Chapter 5

"Full fathom five thy father lies,

Into something rich and strange."

-William Shakespeare, The Tempest

As she recovered her balance from Miss Rhea's rude shove inside, Amy cast a slightly bewildered gaze around the Nurses' Office. During orientation, Lady Akiko had discussed it only in vague generalities. Among the students it was the subject of various lurid and mutually contradictory rumors, which agreed only in that the Nurses' Office was not a good place to be sent. As far as Amy could see, there didn't seem to be much to confirm that impression. Soft yellow light bathed the wide rectangular atrium, decorated with potted plants, cheery art, and, in one case, cheery art of potted plants. A line of numbered wooden doors stretched from the far left across most of the back wall. In the right corner there was a modest but immaculately polished desk, behind which an apparently unoccupied secretary greeted Amy with a cheery smile.

"Hi, I'm Melanie. Nice to meet ya! You're Amy, right? Someone should be with you really soon."

Melanie's sunny disposition and bimbo essence reminded Amy of the barely dressed attendants on the bus into the Academy, who trolled the aisleway seeking to sell a highly suspicious violet-colored fruity drink. By the end of the eight-hour ride, she remembered, she was perhaps the only one who hadn't knocked back several glasses of the stuff; the girls' enthusiasm, their attractiveness (for those interested), and the deprivation of the long train ride were a difficult-to-resist combination. Amy wondered whether this lightly tanned blonde, wearing a low-cut blue sun-dress that nonchalantly showed off her huge assets, was being used to sell something else. If so, it would no doubt work better than it had on the bus. Two days ago she was indifferent to the girls' charms, and had merely pitied them for being used when she had looked out the window and seen two of them tag-teaming an enthralled black-haired girl, shoving their huge breasts in the girl's face and caressing her legs as they fed her the drink. After so much exposure to the anomaly, though, she was having a hard time tearing her eyes away from Melanie's cleavage as with each breath it rose and fell, jiggling profoundly and deliciously.

It took a half-second for Amy to register a soft creak off to her left. She pulled her gaze away from the secretary's funbags to see one of the farthest-left doors slowly opening. At first no one was visible behind the door, and Amy had a flash of a sense that she was watching one of those old, cheesy horror movies where ghosts are constantly opening doors and making pots and pans rattle around out of boredom. Before long, though, a figure emerged from the doorway, against the backdrop of a heavily-shadowed room punctuated by flashing equipment lights. It was a huge woman — at least as tall as Miss Rhea and even more astonishingly well-muscled. She wore a skimpy, black latex parody of a nurse's uniform, with skirt, gloves, heels and a negligible top, which provided a pleasing contrast to her pale white skin. After tearing her gaze away from the nurse's tits, even more ample and invitingly displayed than Melanie's, Amy noticed two rather more ominous features. The first was that, attached under the brim of her red-crossed hat, the violet-haired figure wore a dark lace veil that totally obscured her face. The second was that she was cradling a huge black gun in her hands, stroking it in an almost sexual manner.

"You can come in now, if you like. The nurses are ready to see you."

"Err ... I'm fine, I think I'd better..."

Melanie's voice turned to ice. "Ino, grab her."

Before Amy could react, Ino had transferred the gun to her right hand and taken hold of Amy's arm with her left. Immediately she jerked Amy several feet across the room until she was behind Amy, then painfully embraced the girl against her chest with one huge arm, disabling both of Amy's arms. Before she knew it, Ino's firm tits were pressing against Amy's back; her cock, previously invisible under a black skirt, was pressing against Amy's ass; and the huge gun was pressing against Amy's temple. After calling back to Melanie to shut the door, Ino brought an unresisting Amy into the room, which only got darker as they progressed. At length Amy was forced onto a soft surface she couldn't see. Semicircular cold metal restraints were secured, attaching her neck, hands and feet to the surface. She couldn't see through the darkness enough to discern who was binding her; sometimes it seemed like one person, sometimes two. The noise of heels on the floor was drowned out by the loud, high-pitched whine of a nearby machine; just when she was getting used to it, it would cut out for a moment or change in pitch, then reappear, seemingly invigorated. Gradually the combination of stresses — the pain of the tight restraints, the physical disorientation, the rudeness of treatment — pushed Amy's new, obedient personality to the background. She became tense, alert, hypersensitive — combat-ready.

Suddenly a light went on, so harsh it nearly blinded Amy. She rapidly blinked to clear her vision and scanned the room hastily. She first saw that she was on a bed with black sheets, which gave her hope that she might be able to escape by gouging out the material, if she could get enough movement going. At some point, apparently, two huge steel barriers had come down from the ceiling, enclosing her in a space no more than twenty feet wide and fifteen feet long. The violet-haired nurse, Ino, had removed her gloves, revealing bubblegum-pink nails on her right hand, and some rather dangerous-looking steel claws on her left. Another nurse, slightly shorter than Ino, had her back turned to the whining machine, apparently feeding it instructions. Her absurdly long, wavy red-burgundy hair seemed very familiar, but her mind somehow couldn't manage to place it. She turned her attention back to Ino, who was advancing towards the bed, and fixed her with a gaze of newfound defiance, although she hadn't quite remembered what was behind it.

