Always a Willing Volunteer - The Consequences
A medfet fantasy - not caring about the procedural authenticity
Follows on from the story links below
Always A willing Volunteer Pt 1
Always A Willing Volunteer Pt 2
Always A Willing Volunteer Final Pt
I became aware of sound firstly, as before, a rhythmic beeping slowly getting louder. As my mind came to, switch on if you will, I tried opening my eye. Blinking as focus returned, I tried to take in where I was.
I was sitting partially up in a bed, the room was dimly lit, with a window to one side, sunlight filtering around the blinds. A floor to ceiling glass panel made up one wall, looking to a corridor.
As my mind came to, the events that led to being here, started to flood back – the decision, the signing, the quick journey to theatre
“Oh my god, the program!”
I was quite sore, my chest, arms and belly all were uncomfortable. A mask was strapped tightly to my face, a black mask with a lovely rubber smell, I noted with a little glee. There was no tube in my mouth, and I felt a little sad at that. My hands were firmly restrained, as were my legs and I could feel catheters in place. I was mostly naked, I thought, though a sheet covered my lower half. I was warm enough though.
As my senses fully took in where I was, I pondered what had led to this.
“Can’t believe this is happening, was I mad?”
“But look at where I am, this is dream come true territory”
“But what was I thinking”
I could feel myself getting worked up, I was breathing faster and the beeping in the room was becoming more rapid. Maybe I wanted this, maybe I did not. I was equal parts scared and excited, and my brow was getting sweaty, a cold sweat.
After a couple of minutes someone entered the room. Wearing scrubs and a half fast respirator. “Nice look!” I thought
“Hello, good to see you’re awake. How are you feeling?” She came to the head of the bed, and touched a gloved hand onto my forehead, holding there for moments then reaching for a cloth and wiping my brow. Her hands gently touched the sore areas on my body, checking they felt like.
She reached behind me and fiddled with the monitor, the volume of the beeping dropped, as my heart rate dropped now I wasn’t alone.
“The initial parts of the process have been completed, and you’ve been fine, no observed complications. We’ve been observing you closely. I’m sure you’re wanting to talk to someone about all that’s happened, I’ll go and fetch the Director”
She asked about my pain level, performed a couple more checks, again touching the sore points on my body. She picked up a tablet from a slot on the wall behind me, and she tapped away for a little, then left the room.
A short time later, the Director came in. He was dressed in a suit, but put on gloves when he came in.
“Hello, its good to see you awake and alert. I trust you are comfortable” I nodded in reply.
He came to the head of the bed. “Let’s remove that mask so we can talk”. He loosened the straps and removed the mask. Fresh air on my face felt good.
“Let me tell you where we are, and feel free to ask anything you want”
“We have inducted you into the program successfully. Our first steps were to set you up for the stay, and the ground work steps for the process. Firstly, we have put in lines permanently to allow us to put fluids and medications into your system quickly. Secondly, we have put a feeding tube directly into your stomach. This provides a level of nutrition to support your body until we move on the digestive tract removal, and it allows us to keep you in a suitable state for rapid return to surgery, should that be necessary. It does however mean you have eaten your last meal, I hope it was a good one!”. I recoiled slightly at that, I wish I could have remembered what it was and I could not!
“Thirdly, we have implanted permanent monitoring sensors into your body, and these communicate like Bluetooth with the monitors and nurse’s station. Lastly, you will have noticed the urethral and anal catheters. These will remain in place until each part of the process is completed, and like eating, urinating and poohing on your own are now a thing of the past. The final step taken has been to start a process to re-program your immune system, so that your body will tolerate the changes to come and not reject them”
“Wow, this all feels extremely real” I exclaimed, my voice cracking. I was feeling lost for words to react
Never in my wildest dreams had I thought such treatment and control could happen. I felt myself shaking slightly and feeling quite excited. I was fascinated, and horrified, by what had been done, and the way my body was being managed and changed. Truly it felt like heaven and hell at the same time.
“Do you have any questions?”
My mind was a blank, a blur too, but no questions sprung to mind.
“Please continue” I said, my voice shaky from the emotion coursing through me.
“So, I want to talk to you about why you were chosen, and how that helps us. Medical fetishism, we fervently hope that will give us the best chance of a successful outcome with the process. For it to work, we need the subject’s body and mind willing to accept and work with the change. To help that, we’ve made some adjustments to our methodology to make it attractive to your medfet side – unlike the military trials, you’ll be kept awake as much as possible, in the military they were sedated a lot of the time; all processes will be kept slow, deliberate and explained in detail; staff will wear more overt, over the top, protective equipment – all designed to engage your medfet side and have your mind in a restful and accepting place” He sat back, the same smug smile, so pleased with himself, as I’d seen when I first met him.
I looked at him, in fact I stared. I was plainly being manipulated, and in quite a base way, yet I’d signed up and couldn’t back out, so I would just have to lean into it and enjoy it as best I can.
“Erm, OK”, I stuttered “I did wonder why the nurse had a mask on and was touching me so much”
“I know you feel manipulated, and frankly you are being, but for the best of reasons: a successful outcome for you will be hugely beneficial too”
“Now, let’s talk about what is to come next. In a couple of days, once we’ve verified your immune system responses are suitable, we’ll start the surgical cycle with a radical cystectomy and Urostomy. This is where we remove your bladder, most of your urethra, prostrate, and route the urine output from your kidneys temporarily into an external bag”
I swallowed hard. This was real, and radical didn’t seem enough of a word!
He continued, without registering my reaction.
“Once you have recovered sufficiently, we will do a radical penectomy and orchidectomy, removing your external genetalia and the rest of your urethra and sealing up the surface smoothly”
At this I gasped and shivered. I remembered being told about it when the process was first explained, but in the cold light of day it felt enormous, too much to comprehend.
This time he noticed my reaction, and leaned in, a hand stretched towards me on the bed. “Are you ok? Am I going to fast?”
“n..no, its fine” I stuttered, lying through my teeth
“I’m not unsympathetic to how you feel, but we laid out that all this would happen, I know it feels radical when its all described but to benefit from the process all of this is necessary. Just imagine the surgery preparation and recovery time on the ICU, your medfet side will love it”
He sat back again. “Once recovery is complete, we’ll move onto transitioning you to a fully non-food nutrition regime, and then removal of the kidneys and implant with the device can be done”
I just stared, I didn’t know how to react. My decision of a few, what, days or hours before felt like a lifetime ago, and now actual fear had replaced the heady buzz of the decision, the radical surgery feeling much too far to go to experience all my medfet desired.
But I had no way out. None.
A nurse came hurrying in.
“I’m sorry to disturb, Director, but patient’s vitals are looking quite unsteady. I wanted to check everything was alright”
“Yes, its all fine”, he said dismissively “I have just been laying out the next steps of the program, and he has not reacted in the way we expected”
He stood up and came towards the bed.
“Maybe a period of reflection under anaesthesia will help” and he reached for the mask.
“No!” I said strongly as he pushed the mask into my face. I tried to shake my head out from under it. The nurse came to the other side and steadied my head, as the Director completed strapping it on.
He reached behind me and I soon smelled gas, strong and insistent. I tried to hold my breath, and the machine detected this and began to force it in. I fought but the machine was stronger, the gas that was coming in weakening me, and eventually I relented and let it take control.
“That’s it, let the gas take you and enjoy it. Your sort love it!” said the Director, sarcastically. “We’ll talk again soon, before the surgery, good bye”
As he turned to leave the blackness of unconsciousness took hold and I fell into its open arms, powerless.
