New You

The medical suite was cool and brightly lit. Dr. Glasscock had you both drop the short robes the moment the door sealed. You stood side by side on the low platform while she moved around you with a tablet and precise measuring tools.

She measured Stephie first. Soft gloved fingers lifted, turned, and recorded. The numbers appeared on the wall screen a moment later.

Subject B – Stephie

Flaccid: 6.0 in length × 4.67 in girth

Erect: 8.0 in length × 5.75 in girth

Then she turned to you. The same careful process. When the numbers locked into place beside Stephie’s, the gap was brutal.

Subject A – Guest

Flaccid: 3.0 in length × 2.335 in girth

Erect: 4.0 in length × 2.875 in girth

Exactly half in every dimension. Your cock, even fully hard, looked almost delicate next to the heavy eight-inch shaft that had already started to swell between Stephie’s slender thighs.

Dr. Glasscock studied the comparison for a long moment, then gave a small, decisive nod.

“Significant size differential,” she said calmly. “Protocol for this pairing includes immediate containment of the smaller subject.” She opened a drawer and removed a compact metal chastity cage—small, shiny, clearly sized for something modest. “This will remain in place for the duration of the optimization. The smaller cock is not required for the complementary dynamic.”

Your face burned, but the obsession already planted in the villa bathroom kept you from protesting. Stephie watched with open interest as Dr. Glasscock worked. Cool metal slid behind your balls. Your half-sized cock was guided into the short curved cage and locked with a crisp click. The device was tight enough that even the beginning of an erection met unyielding bars. A thin bead of precum already welled at the tip.

“Good,” Dr. Glasscock murmured. “Contained. Now the serum and reinforcement.”

Two injections followed—one in each of your left thighs. The pearlescent fluid burned cold, then warm, spreading into your groin. Your locked cock throbbed uselessly against the metal. Stephie’s massive cock swelled to its full eight inches under the same serum, the 5.75-inch girth looking even more extreme against her petite frame.

Dr. Glasscock dimmed the lights and activated the large screen.

“Eyes forward. Do not look away.”

The video began in soft pink and lavender light. Slow, looping close-ups of a massive cock—thick, heavy, identical to Stephie’s—resting against a small, toned, feminine body. Smaller hands (clearly the viewer’s) stroking it, struggling to wrap around the girth, kissing the head. Intercut with shots of a locked, half-sized cock leaking inside a metal cage.

A calm, layered female voice whispered over the footage:

She is bigger…

You are smaller…

Smaller means submissive…

Locked means available…

Her cock is the only one that matters…

You exist to serve the bigger cock…

Kneel for it…

Crave it…

Submit…

Every few seconds the screen flashed the exact measurements side by side, the gap glowing. First-person shots showed someone on their knees, caged cock dripping, staring up at an eight-inch shaft that looked exactly like Stephie’s. The commands repeated, sinking deeper with every loop while the serum made resistance feel distant and unnecessary.

Your locked cock pulsed and leaked inside the cage. The obsession that had started as simple fascination hardened into something more absolute: the need to stay smaller, stay locked, stay focused on the massive cock that now dominated every thought. Stephie watched the screen with parted lips, her heavy erection standing obscenely from her slender hips, clearly aware of how fixed your eyes had become on it.

When the video finally ended and the lights rose, both of you were flushed and breathing harder. Dr. Glasscock checked the lock on your cage once more, then nodded.

“Containment and submission priming complete for tonight. Return to your villa. The serum will continue working. You will find the urge to submit to the larger cock increasingly difficult to ignore.”

The walk back felt different. Every step made the heavy outline of Stephie’s cock move under her short robe. Your own half-sized cock ached inside its new metal prison, the cage tugging with every movement. The hypnosis and the serum had done their work: the only thing left in your head was the size of her cock, the weight of it, and the growing certainty that you belonged on your knees for it.

Stephie noticed the way your eyes stayed fixed on the thick bulge beneath her robe. She let her hip brush yours deliberately, the massive cock pressing against your thigh for a long moment.

“Still can’t stop thinking about it?” she asked quietly, voice low and pleased. “Good. That’s exactly what the session was for.”

You walked the rest of the way in silence, locked, smaller, and already aching to submit, the Caribbean night air doing nothing to cool the heat under your skin as the villa came back into view. The cage was tight. The craving was tighter.