FSE

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His mind was stirred.

The subtle tremor in the gelatin that encased his body pinged him back to consciousness. His lungs quivered as he found his diaphragm, the first breath a deep gasp to compensate for the long period of suspension.

The mask he wore crackled as it tried to deliver oxygen as fast as it could to fulfill his desperate gulp for air. The saturated gas it supplied was laced with a perturbing and artificial flavor. With each breath, his disgust for the supplied air dwindled to a begrudging tolerance.

As the seconds ticked by, he became more and more impatient. The memories came back, like whacks on his head. Both the agitation of being in prolonged suspension, and the anticipation of being released, made him giddy--or perhaps it was just the induced oxygen-high.

The gelatin softened to a slimy, clumpy liquid. It began to drain from the hermetic chamber. Now and again, in his gelatin-clogged ears, he could hear the powerful suction that sapped the aqueous solution away.

Gravity began to take hold, and as his body was exposed to the sterile and chilly air that hissed into the chamber from above, he felt the pressure of his own weight upon the gurney to which he had been tethered.

Though he wanted to, he could barely move his arms and legs. Though he opened them, he could only see bleary streaks of gray and white in his eyes. Though he strained them, he could only make out the hiss and gurgle in his obstructed ear canals.

After several agonizing minutes, of slow hermetic decompression, the uneasy silence muted even his anxiety. Were it not for the ringing in his ear, he might have mistaken this experience for death--had he not felt the same way the first time.

It had been years since he was last put into suspension. It was always uncomfortable and wracking during the decompression, no matter how many times around. But he could bear it, for the experience to come was more than worth the experience that would come to pass.

Amidst the tinnitus, a low hiss came from his left. Against the blurry noire, a sluice of light cut across the curve of the chamber's glass-like boundary. The area was illuminated, but slightly; just enough to see by.

He anxiously blinked, eyes still wincing from the light.

A pair of what he understood to be hands caught the attention of his left-periphery. They made a motion of snapping on latex gloves. The tinkling of metal was felt more against the top of his skull than heard from within the canals of his ears, which reflexively twitched.

Tickled by cold, sterile steel, he clenched his teeth as a gentle pressure discomforted his ear-canals. The suction slurped and gurgled for a few seconds, before a wave of relief washed over the sinuses on the right side of his face. A moment later, and the same discomfort and euphoric sensation applied to the left half.

He relaxed with an exhale of relief.

"Tello." The soft voice spoke; friendly, yet directive. "Blink three times if you can hear me."

He obeyed.

"Good, good, good." She praised. "Putting in some eye-drops."

He instinctively squinted as the gloved fingers touched near his lids. They were gently forced open, just long enough for two drops apiece to sting him in the eyes. His tear-ducts began to swell from agitation. He became teary, but the tissue was swift and patted comfortingly to absorb to drainage.

When he managed to open them again, the clarity of his vision was relieving. Then it was killed by a bright light blazing right into his retina.

"Look left."

He obeyed, out of agitation for the torturous examination to be over-with more than anything. The light quickly flicked away.

"Look right."

Again, a few seconds of agitation, before it was flicked away.

"Now up."

He began to express himself with deep, huffy breaths into the mask.

"I know," she replied with sympathy, flicking the light away. "Just look down for me, please."

He obeyed begrudgingly.

"Okay."

The light retreated, and he let out a sigh of ease. His nostrils flared behind the mask, his next objective to get it off as soon as possible. But he was readily obliged. His head was gently lifted, and the seal undone. Again, his sinuses felt a distinct change in pressure. His ears popped. Thin, runny mucus began trickling out from his left nostril. Again, the tissue was adept, catching it before it embarrassingly dribbled over his lips.

When the tissue was pulled away, it was tinted pink, just a little.

"I'm going to lie you back." She stated.

He looked to his left. As the switch was flicked and the gurney began to rise at his heels, he got to see her for what seemed like the first time.

"Welcome to the other side, Tello." The mink smiled, undoing the tethers that stabilized him to the gurney. "Can you speak yet? Maybe say my name?"

"Nnnhhh... Nohhh... Nnnd..." His tongue felt new. The muscle, cold and paralyzed, began to come back to life. It made lazy syllables as though it were the first time it was made to do such a thing. But, after several more slurred attempts, he managed: "Doctor... Min--M-Mindleby."