"I see we're awake," said the violet-haired figure. Her voice was cute and melodic, like that of a rich, refined teen princess. The veiled girl adjusted the rapidly growing bulge under her skirt. "How are we feeling?"

Amy said nothing, merely intensifying her efforts to extract her hands and feet from her bonds. Though the bed's material felt soft, it had very little give, and she seemed unable to tear it with her nails. Dipping a leg or arm down provided a brief respite from the pain, but after a second or two the limb was forced back up and her restraints cut into her flesh even more. Each time a new cut appeared it quickly began to heal, but it seemed to take twenty or thirty seconds — Amy couldn't quite tell because she could barely see the cuts out of her peripheral vision.

Suddenly, Ino strode to the side of the bed, extended her right (clawless) hand, and slapped Amy with astonishing force across the face. Her head turned to the side, leaving a painful scratch in her throat from the restraint and causing her to cry out in pain, which only made the wounds worse. Amy momentarily blacked out from the pain. When she came to she could barely move, and there was something sharp stuck in her neck. Momentarily Ino extracted her claw from a vein in Amy's neck, tauntingly moving it in front of the girl's face as Amy's blood, tinted purple from the claw's poison, dripped from it.

"Ah, that should keep you more cooperative," said Ino. "You can release the restraints at your leisure. How's the beam coming?" she called out to the red-haired nurse at the machine."

"It should be ready for the next half-hour, Mistress Ino. After you perform the injection, I'll follow your instructions."

That voice, that voice — where had Amy heard it? Low and tough, but mellifluous and feminine, sweet like the darkest old wine, badass, beautiful. A familiar voice, as familiar as that hair, shining gloriously in the harsh light of the hospital. A distant memory, but one that had once been important. A memory from some other context, in some other universe. It was slipping perpetually out of her grasp, or perhaps was never there at all.

"Ah yes, the injection." Ino, standing over the bed with bare, muscular arms crossed under the tight latex crop top stretched over her massive globes, still wearing her inscrutable black veil, continued in her light, exuberant voice. "You see, my cutie patient Amy, there are four parts to the process you are now undergoing to make you a full and productive member of our society, and to correct the defects your prefect has observed. The first was your disorientation, in order to bring your latent resistance to the surface. The second was your injection with one of several poisons I can secrete, thanks to Lady Akiko's technical advances. Specifically, the toxin prevents you from moving several key parts of the body -- in particular the extremities and the mouth. Let me show you."

Calmly, Ino lifted her black nurse hat and folded her veil under it. She exposed an adorable, porcelain-doll face, with wide violet eyes and delicate features. She slowly leaned in for a kiss, her movement less patient than dramatic. Her puffy plum-painted lips made soft wet contact with Amy's mouth. The blonde girl's eyes were open wide in the only protest against this humiliation she could mount. Nothing else would budge. She couldn't even control the pace of her steady nasal breathing, much less move here lips, which Ino's long tongue now levered open without effort. Now Ino climbed on top of the girl, deepening the kiss, exploring and penetrating Amy's mouth. Ino's shaft pressed against Amy's bare stomach, pulsating and warm, frightening but oddly comforting, a stationary counterpoint to Ino's unpredictable tongue. Amy barely noticed as her now-pointless restraints snapped free, and she still couldn't remember why she was defiant, and she was beginning to enjoy herself when Ino, without warning, broke the kiss. Ino straddled Amy in a kneel, her throbbing cock poking out a couple of inches from under the tiny black skirt, pulsing less than a foot from her mouth.

"As you can see," Ino resumed, "your mouth cannot resist me. So I can feel free to proceed with the third stage of the plan — an injection of our recently-developed serum which fully harmonizes your body to the Anomaly's effects. I am a carrier of this serum."

Amy was still trying to figure out what Ino was talking about — was she going to stick another claw in her? -- when the muscular nurse reared back and, in one powerful thrust, shoved most of her superhumanly huge cock into Amy's throat. The only resistance Ino met was through the physical narrowness of her throat, but Ino quickly overcame that with her all-conquering strength. As Amy's throat, still aching from Miss Rhea's penetration, was brutally violated once again, Amy wanted nothing more than to bite through this bitch's cock, rip her heart out and feed it to her, and then take out every last one of the motherfuckers who had put her in this position — not just the Darkbitch, about whom she still knew virtually nothing, but the people who had personally wronged her. The government agents who had given her super-strength and catlike reflexes but virtually eliminated her sex drive just to see how it would affect her combat skills. Her parents, who had basically sold her to the government in return for several million dollars, and told her friends she had drowned in the pool. She wanted to kill every last one of them. But she couldn't move. All she could do was cry and sniffle as Ino's soft, childlike moans filled the air as she thrust her huge rod inexorably deeper into Amy's wet, powerless throat.

