His new (slow feminization) space suit

... your space suit. Made from the newest materials, it will protect you from gamma rays, moderate your body temperature, all powered by consuming your waste products. Sweat, urine, feces, semen, etcetera." Doctor Andrews rambled on while Mark looked on dumbly with a mix of amazement and skepticism.

"Uhh, that don't look like no suit I ever seen." Burton reached for it. He didn't notice Andrews or the nurse hold their breath slightly. "Do I just put one leg in and then another?"

The ball of blackness sat in his fingers. To Burton it just felt like a new rubber ball despite its unusual appearance. The redheaded nurse stepped closer, breasts right at Burton's eye level. "That, Lieutenant Burton needs to sit in the rectum. We can't have all of your farts in a closed space capsule can we? It'd be a stinky fire hazard." She giggled and touched his chest. "It is pre-lubricated and should slip right in. Soon you'll forget it's even there."

Burton didn't seem eager. He seemed to realize the absurdity of it all, sitting naked in this chair with this weird suit with two beauties and it was supposed to go in his butt. Really? The nurse shifted a heeled leg against his, breaking his concentration. "I could help you with that if you needed it...", she practically dare him.

"No. I can do it", Mark said a little more forcefully than necessary. He needed to regain control of the situation. The ladies' professional smiles gained a touch of satisfaction.

With that the nurse stepped back and Lieutenant Burton leaned forward and brought the little ball behind him. The nurse was right, it did feel a little slick as it touched his cheeks. A bit like wiping his ass he thought. Soon he nestled the little ball in the right spot. A little push and it opened slightly. Not uncomfortable, just weird. Whatever. He wasn't going to flunk out on day one. He shifted his weight a little and gave it a firm push.

All at once it slipped inside of him, and a snapping sound like a rubber band breaking rang through the medical room. Burton blinked once as tufts of hair drifted downward out of the air. Hair? Mark tried to gather his bearings amongst the sensory overload. His asshole felt weird of course, and the ball was certainly inside. It felt like he had to shit. But his face and arms and... he looked downwards. Instead of his skin was a slick, jet black suit. He held a hand out, and it too was covered in the suit. It didn't seem very thick. His fingers moved without much resistance, though they looked like nail-less doll fingers. He gently touched his head. The hair floating in the air must have been his. His head, chest, legs, and crotch were all this hairless black suit.

Wait! His crotch! His right hand zipped around from behind to where his dick should be. The feeling was still there, but where was it? The suit was flat and smooth.

Emily Andrews was pleased. No need to tranquilize this one. She wondered if that compliance would make the rest of the experiment more successful. "Mister Burton, everything is still there, I assure you. But we can't have your semen floating around in space getting in people's eyes and the such. You'll train with the suit here on Earth so you can focus on the mission when the time comes." That seemed to calm him, this strange jet black doll-man poking at his toes, each individually wrapped in slick black suit skin.

"Come on Mark, you have some free time before the end of the day. Let's get you to your quarters."