"Very good," she complimented, her latex gloves crinkling as she peeled them from her hands. "Don't worry if it takes a bit longer to get your bearings; suspension is harder on some than others, even successively."

He sat up, and his sense of balance pitched.

"Careful," she tittered, making to brace him lest his own startled motions do more harm to his orientation than his own perceptions. After he settled down, she had him move his feet off the gurney and onto the rest that she pulled out from underneath it. His recovery was snowballing reasonably, and he was using his hands to steady himself, which showed that his gross motor-skills were already returning.

Dr. Mindleby donned a fresh pair of gloves, and reached for a few more instruments on the sterile cart residing just off the suspension-chamber's platform. "I prefer using the more antiquated methods," she commented, noticing his curious stare as she wrapped the blood-pressure meter about his upper arm. "I like to because it's... more personable," she explained, fitting in the ear-buds of a Stethoscope. She threaded her fingers down to the bell, and delicately pressed it against his back as she continued; "I find it actually helps you acclimate faster to being... touched, after suspension."

He took in a stilted breath, the cold metal sending a chill up and down his spine as the sphygmometer angrily constricted his arm.

"That's it, breathe in and out--but slowly this time. Good, again. Again. Again."

Each time, she placed the bell of the stethoscope to another spot on his back, and he fought the urge to wriggle. The sphygmometer also let out its own held breath, and the compression on his arm was relieved.

Dr. Mindleby looked at the readout, and tore at the Velcro, releasing it entirely. "All your vitals check out," she smiled. "You're 'fit as a fiddle,' as they used to say."

He smiled back. "Th--thanks," he said, still getting used to his voice.

"Don't thank me, yet," she said, gazing at him from the side of a wry eye-squint. "We're not quite done. Do you want a few more minutes to rest, or do you want to try to walk?"

"Walk," he replied, and she immediately took action. He took her hand, still within the latex casing, and was supported on the other shoulder. His limbs began to tickle with pins and needles as he jerkily fumbled to get off of the gurney. It was embarrassing, to say the least; the way she touched his chest, stomach, and back made his blood feel thin and his head a bit dizzy. But after a few moments he was standing; legs shaky, but stable.

The room beyond the chamber lit up. Though, not from lights above, but from the grass. The luminescent grass glowed white. By now, his eyes were able to adjust to the brightness, dimming it to a comfortable level. The room was pleasant in scenery: a clearing of trees in a dusk-lit wood. It was small; only big enough to pace around in a loop of maybe fifty paces. Correction: maybe a hundred.

"The mirror is right over there. Watch your step," she beckoned, one hand still holding his for support.

He stepped off of the suspension-chamber platform, his bare feet touching the lush, warm grass. It was more akin to carpet in feel, as it was engineered to be that way. Clean, luminous, and comfortable enough to serve as a bed.

She guided him by the hand toward the mirror, still rippling as the simulated trees dispelled. But, even before he was brought to full bear within the reflective crystal, he understood the dramatic effects just by the way the world felt differently.

The distance between his eye-level and the ground was drastically closer. His stride was narrower, and the fingers that sifted through the supple red fur of his coat were stubbier and narrower.

The body in the mirror was his, and yet not his--it was once his, in the most literal sense of the term. It had grown up, changed; matured. After eighteen years, the demure and childish form had been left behind. But there, in the mirror, it was reflected back at him--not as an illusion, but as a reality.

The stunted muzzle with tiny canines and dark-brown tic-marks at the cheeks. The limbs so skinny, yet with muscles that were youthfully toned. The sleek-furred tail that just barely came within six inches of the ground.

The body he had when he was eight years old.

Dr. Mindleby's head appeared behind his right shoulder in the mirror. The mink was nearly ten inches taller than he, her body youthful just like his; almost a teen. There was no way to tell her real age--but that didn't matter. "I am legally obligated to remind you," she said, almost begrudgingly, "of the terms you accepted going into this. I've personally done my best to make sure your body meets your exact specifications." She reached up and massaged his shoulders. "If there's anything not to your satisfaction, we can revert the changes or try again; but you'll have to go into suspension for up to a week, depending."

Butterflies began to stir in his stomach as she rested her chin upon his shoulder, staring at him in the eyes by proxy of his reflection.

