It hurts!

Connie’s notes 2

I fucking hate this. I hate it.

My cock is basically a curse. I’ve been lying here since midnight feeling like someone is kicking me in the crotch. This could not get much worse. I cant even see any major differences in size or girth! I’m litterly doubled in over in pain every night, right now while I’m typing and I’m still seeing no marketable results.

The treatment is almost over. I know patience is the name of the game, but I am beginning to really loose my bottle with this. This has to be the most painful thing I’ve ever done. But It’ll be worth it, in the end. It has to be.

What followed was another fortnight of gruelling and self inflicted torment. The pill she took would cause her to feel dull pain in her groin and eventually a stabbing sensation around her hips and buttocks, while the cream burned and required deep, rough rubbing in to the skin for proper application. In short - it hurt like a mother fucker.

Connie had to apply it 4 time a day. Every time it got worse.

Fortunately she’d realized this was going to happen, so it didn’t crush her resolve too much. As the new connections and changes to her body set in by **** she knew it wouldn’t exactly be a walk in the park. She imagined it was effectively like hammering in a thousand nails and feeding wires through walls, just at a cellular level. She wasn’t going to stop applying it but the dread when her timer rang was next level stuff. She’d taken to biting down on a leather strap for the 40 or so minutes the worst pains set in for to prevent herself screaming. She applied it once on waking up, once on her lunch break, once on getting home and once before bed. Excruciating. necessary.

The unfortunate side effects of her CBT formula didn’t stop there either. Unfortunately and embarrassingly she’d lost what little control of her cock she had and was now incontinent again. She’d wet herself 4 times, once even while working. Her only warning was the warm trickle running down her leg!

She cringed when she thought of it. Stood at the desk opposite Sandra, another one of the researchers, worked on another project blissfully unaware as Connie involuntarily emptied her bladder due to a mixture of pain and loss of control. There was no stopping it, even grabbing and trying to manually **** close her pee hole didn’t work. Connie flushed bright red as she tried to think about the best move and subtly moved behind her desk so the pooling liquid was less likely to be spotted and let the rest flow out of her, soaking her trousers and leaving a dark patch that ran down her leg.

She had to continue working for 20 minutes, soaked in pee, before she got an opportunity to clean her mess. Sandra tried to approach her desk twice, resulting in panicked shooing away that Connie only hoped came across as playful and friendly. Connie wasn’t sure if she sensed something was up or could smell the pee, but she eventually legitimately left because she wanted to get some fresh air and a drink. Eventually she offered to buy them both a coffee and left for the cafeteria.

The worst thing for Connie was having to find the resources to mop up her own piss. Wrapping her coat around her waist to cover the stain, she cautiously wandered to the store cupboard, grabbing a roll of absorbent paper towels. She was flush, and she could feel herself beginning to sweat heavily from the stress. She almost got caught in a few mindless conversations with her friendly colleagues on her way back and spent about a minute making extremely flustered small talk with on of the managers who looked like he could smell something but couldn’t put his finger on exactly what or where it was coming from. Anticipating this, Connie dropped that she’d taken to doing squats during her break and he eventually told her she ‘looked exhausted’ and should go home and shower - It could have been worse she supposed, at least he just thought it was body odour rather than the unfortunate truth...

She cleaned the floor and threw on the air conditioning. Knowing she couldn’t risk leaving evidence, she packed the used and soaked paper towels in her work bag and binned them at home.

She needed a solution to this issue. Using her brain, she decided to wear quick drying gym trousers to work from now on, under a long coat. They were tight, but her tiny appendage was too small to show and their dark colour would help hide any more... accidents, if they occurred. She also changed her drinking habits, knowing fluids take about 2 hours to run through the body she adapted to only drinking at night and sleeping on a rubber mattress topper until her penis strengthened up. She also began - as violent as it sounded - clamping a condom over her cock while she was out to prevent leakages. Fortunately, this wasn’t going to be a problem much longer but while her concoction took effect she’d need to practice caution.

More annoyingly than all this - she was really beginning to notice it now. The lack of release. The minimal physical changes she noted were coming at a snails pace. Hunkering down for the moment, she started to plan a third, potential solution, another way to quicken the pace of her penile perplexity. But for now she was content seeing through the current technique to it’s logical end, no mind the frustration built up inside her.