3 months later...
John laid back on the bed, his breasts jiggling, and he trembled in terror at what would come next. He was not blindfolded, but he’d been ordered not to remove the fabric strip that had been placed over his eyes.
The wealthy man named Patrice stood over him like a predator poised to strike. He wore his black Armani suit, and it fit his tall, muscled frame like a uniform. “I was surprised your mother was willing to sell her most popular and most beautiful piece of art. Do you know what I paid for you? You may answer.”
John swallowed hard. “Y-yes,” he breathed. “Fifty dollars.”
Patrice climbed onto the bed and sat over him, pulling off the fabric covering his eyes. “Correct. You’re worth much more than that, of course. Much more. But, of course, there were conditions.” He reached down and gently caressed the smooth skin of John’s face. “I must use you in the most depraved and debauched way possible. A way that would befit the piece of art you are.”
John’s mouth fell open, but no sound came out.
“I am not interested in causing you pain,” Patrice whispered, “but I am most certainly interested in seeing how much feminine pleasure your mind can endure before you are broken. Before you admit, you prefer your new place in this world over your old one.”
John turned his face into the pillow. “Please, don’t—”
Patrice gently ran a finger across John’s lips. “Now, now, there’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re built for this. Your mother said you are a virgin. Is that true?”
“No,” John said. “I mean, I wasn’t before the…change. But I’ve never…been with a man.”
“What about toys? Anything?” John shook his head, and Patrice grinned. “Well, then, this will be an interesting experiment.” He pulled off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a well-muscled chest. “We’ll start easy with my finger.”
Patrice slid his finger down John’s soft belly and then between his legs. John gasped and jerked in surprise.
Patrice chuckled and gently slid his finger up, then down again. “Do you like that?”
John felt a strange tingle in the place where Patrice’s finger moved. “I…don’t know.”
“No? I’ve read up on the surgery you had. This little button is what’s left of your manhood. All the nerves were surgically repositioned.” Patrice gently ran his finger across the sensitive flesh. “Yes, I can see you do like that.” He reached down and unzipped his pants. “Well, then, time to move on to the next level. Let’s see if Jankovic has lived up to his reputation.”