"I like it... S--So far," he replied.

She smiled. "Good. However..."

He watched nervously as her hands hooked inside of his arms. He haphazardly clasped over one as the other wandered to the slip held about his waist.

"I'm also legally obligated," she said, with a hint of anticipation, "to ensure all specifications meet your satisfaction."

At the final word, she unhooked the join of the slip and it fell to the ground about his ankles.

In the mirror, he watched as her eyes examined his fully nude body--along with his own. The white tummy-fur of his coat tapered inward at the top of his thighs. The gently-closed entrance of his sheath stood out against the vibrant white groin-fur. Between his thighs, his fuzzy sack snuggled tightly against his body. Though, his testicles were, compared to the other proportions of his childish body, much larger than they were at his real passing of this age. They were perhaps five or six years ahead of the rest of his body--except for a select other part.

"C'mere," Dr. Mindleby said, coaxing him to turn about.

Bashfully, he pivoted on his heels. He stared at her bare feet on the ground, and his eyes slowly rose up, almost shamefully. But as his panning passed her knees and approached her thighs, he noticed that the once-buttoned smock was now entirely open and asway.

He blinked rapidly, debating whether or not to keep going--or futilely try to flee.

"Don't be shy, Tello," she said softly and with encouragement. "Remember, you're meant to, here. We encourage it."

His eyes pulsed as the smock fell to a heap a few inches behind her. But, licking his lips, and feeling both giddy and anxious, he dared to indulge his desires.

It was surreal, to believe his dreams and fantasies could be made tangible. Even if he knew her real age, it wouldn't have broken the liberation he felt, gawking at the girl's unabashed display of her body.

The supple mound was more beautiful than anything he had seen before. To witness it in flesh was to drink waters from the most forbidden fountain. Her white coat about the supple pink was almost designed to allow the sight to be easily understood by his eyes.

"So, why don't you tell me," she said, catching his attention. His eyes met hers, and his face had that adorably-cute caught expression that most of the first-timers had, despite the environment and situation. "What about little girls do you like the most?"

He took a breath, and looked about nervously. "I--I-I--" Suddenly, he felt a touch at his hand. He jerked his gaze back to the doctor, her hand clutching his.

"Tello," she spoke sympathetically. "I read your profile. I already know the answer." She squeezed his hand, and stepped back again. "The best advice I can give you, is to get used to letting your true nature loose--let it run wild," she spread her arms. "Here, it's allowed to. You're among strangers who you'll find know more about you and what you want than you could possibly imagine--and you'll find you know the same things about them."

He took a hesitant step back as she approached him again. But, the way she spoke compelled him to allow her to get close enough that their fronts gently touched together.

"It's all a perfect symbiotic relationship, really. We're all here because we have similar mutual needs; while others help satisfy our own needs, we satisfy the needs of others. We are all both a king and a pawn. Even now, between the two of us, we are playing our mutual parts.

"So," she said, her nose bumping his as she stared slightly down into his eyes, "why not let your true nature loose for me..."

He blinked and tensed as his testicles were taken into her hands.

"...And I'll fulfill its needs, hm?" She gently squeezed his sac. She absolutely delighted acclimating the newcomers. They were so adorable; the way they underwent such drastic cognitive dissonance. They willingly struggled through months of evaluations, proverbial "forests of paperwork," and all manner of prerequisites, to get into the community. Then, when they awoke after the procedure and were put face-to-face with the reality that they had fantasized about for so long; they felt guilt, shame, and all the other emotions that came with a history of social outcasting.

Not all, for sure, had this kind of experience. Some first-timers were more than ready to take up the opportunity to fulfill their desires. But she did not quite enjoy introducing them to the community as she did those who were like Tello.

She almost felt it was a noble act. She absolutely loved it when they came back to her after some time, and thanked her for being so understanding. She also took that opportunity to see how much they had changed and learned. It was a sort of internal study of hers, to validate her approach--not to mention, it got her off to no end that she was responsible for spurring their confidence and performance.

She particularly liked acclimating the boys. Though the girls were satisfying, too. But there were more boys that suffered from this cognitive dissonance than girls. She particularly liked boys because of the degree of change; the way it played out never got old.

