Week 3 Part 1

Chris’ alarm sounded. It was 6:15, time to get up! He slid out of bed and held onto the wall as his morning vertigo and dry mouth took its toll. He started to suspect dehydration was the issue, as a healthy dose of pink water always seemed to do the trick. He drank his water, then meticulously made his bed (just how Sylvie taught him) before entering the bathroom and beginning his morning routine. He brushed his teeth, combed his ear-length hair, removed his sleep mask, shaved his nearly nonexistent stubble, cleansed and moisturized his face, and touched up his nail polish. He examined his face and was amazed to find that the signs of age he was worried about were already beginning to disappear. His skin looked younger, suppler, and healthier.

Satisfied and feeling good, Chris returned to his bedroom and located the smallest workout shorts and tightest compression shirt he owned. Despite that, they were still quite baggy on his frame, and Chris found himself tying the strings in his waistband as tight as they would go. He poked at his taut belly and grimaced. His changes must have been close to being complete!

He grabbed his cellphone and water bottle and made his way down the stairs. He spent a few minutes picking around the house and tidying small things here and there. He really was feeling embarrassed by the cleanliness of his home after Sylvie pointed it out. The least he could do was make it look better for her by their next meeting.

At 7:00 exactly, a knock echoed from the front door. The growl in Chris’ stomach let him know food was on the doorstep, and the flutter of fear in his chest reminded him who was delivering it. He pulled open the door and welcomed Miss Valentine. 

She entered and spoke brusquely, “Good morning, Mr. Evans.” She procured a garment from her bag and launched it towards Chris while ordering, “Put this on.”

Chris examined the piece of clothing. It was a blue apron. But this wasn’t like Sylvie’s simple, blue apron; this one was more feminine.

Chris opened his mouth to protest but stopped. He shrank beneath Miss Valentine’s emotionless stare and feared her wrath.

When he was clearly hesitating, Miss Valentine shouted, her voice echoed in the foyer, “NOW!”

Chris flipped the apron over his head and quickly tied it around his waist. His mind raced. Why was Miss Valentine punishing him for something that happened with Sylvie? Was she somehow watching them? Was Sylvie in on it? No, no, it had to be Miss Valentine watching them. Sylvie wouldn’t betray him or get bent out of shape about something stupid like refusing to wear an apron!

Without another word, Miss Valentine walked to the kitchen. Chris followed behind with his new garment wrapped tightly around his diminished frame. He ate his paltry breakfast and downed his morning pills without any conversation.

When he was finished eating, Miss Valentine motioned to him for the apron. Relieved, Chris removed it and handed it back to her. He was worried she was going to make him wear it all day! Wearing it for breakfast only wasn’t much of a punishment, but Chris saw it for what it was: a warning. She snatched the apron and stuffed it into her bag.

She tossed the bag to the side of the kitchen and jogged towards the front door. Chris followed behind and gasped when he realized she was leading him outside!

Chris stopped and pleaded, “Wait, wait, wait! I can’t go outside looking like this!”

Miss Valentine turned around, clearly annoyed. Her voice was flat. “Like what, Mr. Evans?”

He pointed to himself and yelled in panic, “Like—like a skinny sissy! And—and—I can’t go out wearing nail polish!”

She sighed, “The training regiment says today is an outdoor run, so I don’t know what to tell you. It’ll be fine. It’s a beautiful day.”

Chris thought fast and blurted out, “If somebody recognizes me, they’ll know about my diet and start asking questions. Think about it. It could jeopardize the secrecy of the production!”

Miss Valentine seemed to contemplate his words. After some thought, she walked to the kitchen and rifled through her bag.

When she returned, she tossed something towards Chris, “Here, this will solve the problem. Nobody will know who you are.”

He was holding a pink face mask lined with rhinestones.

Chris shook his head. “No way, this is too embarrassing!”

Miss Valentine groaned aggressively into the ceiling, causing Chris’ heart to skip a beat. She hissed at him, “I don’t have time for your drama, Mr. Evans. You can either have a nice, slow jog outside and get some fresh air, or I can burn the shit out of you in the basement, and you’ll go to bed hungry. Your choice.”

Chris examined the shimmering mask in his hand and sighed. He asked incredulously, “Does it come in something a little more masculine?”

She tapped her foot and put her hands on her hips. She was clearly done with his questions and spoke curtly, “Take it or leave it, Mr. Evans. Decide.”

