RR Lori Warren - Chapter 25 (Patreon)

Refresh your memory of Chapter 24 

Chapter 25 - Reduction Therapy

[September 5th, 2005]

As Michael observed Dr. Bexley’s nimble but short fingers dancing over various keyboards and interfaces, there was a knock–way on the other side of the space at a different door. Another woman entered.

This second woman, much like Quinn, appeared to be in the early stages of her professional journey, not long removed from high school. As slender as Quinn was, she still filled her papery thin lab coat more than this newcomer. Her fair, porcelain skin suggested a dislike for the sun, if not a downright fear and her jet black hair only made the contrast that much more stark.

She was a stark contrast to the petite figures of Quinn and Dr. Bexley. Definitely taller but nowhere near as tall as Michael.

“Hi Dr. Bexley.  Quinn said you were doing an RT session?”

“Hello Jane. Indeed, I am.” Dr. Bexley said.  “Do you know if Quinn spoke with Brandi?”

“She was going to, but I already talked to her.” Jane replied, briefly looking over at Michael and then returning her gaze to Dr. Bexley.  “Brandi said she could start with him right after RT finishes.”

“Oh, I’m not going home after this?”

Jane whipped her head quickly toward Michael, as if she were offended by the question.  Dr. Bexley had a much sweeter expression, tilting her head sympathetically. “Not quite, Michael. But there’s not too much left.  But after Jane and I are finished with you, you’ll be going to see Brandi, our Acclimation Therapist.”

Dr. Bexley left the various systems she’d initiated to power up, approaching Michael and gazing up at him

“I need you to strip down.”

A sudden hush enveloped the room as Michael's heartbeat quickened, and a nervous energy gripped him like an unrelenting vice. He shifted uncomfortably, in response not just to the scientific demands of the moment but also the undeniable allure of Dr. Alexandria Bexley.

A bead of sweat formed on Michael's forehead as he nervously cleared his throat. He stole glances between the two women, their expressions revealing nothing of their thoughts.

"Strip?" Michael finally managed to stammer, his voice a mix of confusion and apprehension.

Dr. Bexley, with a nonchalant composure, confirmed, "That's correct. We'll give you some privacy." Her matter-of-fact tone did little to ease the escalating tension.

Michael hesitated, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. The notion of undressing in the presence of these two striking women, particularly Dr. Bexley added an unexpected layer of vulnerability. If he’d have known he was getting naked, he would have spent a lot more time in the shower this morning; and he definitely would have shaved!

Michael expected the promise of privacy to translate into the two women leaving the room. Instead, the two women only faced away from him, tinkering with the machine some more. With a reluctant sigh, Michael accepted that he was going to have to disrobe in the same room as these women and unbuttoned his shirt.

“Have you ever started the RTD up?” Dr. Bexley asked Jane.

‘So that’s what this giant monster of a machine is called?  The RTD?  What’s with all these acronyms?’ Michael thought, sliding out of his button up shirt.  ‘There’s no way everyone actually remembers them.’

“Yes, but only for the diagnostic checks.” Jane said.

“Okay, well it's not difficult at all.  We just press this button here, we enter in the password just like we do for the diagnostics...”

Dr. Bexley instructed Jane as Michael set his folded button-up shirt and jeans on a nearby stool, next to the only other stool at the only table in the room.  The table was neat and clean, containing an empty tray, another tray containing a few small beakers, a scale, and a few sheets of paper clamped onto a clipboard.  He removed his socks next, inserting them into his shoes and stacked them onto his jeans.

“We flip this metallic switch to allow the pressure to start building…yes, that one there…then we initially set the motors to 65%.  Do you remember why we start at 65%?”

Jane squinted her eyes, searching for the answer in her mind.  “To account for the inrush current? And avoid overloading the electrical circuits?”

Michael felt his heart skip a beat when a thunderous sound reverberated through the hard floor and up his cold bare feet as the motors started up.

“Exactly right, Jane.  Lastly, let's make sure the LED’s and laser angle parameters are set to ‘TRACK THROUGHOUT’.”

Dr. Bexley finished showing Jane the startup process for whatever the hell that machine would do and the two women turned back to face Michael, standing there in a pair of plaid boxers.  Their eyes wandered down his body and stopped on the boxers.