During the first experience, she was typically the one in charge, as she was now with Tello. But for the second, as with most others, he would likely take it upon himself to take charge and reciprocate her gentleness with the most gratifyingly passionate aggression.

"C'mon Tello," she cooed, releasing his sac. She plopped down on her rear at his feet, and looked up, stroking his calf. "Why don't you take a good long look at me, and then let me take a good long look at you, deal?" She leaned back, setting her heels on either side of him, and rested on her palms.

He bit his lip as he gazed down at the doctor's expertly performed smile of innocence. The nervousness began to morph into arousal--two feelings so similar he hadn't even realized it happened until he was moving to his hands and knees. He was still locked with her eyes, but she looked downward, and so did he, just as she rested the outsides of her knees onto the grass.

Her elevenish-year-old flower was presented to him. The contour of her mound guided his eyes to the peeping labia, pink and nearly disguised within her fur. He ogled her at that natural distance for a few moments, his blood stirring, and made to lean forward, but halted. He looked up at her, silently asking permission.

"Get closer," she encouraged. "It turns anyone on just as much as it does you."

He noticed that her cheeks had taken on a lustful blush, along with her perpetually-maturing chest. Emboldened, he lowered to peer more closely at her. As he was within just a few inches, her fingers appeared on either side of her sealed petals, and coaxed them to bloom before his eyes.

The scent that drifted to his nose was more than enough to make him swell in a throb. The subtle, fleshy squelch her immature sex made as she peeled the labia apart tickled his ears. The way a strand of her nectar clung on either side across her opening made his heart thunder with delight. Her pert clitoris almost vocally tempted him to latch on and assault it with his tongue.

He leaned in, exhaling a heated breath.

"Ah-ah-ah!" She admonished, letting go of putting herself on display for him and touching the two fingers she had used against his forehead. "I said look." When he glanced up at her with such betrayed eyes, she cooed and stroked the fingers over his temple and down his cheek. "Aw, c'mon, don't gimme that face. You'll see more cute little budding flowers than you know what to do with. Trust me."

He receded as she pressed against him, signaling him to straighten up. As he did, he looked down, noticing the obstruction in his lap.

He startled as she squealed, dashing to her knees and clasping her hands near her left cheek; as if he had just given her a surprise present. The reaction muddied the notion that either of them were adults. His mind had already begun to accept the world he perceived as the reality.

His penis throbbed at his resolution.

"I made you that hard? You musta reeeaaally liked lookin' at my privies--and I'm almost a teen!" She leaned inward, pressing her hand to his chest and gently pushing.

He followed her motion, and rested back on his palms, giving her access in the same manner she gave him.

"Let's see..."

He watched as she pointed her finger at the base of his penis. A spark of light twinkled, marking the position, and then she moved her finger along his length's side. A blue line appeared on the side of his flesh, until she reached his tip. The number that popped into the air displayed a bit askew to him.

"Eight-and-a-half inches long." She nodded, and then gripped him with her index-finger and thumb. The blue line faded, and another appeared when she released him, left behind where her fingers were. The number displayed to both of them a bit askew, but she announced: "Four inches in girth at the midsection." She braced the underside of his length with her right palm and used her left finger to trace his features; half confirming for her, and half demonstrating to him.

"Gentle, Silk-Touch-grade Stimulation Barbs about the upper-section; I call 'em Little Ticklers." She rubbed them, making him twitch. "Then, you have the median rib; which I like to call The Ring Around The Pokey," she giggled, flicking her finger over the abrupt ring of harder, raised tissue about the middle of his shaft. "And there's ol' trusty," she prodded him at his base, where his knot would form, "which I will have to look at later," she informed him with a smile. "Then... One sec, I need something for this one."

He swallowed.

She quickly stood up and skipped over to one of the trees. It rippled as she disturbed its simulation, opening a drawer. She trotted back, and knelt beside him. She held up the object in her hand, remarking: "This is my little girly-part." Her words were literal; she held in her hands a disembodied copy of her vagina, unglamorous as it was.

Constructed from synthecytes, it looked somewhat akin to a mold-block. But, it was a fully-functioning, autonomous vagina. It behaved and reacted the exact same way as the original between her legs; could even orgasm, organically or conditionally.