He really wanted to go outside and much preferred a slow jog to...whatever horrible torture Miss Valentine could cook up. With his mind made up and a resigned sigh, Chris bowed his head and secured the pink rhinestone mask over his mouth and around his ears. Inside the mask, he could smell Miss Valentine’s subtly sweet odor mixed with makeup.

With that, she turned and opened the front door. Sunlight burst through like a spotlight, and Chris squinted and held his arm up to block it. It was blinding! Not just bright, but painfully blinding. Like knock-him-on-his-ass, painfully blinding.

Miss Valentine noticed Chris’ struggle and brushed past him towards the kitchen while explaining, “Sorry, Mr. Evans, I almost forgot. A side effect of your medication is UV light sensitivity. I thought your body had adjusted to it by now, but I was wrong.” She dug through her bag and returned with a pair of sunglasses, which she placed in Chris’ hand while continuing to speak, “Here, these glasses have special UV protection; you should feel a lot better with those on.”

Chris turned away from the front door and held up the glasses to examine them. They were very feminine!

He couldn’t wear these! Combined with the rhinestone mask, he would look ridiculous! He tried to remember where his own sunglasses were in the house. He could start by checking all the kitchen cabinets; surely they would turn up. His thoughts then shifted to his newly discovered UV sensitivity. He hadn’t noticed it until just now, but he HAD been periodically closing more and more blinds without really thinking about it. His house was relatively dark, and now he knew why. He wondered if some of his dizziness could be attributed to this sensitivity.

Miss Valentine jogged to the threshold and issued an order, breaking Chris from his contemplation, “Enough stalling, let’s go!”

Chris felt suddenly anxious as Miss Valentine began jogging down the driveway. He knew if he didn’t move in the next few seconds, all hell was going to break loose! He didn’t have time to search, so he slipped the girly sunglasses on and stumbled after her, thankful that they seemed to do the trick. He was fully committing to the hope that nobody would recognize him. Though with his diminished musculature, longer hair, and covered face, he was cautiously confident that there would be no issues.

Having been cooped up inside for two straight weeks, the outside world seemed expansive and vibrant to Chris. He kept pace behind Miss Valentine, but his paranoid eyes watched out for people he knew. He passed several strangers on the jog, but they generally paid him very little mind. He did garner a few strange looks for his out-of-place mask and sunglasses, which didn’t match his thin but still masculine body. It was clear, however, that even the confused onlookers didn’t recognize him. After a few dozen encounters with no repercussions, Chris relaxed and began enjoying the fresh air (filtered through the scented mask) and sunshine (filtered through the tinted sunglasses). Chris hoped they would pass by a store where he could buy himself a different mask or different sunglasses, but that hope was dashed when it became clear they were just doing laps around the residential neighborhood. The full lap was just over a mile, and they made the journey half a dozen times at a moderate pace.

At the conclusion of the sixth lap, Miss Valentine stopped at Chris’ mansion and jogged up the driveway. Chris followed closely behind, sweating lightly but thoroughly enjoying himself. She told him to wait and entered the house, returning shortly after with a large water bottle filled with pink liquid. Chris pulled down the mask and chugged the water, not realizing how thirsty he was until he started drinking. The sweet water really hit the spot, and he felt energized and happy!

After a short water break, they began jogging around the neighborhood once again. This time, the pace was much more intense, and Chris’ heart rate was rapidly increasing. He breathed heavily into the mask and fought to stay directly behind Miss Valentine. They rounded the corner and flew past Chris’ mansion for another high-speed lap. Chris’ lungs were burning, his legs were buckling with fatigue, but he pressed on, determined not to lose her. Before the last few weeks of training, there was no way Chris could have pulled this off, but now, he was a cardio machine! They rounded the corner again, and Miss Valentine broke into a flat-out sprint up the driveway. Chris stayed on her like a shadow until she stopped near the door.

She turned to Chris, huffing and puffing, with a toothy smile. It was the first real, genuine smile Chris could remember seeing from her. It reminded him of Sylvie. He returned her smile, and they shared a moment where only their labored breathing broke the silence.

“Not *huff* bad, Mr. Evans.” Miss Valentine gasped.

Chris nodded towards her respectfully and followed her inside once they’d relaxed and stretched for a few minutes on the driveway. She insisted he keep the mask and sunglasses as a memento even though Chris had no intention of wearing them again.

