurt even more.
I was openly sobbing now, tears and snot all flowing freely down my face and running down my neck to my chest.
The pain was beyond being too much, and the fact that it was flavored with even the slightest amount of pleasure just made it so much worse.
I couldn’t move, but every moment that I simply hung from where my cock was lodged was another moment of torture, and even I had my limits.
I forced one of my arms to move from where it was hanging by my side, and I felt everything in me jerk and clench in response.
I couldn’t even breathe anymore.
Every motion blanketed my whole body with the agonizing static of pins and needles.
Fueled with nothing but desperation, I willed my hand into motion, groping blindly for the safety bars.
My sweat slicked hand slipped ineffectively off the metal surface, but the motion of my flailing right arm continued, causing my body to slip fully off the side of the mount.
My dick was forced to twist in place, and if I had the capacity to black out, I definitely would have at that moment.
As was, I just went as close to insensate as it was possible for my artificial consciousness to be.
When I finally started to go flaccid and the pain and pleasure stopped, I found myself face down on the rubber flooring, a number of fluids covering my cheek, my neck bent at an angle, and one of my shoulders pressed down into the ground.
My eyes were blurry, tears and god knows what else obscuring my vision.
I moved one of my arms, and was relieved when doing so brought nothing but a dull ache.
I felt my mast starting to shrink and go soft, finally giving me relief from the sharp angle it had been bent at.
My ass, raised up in the air with legs limply wrapped around the top of the mount, started to shift.
I braced with both arms, pushing shakily up off the ground in an attempt to steady myself while being held upside down.
Then my cock finally slipped free from its prison.
The back half of my body slipped down all at once, and hit the ground with a splash of fluid and a sharp slapping sound.
I coughed a couple of times, and weakly lifted my head up from the ground to wipe the gunk out of my eyes.
Then I gathered myself into a cross legged position with my back against the cool steel pole that held the breading mount up.
Some lube or cum dripped down from above and splattered on the side of my left calf.
I held still and panted softly, not feeling like it was worthwhile to even try cleaning myself up yet.
Exhaustedly, I realized that was probably one of the best orgasms I’d ever had.