"I know you know the parts, but, I have to do this so we're clear because sometimes suspension makes you a little foggy," she said, mocking a boring and disinterested tone. She tugged on either side of the model, and it split in half readily. "So, there's my vulva, vaginal canal, and back here is my cervix," she pointed out each part, the vulva pointed toward him. "Up to speed?" She asked with a smile.

He timidly nodded.

She closed it together, and it healed. "Here," she proffered it and winked, "I think you know what to do with it."

With a tentative hand, he took the model. It was warm and fleshy to his touch. It wasn't the first time he held a synthecyte model, but it was the first time he held one in front of the actual person to whom it belonged.

Under her observant gaze, he steadied his cubhood and placed the model against his tip. He pushed down, breaking through the model's hymen and slipping in a few inches.

"Ohhhhhh Tello," Dr. Mindleby moaned. When she saw him shudder and curl up like an embarrassed puppy, she giggled. "Sorry. I'm just teasing. Let me take over, please." When her hands poised to hold the model, his receded. "Now, let's just..." She gently twisted and pushed down on the model, working it down his erection. The real thing began trickling, having to endure the groans and whimpers that he tried to stifle but wound up slipping out. "Tight fit, aren't I?" She said with a smile.

He shivered, and then yipped when he bottomed out.

"There! Whew, wasn't sure if I could get all of you inside me," she said, panting to continue the teasing play. "I'm just so little and you're just so big," she cooed, resting a hand on his tummy below his navel, pressing down and rubbing it. "So, when you're ready, I want you to penetrate my cervix," she instructed.

He let out a heated pant, his face getting warm. He rested his hands on the cervical-end of the model, bracing it. With light breaths, counting to three, he pushed up with his hips and down with his hands. He let out another embarrassing squeak when he felt the tight flesh against his tip suddenly relax, and his tip pushed through half an inch. Tears fell from his eyes. This time, there wasn't a tissue to dry them, so he used one hand to clear them up.

"There we go. See?" She pointed, tilting the cervical-end of the model toward him.

Tello watched as small tendrils began sprouting from the half-inch of flesh dilating the cervix. They slithered out over the interior uterine wall like snakes crawling down on the ground from a tree. There were six, working their way out in a meandering path until they were about two inches long.

"Cervico-uterine stimulating bristle-glans; or, as I call them, Tippy Brushes." She gently secured one between forefinger and thumb, pulling it up. "Hundreds of teeny-tiny bristles cling to the uterine wall. At rest, they microstimulate--she might not notice it, but her body sure will, and react in different ways. Some will ripple, some will squeeze, others will flutter. As you pull out, the bristles catch and stroke along the uterine and cervical tissues, giving her a little parting gift while you pull out." She pulled up on the model, pulling him back through.

He grunted and twitched, but watched as his tip receded from the cervix, and the little tendrils half-followed. But, before they were halfway out, they got stuck within the clenching muscle.

"They detach on the way out, you won't even feel it, but she sure will," she pointed, showing that the little tendrils were squirming and wriggling all about in their trap, trying to pull their way back into the uterus. "They dissolve pretty quickly, and the next time you pass through more will grow. Each time, unless you don't allow them to." She pulled the model off him entirely, and then unabashedly gave the vulva a long, sultry lick before setting it aside.

"Now..." She leaned over him, gazing into his eyes. "In order to confirm the rest of your specifications..." She crawled back, lowering her chin until it rested on his tummy. "I have to..." She dragged her chin down until her cheek rested against his cubhood, looking up at him. Then, bracing the other side with her palm, she ran her tongue from his base to his tip.

He saw a flash of light whip across his vision. His entire body went limp and felt paralyzed. A convulsion of pleasure spasmed through him, felt only a few seconds after the numbing and tingling subsided. He managed to crane his neck to look up at her with shock.

She tittered. "I always wonder if greenies choose to have clitoral tissue because they know what they're getting into; or, if they just think it would feel like how it normally does, except a whole lot better." She leaned in and tenderly kissed his tip.

He tensed, curling his toes as the shock of pleasure throbbed down his shaft, over his balls, down to his soles; as well as up his tummy, over his heart, and into the nape of his neck. "Don't worry," she replied, "You'll get more accustomed to it. I hear a clitoral-glans blows your mind when its wedged into that orgasm-squeezing cervix you're no doubt to get familiar with." She sighed, almost with a hint of recollection. "But for now, this is all I'm allowed to do..."