"When I — ugh — release my cum in your throat, this will complete your physical changes. The process will be — aah — painful, but not much more so than this is. When your body changes — ooooh! — your arousal will increase, and certain mental changes that you may have already noticed will — fuck that's good — intensify. Now you can just sit back and wait for it, my cutie. Not that you — unnnnnnnh yes — can do anything else."

Tears streamed down Amy's cheeks as her mind exploded with blind rage. The waves of pain — advancing as Ino's shaft continued to swell in Amy's throat and receding as her not-quite-developed healing factor repaired the damage — should have been tolerable. But they really just seemed to add insult to injury — particularly given the weak suction that for some reason remained, enhancing her tormentor's pleasure. The pain proved that she was powerless, just as she had been powerless since she got here, and powerless in the Silver Squad. No one ever asked her if she wanted to sleep in barracks, train fourteen hours a day and get injected with hormones that made her look like a wet dream, but left her unable to comprehend their lust-filled stares, much less to reciprocate. No one asked her if she wanted to steal documents from the British government, or if she wanted to torture the Muslim man who would supposedly be more shamed if a scantily-clad teenage girl did it, or if she wanted to spend nights with Agent Smith's boss, a woman she only knew as Red, dolled up in a frilly pink dress getting plowed by her plastic cock and pretending she was having the time of her life when she might as well have been scrubbing the floor. Getting facefucked by Ino's monster, which was moving faster and faster now, building up to its inevitable climax to the soundtrack of Ino's crescendoing moans, seemed like just another chapter in ten years of life as someone's impotent plaything. All she wanted, she thought, was to be her own person, to be free and independent, to use the beautiful body that she had sacrificed so much for the way she chose, and, finally, to be able to love and to be loved. As she thought of love, a stream of images came to mind, unbidden and uninvited — Julia's beautiful rosebud in the moonlight, Julia's tender and unpretentious kisses.

Her train of thought was interrupted by a warm torrent suddenly flowing in the back of her throat, which would no doubt have sent her choking and gagging if those reflexes still worked. Instead it slowly slid to her stomach, spurred on by the weak, cooperative suction she couldn't stop. A bucking, moaning Ino drew back to release a second and third load into her mouth, running over her lips and allowing her to taste it. Lime flavored, tangy, a bit harsh, but delicious. Uncontrollably she swallowed, a bit at a time in the same regular, weak motion that she had swallowed Ino's cock — Amy had no idea if it was an intentional side effect of the serum or not. All she knew was that she was slowly consuming the whole massive load. It tasted so good that she was caught off guard when the pain began.

It started in her chest, as she watched her already thin waist shrink as if corset-crushed and her already toned abdominal muscles ripple and expand. Soon after, her already proud breasts began to inflate until they stuck several inches out from her chest; the porn-star boobs should have shredder her blouse, but it inflated to keep pace, ending up at the same rather stretched state at which it had started. A lightened and almost glowing patch of skin, not quite as porcelain as Ino's but close, started near her navel and gradually expanded outwards. Her expanded musculature traveled down her legs and arms, but also stretched them; her head was pushed further away from her chest by a longer neck. Her nose, mouth, chin, eyes burned for a few seconds each. Her golden-blonde hair sprouted new ringlets and curls like a plant growing in stop-motion, until it approached fairytale-princess length. And as the changes continued, they seemed easier and easier to bear. Amy noticed that she had finished the lime-flavored spunk in her mouth and absently emitted a cute moan of despair.

A second or two later, her soft-focus, sluggish mind arrived at the realization that Ino's first serum was wearing off. She could move again! That brought a brief, thrilling moment of joy. But she couldn't figure out why she wanted to move. Hazily, Amy remembered her rebellion and hatred at Ino's violation, but it seemed silly to worry about the temporary pain of the injection, given its impressive results. Slowly, she raised herself up by her massive arms to get a better look at her body. It was fucking hot. The muscular legs a mile long hanging off the edge of the bed, the waspish waist that she could barely see over the funbags that jiggled with each small movement — compared to what she had now, her body in the Silver Squad came off like a slightly sexed-up volleyball player. Admittedly, she still felt loyal to her friends and wanted to seek them out — they deserved bodies like hers, especially if they could still be themselves afterwards. She missed Eri, her twin sister — imagine her with a body like this. And the other girl, who was always teasing me, but who had a good heart. The sexpot — what did she look like again? What was her name? She wasn't sure. She looked up to ask Ino if she could go now, to find her friends and bring them here. But Ino had slipped out.