When he entered the foyer, Chris pulled off his mask and sunglasses. He caught a faint whiff of something. It was almost like an old woman’s perfume. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it seemed very out of place in his home. He peered around and located the source of the smell, which appeared to be a white rectangle strategically placed on a nearby wall.

As he watched, the rectangle made a very light whooshing sound, and a spritz of liquid shot into the open air like a cloud. He took a hearty sniff and nodded his head, having solved the mystery. The concentrated blast from the air freshener entered his lungs, and Chris coughed deeply. He cleared his throat as it felt like the liquid had somehow coated the back of his mouth.

He started to ask Miss Valentine a question, “Where did this-” but he stopped when his voice came out in a higher register as if he were going through puberty. He cleared his throat and asked the question again, relieved when his normal voice came out, “Where did this air freshener come from?”

She wiped her sweaty brow and sucked on a water bottle before answering, “I had them installed in a couple of rooms while we were working out. Honestly, Mr. Evans, this place smelled really bad.”

Her comment hit Chris hard as it echoed what Sylvie had told him on the previous day. It flustered him so much that he didn’t even get angry about the intrusion of his home.

Chris began making his way up the stairs, ready to complete his usual ritual of showering. As he negotiated the stairs, however, he was surprised to see Miss Valentine following behind.

She pulled at her sports bra nonchalantly and removed the garment completely, baring her naked chest to Chris’ eyes. He nearly tripped and fell down the staircase, craning his neck behind him like his life depended on it.

She noticed him staring and asked innocently, “You don’t mind if I join you, do you? I normally don’t get this sweaty while I’m here.”

Chris gulped and nodded. He entered his immaculate bedroom and heard the soft *whoosh* of an air freshener. His brain hardly registered the air freshener as the majority of his blood was rushing somewhere else. He pulled off his sweaty clothes and tossed them onto the floor excitedly while Miss Valentine crossed the floor with her tiny breasts bouncing lightly. She peeled off her shorts and socks, leaving her butt naked in the bedroom. She removed her ponytail and let her loose hair hang down her back. Chris licked his lips and began slowly fondling his shaft, waiting for her to be ready. His eyes fixated on her musky, hairless, little snatch, and he anticipated the feeling of burying his cock deep inside.

His manhood felt extremely sensitive, and he glanced down to make sure it was okay. He noticed that it looked and felt a little smaller than normal. His horny brain rationalized that he was just seeing things. It only seemed that way because he hadn’t cumed in weeks! It definitely explained his sensitivity!

Miss Valentine faced him and gave a come-hither look alongside a beckoning hand gesture. Not needing any further invitation, Chris surged forward and let out a yelp as she suddenly redirected his momentum and shoved him towards the bed. He fell onto his back near the corner of the bed and chuckled. He was enjoying her little display of sexual aggression. She must have wanted to ride him so badly!

Before he could situate himself, Miss Valentine charged towards him and hopped on top of his stomach. He groaned at the momentary crushing strain on his body but allowed her to continue with no complaints. Her sweaty, muscular body slid up his torso until Chris was face to face with her hairless pussy. She suddenly jumped forward and dropped her legs on either side of Chris’ head, using her body weight to bury her vagina into his mouth. Chris’ tongue slipped into her slit while the rest of his face was crushed with hot, sweaty flesh. She let out a soft moan and bucked her hips while grinding her clit against his tongue. He struggled to breathe and held on for dear life as Miss Valentine used him like a human Sybian. He tried to pull his head away, but she gripped him by his hair and forced him into her crotch even harder.

Her bucking hips sped up until she let out a much wilder moan into the ceiling. Her thighs began to quake on either side of Chris’ head, and her pussy quivered and gushed warm fluid all over his face. After a few seconds of pleasured groans and shaking legs, Miss Valentine relaxed and slowly pushed herself back to her feet, leaving Chris gasping for air. His face shined with vaginal fluid, and his gasping breaths invited some of her juices into his mouth.

She slowly waltzed her way to the bathroom, still visibly riding an orgasmic high. Chris wiped his mouth and complained, “Hey! How about a little help here? My turn?”

She turned and fluttered her eyes at him before scoffing, “Um, no. I don’t do that sort of thing. Finish yourself off if you must. I’m taking a shower.”