His eyes rolled up into the back of his head as she swallowed him without warning. He let out a moan, his hands reaching to rest on her scalp. Her lips pressed to his pelvis, at first forcing his legs to accommodate her intrusion. But he obliged her whatever room she could need, gasping as she began to suckle on him.

It felt nothing like it ever had before. Sure, he had gotten a blow-job every now and again from a girl he half-liked for a while. But that was when he was much older, and his penis was... mundane--and she wasn't experienced in the least.

But Doctor Mindleby was living up to her degree. It was like she knew, inherently, every spot on his shaft that sent pleasure crashing through his pelvis. She even knew how to cater to his alterations, giving him a kind of gratification he never knew he could have. From the way she forced his barbs down with her hard palate, to the way her lips gently constricted behind the rib before passing over it, to the way the back of her throat excited the clitoral tissue on the tip of his glans as she pressed her lips to his pelvis and vocalized a deep moan or hum.

As the moments went on, his knot began to swell, and the clitoral-glans stimulation was left wanting. Still, he was given a treatment the likes of which his fantasies could barely fathom. Amidst his heavy breaths and rapid course to climax, he opened his eyes to see her pleasantly bobbing away, her cheeks blushing with arousal. She must have somehow felt his eyes on her, for she opened hers and looked up at his.

He watched as she went as deep as she could go on his knot, and hold him in her throat for several seconds, all while locked with his gaze. She then lifted up, applying the pressure to his rib, and then finally raising until her lips were wrapped about his tip. He huffed, his limbs tingling and his heart racing, practically delirious with pleasure.

And then she firmly pressed her finger to his perineum, and rapidly suckled his tip like a baby's bottle.

He careened into orgasm.

The pressure that erupted from the tip of his penis caught her by surprise, just a little. She knew what to expect, but the anticipation counteracted her expectations. She lifted free, and gripped his girth to brace him as he erupted--and erupt he did.

A copious amount of semen gushed from his urethra. Rather than spurting ropes, or dribbling beads, semen burst from his penis like the water from a geyser. Constant, continuous, and ample; the stream of semen would have launched several feet into the air, had it not been directed to splatter all over her face, chest, tummy, and down to her lower regions.

For fifteen full seconds she was doused in his thick, musky jism, before he finally went down to a trickle. Even then, when it slowly made a trail back toward him over her knees and his own thighs, and after it appeared to halt altogether; a final, vivacious spurt shot forth onto her lap.

She took in a deep breath, and collapsed onto her back. She moaned, her body convulsing with pleasure as the semen that coated her made her senses run wild with lust and desire. A mild, mini-orgasm came over her, as she rubbed the slippery, sweet seed into her fur.

But she collected herself soon after, for she had some verifications to finish. She took her place at his side, and gently stirred him by stroking his cheek.

"Nnngh," he wearily grumbled, opening his eyes. The odor of semen pervaded his nostrils, and he looked toward Dr. Mindleby. He gasped, witnessing a glob of his ejaculate drip from her chin and whiskers as she smiled down at him. "I--I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to--"

She shook her hand and closed his mouth by pushing up on his chin. "Variable sensitivity, so you don't blow your load right off the bat," she listed; "prolonged orgasm, streaming ejaculation, high-pressure ejaculation, high-volume ejaculation, and," she inserted her coated index finger into her mouth, pulling it out with a pop. "Chocolate-flavored, Light Her Fire seminal formula," she swept her lips with her tongue, tasting the flavor and feeling the gentle, stimulating tingle and heat within her mouth, as well as all over her body. "Along with heating, vibration, reduced refractory period, rapid seminal production, and controlled blood-cycling for sustainable erection; I'd almost guess you're trying to impress a certain somebody who rejected you or something." She knuckled his chest. "You better be careful. With all those 'bells and whistles,' as they put it, some girls'll wanna bear down on you non-stop all day." She leaned in and licked his muzzle. "Unless... that's what you're going for, cutie."