“Oh, you’ll have to remove those as well, Michael.” Dr. Bexley said.

‘Fuck’, Michael thought.

The worst part was that they were all finished with starting the machine up, so the two women had nothing to do but stand there and wait.

..and watch.

Michael reluctantly lowered his boxers and Dr. Bexley snapped on a pair of aqua-blue surgical gloves. He felt his soft cock bounce a bit in the open air as he stepped out of his underwear, placing a large hand over top of his large package. It didn’t do much to obfuscate the ladies’ view of everything, and less so considering the first thing Dr. Bexley reached out for his hands.

“It’s okay, Michael.” Dr. Bexley cooed, her tone almost too warm and friendly.  “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Michael slowly raised his cupped hand, a shiver running up his spine as the cold air surrounded his swaying cock.

“Jane, go ahead and start filling out the Pre-RT Screening Form Checklist.” Dr. Bexley said.

The doctor inspected his fingertips as Jane put a pen to the paper that was on the table.

“What’s his subject number?” Jane asked without looking up.

“298-A” Dr. Bexley responded, still looking closely at Michael’s fingernails.

It was really shocking how nudity could make you feel so small…even in front of a woman who barely came up to his chest.  Her fingers were shorter than the width of his palm, but standing naked before her left David feeling diminutive and he couldn’t help but look longingly at his clothing, eager to cover back up.  But still, he was a flesh-and-blood man…and he’d seen a few porn movies that started in a very similar fashion to the experience he was having right now. He caught a whiff of Dr. Bexley’s perfume and he felt some involuntary movement down between his legs.

“No acute paronychia on the fingers.” Dr. Bexley said and Jane scribbled into the form.

“Parone-what?” Michael said, chuckling a bit at his own failed attempt at restating the word.

“They’re essentially hangnails.”

Dr. Bexley squatted down, her head lowering past his stomach, past his cock, and looked down at his feet.  His eyes widened a bit as he looked down, her black scalp only inches below his cock.  Michael had a thing for short girls, and Dr. Bexley’s head was making his cock look massive.  He felt her gloved hands rub the tops of a few of his toes, and then she looked up at him, past his loosening, relaxed dick and smiled. She stood back up to full height, her compressed breasts bouncing just enough to catch Michael’s attention.

“None on the toes either.” She said without looking back at Jane, who was diligently writing.  Dr. Bexley looked up at Michael and put two gloved hands on either side of his face.  The warmth of her small hands made him inadvertently shudder, and her human response was to smile warmly.  She had to have noticed.

“Say ahh for me.” Dr. Bexley tilted Michael’s head down and looked up into his mouth.  “No fillings.” She dictated to Jane.  “Have you had any dental work recently, Michael?”

“No.” Michael managed to say, his tongue pressing against Dr. Bexley’s probing fingers.

Perhaps it was a combination of how wonderful her perfume was, how beautiful her big green eyes were, and how close she was to him…but Michael felt himself losing control.  He could feel himself starting to stiffen.  Her fingers drifted down to his neck and started massaging at the sides, applying gentle pressure that did nothing to help his growing erection.

“Lymph nodes are normal.”

She was working her way back down.  Michael entered a stage of panic, terrified of this gorgeous doctor’s reaction to his throbbing erection.  He tried his best to stifle what was happening, but Dr. Bexley’s charm was too much for his attempts to resist.  She lowered her hands, resting them on his hips and her eyes wandered down.

‘Oh my god, she’s literally staring right at it.’ Michael thought.

Time seemed to stand still as Michael watched Dr. Bexley watching his rock hard cock.  His nerves were coiled like tightly wound springs. His breath caught in his throat as her gaze lingered. Time seemed to stretch and skew, each second an agonizing eternity.

And then, her penetrating green eyes flickered. The corners of the beautiful raven-haired doctor’s mouth lifted as she continued her disconcertingly intimate inspection.  “Well…” Dr. Bexley started, her words carried by a tone of wry amusement, “No blood flow issues.”

Michael’s cock twitched, almost painfully.

“Where is that on here?” Jane’s brow wrinkled in confusion as she leafed through the paperwork.

“It's not, don’t worry about it.” Dr. Bexley said quickly.

Her piercing gaze climbed back up his nude body to meet his eyes.  She had such a confidence about her he found himself way more embarrassed than turned on…and she was just business as usual.

