My name is Isaac. You won't hear about my story on the Internet or cable news. Nobody cares if a young guy from West Virginia goes missing. They'll say, "Another casualty of the opioid epidemic!"
But it ain't true. I never touched drugs. At least, not until my captors hooked me up to that IV and flooded my bloodstream with what they laughingly called "girl juice." Later, I found out it was an insidious mixture of estrogen, progesterone, testosterone blockers, and oxycodone. After the first couple of doses, my masculinity was a goner. Even if I'd known what the drugs would do to me in the long run, I wouldn't have been able to stop. They just felt too damn good, like a long, slow, luxurious orgasm.
My captors were part of an organization who called themselves the Clockwork Angles. I have no idea what that name means, but I suppose it doesn't matter. They worked for a cult of sick, wealthy men who paid handsomely to have their fantasies come true. Some of them got off on turning women into men. Others wanted successful, powerful women to become obedient, submissive little bimbos. The one who commissioned my transformation wanted a young man to be feminized and forced to undergo a sex change operation.
I still remember the day when the Clockwork Angels busted into my trailer, beat me unconscious, and tossed me into their van. I woke up in a tiny room, strapped to a chair. A masked woman with a deep, husky voice, who I later learned was named Deborah, gave me an injection. The drugs made me feel woozy, but amazing. I was so relaxed and happy, so ready to do anything for this woman, that I didn't even think about the fact that she was a kidnapper, or that she was removing my testicles with a scalpel.
When I woke up, I screamed and cried, but nobody checked on me for a long time. Eventually, Deborah came into my little room, gave me another injection, and told me in a very sweet, soothing voice that I was to become a woman. "You'll like it," she said, stroking my hair. "You'll be so pretty."
Because of the addictive cocktail, I couldn't say no. Most of the time, I was too high to even realize what was happening. Vaguely, as if in a dream, I was aware that my muscles were softening, my ass filling out, my skin becoming softer and smoother. But, somehow, the changes just didn't seem that important. I was so relaxed and happy, so ready to do whatever Deborah and the other women told me to do.
I was told I was getting a sex change operation, and I said, "Oh, okay." That's how far gone I was. I didn't care what they did to my body as long as they kept me supplied with that magic cocktail.
Of course, after the operation, my captors cut me off. They said I was now a woman and didn't need any more of the drug. The withdrawal was horrible, like being in the worst nightmare you could imagine. My skin crawled, my bones ached, I was freezing cold. The other women just laughed at me, but Deborah was kind. "I know it hurts," she said. "But it will get better and you'll get used to it. I...I used to be just like you."
The withdrawal lasted for a week. The Clockwork Angels left me alone in my room, except for Deborah, who brought me water, soup, and bits of bread. A week, when the drugs finally wore off, Deborah removed the catheter. That's when I realized that I could no longer urinate standing up. I don't know why, but that's when the realization of what they'd done to me finally hit. I was a woman. They'd made me into a woman.
I'm not ashamed to say I cried for two days straight. I missed my cock. I missed my balls. I missed my hair. I missed everything that made me a man.
Now I'm waiting for the man who commissioned my transformation to come and collect me. I don't know who he is or what he wants, but I'm sure he'll be very pleased with the results. I know I would be, if I was a rich, sick bastard.
Deborah has tried to be kind. "You can still feel pleasure," she said. "You're healed enough now. Tonight, try touching yourself. I know, I know, it's weird to even think about it, but you will like it, I promise."
And so, with a shaking hand, I reached down between my legs and touched the soft, smooth skin of my pussy. And for the first time since they took the drugs away, I felt something. A tingling sensation. I pressed my fingers against my clit and rubbed the little knob of flesh that used to be my dick. My stomach clenched, my nipples hardened, and suddenly, I felt a rush of pleasure so intense that I almost fainted.
I'm still not sure if I'll ever get used to being a girl. I'm not sure if I'll ever forgive the Clockwork Angels for what they did to me. But I know that I'll do anything to feel that sensation again. Anything. Addiction is a powerful thing.