She sat back up with a sigh, and then gasped. "Oh! Before it calms down," she quickly made her way back to his penis. He slumped back as she gripped the girth of his knot similar to before. The blue line showed vibrantly against the deep-red of his post-orgasmic phallus, and the number popped into view. "Six-and-a-half inches," she noted, and then shook her head with a tsk. "It's why I always recommend girls opt for selective vaginal elasticity if they want to avoid discomfort." She muttered, as if talking to someone else overhearing. "Boys like him want 'em tight, but otherwise how do they expect to cram that beast in?"

Tello groaned, rousing awake. He opened his eyes, and saw Dr. Mindleby gazing down at him. Within a few seconds, he came to understand his head was resting on her knees. He sat up, and turned over to hands-and-knees before kneeling to face her. She smiled at him, the slip that had covered his still-turgid shaft earlier serving as a cover to keep his own semen from getting on him.

"How long... was I asleep?" He asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Just a minute or two," she said. "If the reduced refractory period is working, you should be ready for another round. Do you feel up to it?"

He looked at her, his cheeks blushing. "Um... Y--Yeah," he admitted.

She sighed, clearly with what was dismay. "Unfortunately, I can't," she gestured to herself by resting her fingers upon her bare, semen-saturated bosom. "I'm only allowed to perform oral stimulation for the purposes of evaluating the alterations you've specified. Which, by the way, are you satisfied with the alterations?"

He nodded. "Yeah--the clitoral glans was... Well, I picked it, didn't I?"

She giggled. "Like I said, you'll get used to it. Besides, you have the ability to toggle all of your modifications independently. You also have the ability to automatically allow or deny others to toggle your modifications." She folded her arms, "Believe it or not, some girls don't like the barbs or the knot. But, if you absolutely want to have the experience, you can deny others' ability to toggle, but that will narrow your compatibility matrix, depending on how inflexible you are."

She then clapped, droplets of semen spattering off with the gesture. "But enough about that. Congratulations, Tello! Your BiG Synth is officially concluded. You're back to being eight years old--more or less," she amended with a wink.

They got to their feet, and Tello felt compelled to shake her hand. "Thank you," he said, as if a gigantic weight had been sloughed from his shoulders.

She reached for his chin, and stepped in, half-purposefully sandwiching his erection against his stomach and her pubic mound. "It's our pleasure to enhance your pleasure," she replied, and pressed her lips to his.

The kiss caught him off-guard, but he welcomed it eagerly, despite tasting just a hint of his own spunk, which was the real reason he opted to flavor it something he liked. She was so genuine, that it actually surprised him when he heard the chime of data-transfer confirmation, deep within his skull. A strand of saliva broke between them as she broke the kiss.

"I've given you a residential access token." She clarified. "You now have full access to all of the ameneties we offer our residents: services, products, dormitory, supplies, and more." She took his hand, and began to guide him to the exit of the room in which he had been held for over a week in suspension.

"You also have access to the database of other residents. Though, a bit of advice," she paused at the gateway. "Try to resist the temptation to just rifle through it picking and choosing the ideal people you want to stalk and fuck. We have a proven study, that is validated again with each newcomer, that indicates residents have a higher degree of satisfaction and enjoyment of our community if they let encounters happen organically. After all, we're all here for the same reasons, and to satisfy the same desires--it's actually counter-intuitive on an unconscious level to try and optimize that goal."

He nodded. "I'll take that to heart," he replied, sincerely.

"Now then, just follow me through the rift." She touched her finger to one of the glowing buttons on the free-standing, tree-themed column a few feet from a stone wall, and the pale pink rectangle that resembled a doorway began to ripple. Quickly, the pink dissolved into a sludge of what appeared to be liquid metal. The glossy, undulating section of wall became volatile for several seconds, and then settled to a gelatinous rippling.

The first quantum rifts were met with fear and abhorrence. Theories of being compressed into a singularity, or winding up in a different time or parallel universe, or just outright dying in general, were the initial reactions to their first implementation.

But now, they were ubiquitous. In actuality, the room that they occupied was also occupied by others; just on different quantum planes. It was very convenient for solving a multitude of problems. Some of which, like having one room be an infinite number of rooms, were admittedly solving for the minor inconvenience of taking up more space than desired; but quantum rifts had rendered things such as cars, airplanes, and boats, into obsolescence eons ago.

Common as they were, the feeling of passing through one was always a bit perturbing. It only happened for an immeasurable instant in time, but in that instant one was just a mere possibility, pensively waiting to be observed.

