A laboratory kind of room.

Michael wakes up seeing a bright light directly in front of him. The sudden glares is like that of the sun gleaming in one's eyes when waking up in the morning. Michael turns his head left and right trying to refocus. He wishes he didn't. There, his head lay low, his chin touching his sternum, and his eyes and mind bewildered and shocked. He stared at the two mounds of flesh protruding from his chest. He wanted to touch them just to prove to himself if what he was actually seeing was not a dream. His hands were again to his dismay, bounded at his side.

Next, as if it was instinct, he tried to find the urge to move the muscles of his crotch and make sure his pride and joy was still existent. Again and again he tried to no luck. His manhood had become what a celibate woman could put a chastity belt around.

Tears started flowing from his eyes and he started wishing to be in a prison rather than be here. Not a drop of salty tears had fell when he heard a door open to his right. There he saw another familiar face attached to a figure only he and other men would see in fantasies.

It was the smaller, blonde-haired Asian woman from the hanger. She spoke to Michael in a rather friendly voice, like when a female doctor talk to a female patient.

"Hello. How are we doing today?"

Michael refuses to answer. She takes no offense to his refusal. And to no warning she reaches behind Michael's neck and grabs something.