Chris winced at his diminished, sensitive hard-on that hadn’t gone down one iota, even though he'd nearly choked to death. He had two weeks of pent-up sexual frustration to unleash! He furiously began masturbating. His head swam with the image of Miss Valentine’s muscled body dominating over him. He licked his sticky, shiny lips and relished in the perverse taste of her pussy. She’d used him like a toy, like a sex doll! He was nothing more than that to her! His hand tightened on his dick, and his hips thrust forward. His climax was nearing! The image of her hot sex closing in on his mouth filled his brain...but then something strange happened... Just as he crested his orgasm, the image of Miss Valentine’s vagina morphed into something much more phallic. Instead of wet, puffy lips sliding against his tongue—for just a brief second—there was, instead, a rock-hard, throbbing erection sliding between his lips. The fantasy sent him over the edge, and a torrent of sperm erupted from Chris’ dick. It was like an uncontrollable fire hose after weeks of buildup, and it shot all over his nearly hairless, thin chest.

He rode the pleasure of his orgasm for a few seconds and unconsciously rubbed his painted fingers across his sperm-coated torso. He snapped back to reality and caught his breath before climbing to his feet. Rivulets of semen dripped down his chest and fingers while his shiny face stank of aroused pussy. He tottered to the shower and joined Miss Valentine. She regarded him with little enthusiasm. The shower was disappointingly uneventful. Chris washed Miss Valentine, and she neglected to return the favor. He tried to initiate further sexual contact by touching between her legs, but she pushed his hand away and gave him the cold shoulder. What did this woman want from him!?

When they were finished and dressed once again, Chris drank down his afternoon shake (vanilla and salt flavored, yuck!) before settling in front of the television for his afternoon research on yet another show that Chris had only ever heard of.

He wore his flower headphones and noticed another of Miss Valentine’s air fresheners in the living room. The periodic puff from the little rectangle wasn’t unpleasant, though Chris kept feeling that same ‘coated’ feeling in the back of his mouth. He found himself clearing his throat and coughing more often but was willing to sacrifice if it meant his home didn’t continue to stink and embarrass him. Due to the symptoms from the air freshener, it took Chris an extra hour to fall asleep, but he eventually did drift off for his usual power nap. He dreamed of darkness and the quiet voice of a woman. She was repeating the same thing over and over again. With each repetition, her volume got louder and louder. It was a phrase that Chris couldn't quite make out. He felt powerless to stop her, and her sound soon overwhelmed him.

Chris awoke in darkness and sweat, as normal. He immediately reached for his water bottle and took a deep gulp of sweet water to address his dry mouth. It calmed him and made him feel right-as-rain. Miss Valentine turned the television off and closed her laptop. Chris' dream faded quickly from his memory, and the woman's voice was absorbed back into his brain. He stood slowly to combat his dizziness and recalled multiple hours of ‘The Bachelorette’ he had (somehow unconsciously) just consumed. He slumped to the kitchen, feeling especially sleepy. He wondered why he was so tired after having napped for several hours. He noticed another air freshener puffing away in the kitchen. It made sense; there were lots of bad smells in the kitchen.

Chris ate his dinner.

And his pills.

He ate in silence beneath the bored but watchful stare of Miss Valentine. When he was finished, they wished each other a professional ‘good night,’ and she left. Chris was a little disappointed that Miss Valentine didn’t say anything to acknowledge their first sexual encounter. She was acting like it never happened!

Chris let her attitude slide off his shoulders for now, but he vowed to take control the next time they had sex and get a blowjob of his own! He ascended the stairs and completed his nighttime bathroom routine (including his skin care). He crawled into bed just as a quiet whoosh puffed more liquid into the air. Chris let out a soft cough and opened his pink cell phone. His painted index finger tapped a new game he had downloaded (from the same creators as ‘The Princess Ball’) called ‘The Prince Ball.’ The game concept was similar, except the mini-games were more action-oriented and featured dressing up a handsome prince. Chris much preferred the mini-games in ‘The Prince Ball’ because they were less puzzle-oriented. Some of the puzzles in ‘The Princess Ball’ were a little too tricky for his sleepy brain! As he played, Chris’ mind buzzed and his eyes glazed over while he breathed in the air freshener’s fumes, gulped down pink water, and focused on the manly body of the cartoon prince. He passed out after a few hours.