As they arrived into the reception hall of the medical center, a pair of doctors were waiting. One was an excessively tall adult feline that towered over Tello's height, which was just about two feet. The other was a female moose that appeared to be younger than he was, and quite stocky for her age.

"Hi, Melody," the male spoke, kneeling down. "Don't you look so pretty?" He addressed her with a paternal-sounding voice.

"Tsh," the moose scowled. "How come you always get the ones that cum buckets?"

"Now, Heather" the feline admonished. "You're still in training. Once you learn how to properly initiate a visitor into the community, you'll be covered in more cum than you'll know what to do with." He winked.

"Are you guys going to wake Lydia?" Melody Mindleby questioned her two colleagues.

"Yes indeed," the male stood. "Come along, Heather."

"Yes Dr. Crown." She turned to the fox-boy. "Bye," she chimed, waving her fingers to him flirtatiously. She looked at Melody. "Bye," she replied curtly, and stepped through the rift.

Dr. Mindleby sighed. "I wish she wouldn't get so jealous," she commented to no one in particular. "C'mon," she beckoned, leading her patient down the hall.

When they reached the receptionist's desk, the little six-year-old rabbit at the computer looked up and gasped. "Melody!" She exclaimed, and dashed toward a door.

Tello listened as her footfalls could be heard, along with a dull thump and an expletive, before the door beside him opened up. The rabbit dashed out, fully nude, and embraced Dr. Mindleby.

"Melody you look absolutely delicious!" She squealed, and leaned in to run her tongue along the mink's nipple and collect a large sample of the semen. "Oh, chocolate! My favorite--and it's still warm." She moaned, and latched onto her colleague's nipple.

"Delila," the mink chuckled, petting the suckling rabbit's head.

With a gasp, Delila released the nipple, now pert. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't resist." She said with a blush, and looked toward the kit. "Is this the boy that got you all creamy?"

"Mmhmm," Dr. Mindleby said, retrieving a clipboard and a pen to begin dismissing him. "Tello, meet Delila. She's our weekday-morning receptionist, and for better-or-worse she's always horny."

"Melly!" The rabbit said with embarrassment. "I can't help resisting sampling spooge--especially not when you waltz on in here covered in it." She turned to the fox-boy. "Hello, Tello." She giggled. "That rhymed!"

He chuckled back. "Y--Yeah."

"Aww, quiet one, huh? Don't you worry," she went about adjusting a ruffle in his coat here, picking out a piece of congealed suspension-gel there. "Some girls just gush over the quiet type--if ya know what I mean." She winked. "You'll be balls-deep and pumpin' 'em fulla batter in no time," she declared, gently bumping his chest with her petite fist. "Especially with a tool like that."

He gazed down, his erection still prominent.

"Okay, Delly-Dell. Now that you've inflated his ego full of hornium, it's time to see him off."

"Oh, can I go with?"

"Sure," Dr. Mindleby acquiesced.

Tello was taken by Delila's hand as they walked toward the entrance--which was an actual door that led to an actual outside. He did notice, however, that his hand was deliberately placed upon the little rabbit's immature, chubby breast. He obliged her a grope.

She gave him a giggle.

They passed the first set of doors into the foyer.

"All right, Tello. From here on out, you're only limitation to fulfilling your wildest fantasies," she rested her hand on his shoulder, "is your own reluctance." The mink smiled, her hand receding. "By the way, if you'd like, I'm allowed to fuck you after seventy-two hours." She tilted her head side-to-side. "Y'know. Just sayin'."

"Oh, you better, honey!" Delila stated, wagging a finger at him. "Melly's one of the best--be polite and thank her, hear?"

"Um... S--Sure," he replied with a meek blush. Besides... It wasn't like he was against the idea.

Dr. Mindleby nodded, and gestured toward the automatic doors, tinted to keep the sun from blazing their eyes. Though, it was partly cloudy and hidden at the moment.

"Allow me to formally welcome you as a resident of The Starlight Bunny Haven."

He waited a few seconds, gathering himself with a collective breath. Penis proudly erect, with butterflies swarming behind, nerves both excited and anxious; he stepped forward, and felt the breeze of fresh air as he passed over the threshold.