“Any recent cuts, burns, or abrasions?” With a tender touch, Dr. Bexley inspected his broad shoulders and checked the inboard sides of his biceps.

“No, nothing I’m aware of.” He said as she lifted his arms.  “Why?”

She ran her fingers over his flat stomach and kept going.  She was going back down.

He shivered when her gloved fingers started probing below his belly button.

“We have to keep an eye out for breaks in the skin.  We’ve noticed that, if they’re large enough, they can cause some…unexpected complications in the RT process. I know it’s uncomfortable but trust me, It’ll help maximize the probability of a successful session.”

Michael had only just nodded in agreement with the doctor’s clinical and professional response to his question when he felt her small fingers circle his now rock-hard shaft.

‘Fuuuuuuuuck’.  It took every bit of strength he had to resist the urge to moan.  She couldn’t even get her hand around it.

“I’m sorry about that.” Michael stammered, his voice trembling.

Dr. Bexley didn’t look up. She continued her inspection, her tone almost prideful, “Don’t worry about it, these things happen all the time.”

She tightened her fingers around his thick, aching shaft and it took every ounce of willpower not to thrust his hips into her small, feminine hand. There was no way she couldn’t feel the blood rushing through it.

But if she did, she was doing a great job ignoring it. Dr. Bexley lifted Michael’s stiff cock and looked underneath, and then shifted his balls around, fluttering them in her fingers which almost sent him to his knees.  He stared down, watching his abs flex and twitch as she continued massaging and applying pleasant pressure on and around his sack. “Everything looks healthy down here.” She said, releasing him and standing back up.  He could only assume that was what Jane was writing down.

She lightly touched his hips and applied pressure in either direction, urging him to turn around.  As she turned him, the head of his cock brushed roughly against her soft, white lab coat.  This time he actually let out a moan; he just couldn’t control it.

She didn’t respond.

Dr. Bexley looked over his back, rubbing in certain spots along his shoulders and lateral muscles.  It felt like she was massaging his muscles, which was only making things worse for Michael who was trying to think of anything else other than Dr. Bexley’s hands on his body.  Or her swaying, shapely ass.  Or the shimmering jewel hidden away and nestled in her deep cleavage at that very moment.  Oh, to be that jewel...

“Above average muscle development.” Dr. Bexley said, oblivious to the perversions forcibly dancing through Michael’s mind. Her hands drifted to his lower back and then cupped his ass.  His eyes widened and he breathed sharply as he felt her parting his glutes.  “No signs of tearing, hemorrhaging, or bleeding.”

He then heard the snap of those aqua gloves, this time coming off her small hands and Michael was beyond relieved.

“That’s all for the checklist.” Dr. Bexley said to Jane, who flipped the collection of pages closed and set it back down on the table. Michael’s relief quickly returned to apprehension, for Dr. Bexley was not instructing him to put his clothes back on.  She pressed into the small of his back and encouraged him toward the behemoth machine that they called the RTD.

“It’s time to start RT, Michael.”

He could hear Jane’s footsteps very closely behind him, as if she were a second police officer assisting Officer Bexley in escorting a prisoner to this plexiglass cell.  Before the three of them entered the enclosure, Dr. Bexley checked a large switch next to the computer. “Switch is off and secured.”

The switch had a narrow steel bar entering through the side of the switch assembly to prevent the switch from being flipped by accident.

“Okay, I’m going to set this chair up for you and then I’ll need you to have a seat.”

“Why does it have that?” Michael asked, referring to the raised perimeter around the seat of the chair.  It looked as if someone had taken strips of thick, rounded metal, around 3” wide by 12” long, and glued them to the right half of the seat in a square shape.

“I know it looks uncomfortable, but you won’t be sitting here for long, I promise.” Dr. Bexley said.

There was a conveniently-placed stepping stool on the outside of the enclosure.  Jane handed it to Dr. Bexley and the petite doctor climbed up to the top step, now slightly taller than Michael.

“Is the weather better up here?” Michael asked. His defense mechanisms were kicking in…humor being one of them.  Dr. Bexley had been biting her lip in concentration as she reached for a device that was hanging from the ceiling, but now she laughed out loud at Michael’s question. “Oh, You have no idea..”

Dr. Bexley finally got a grip on the hanging device and pulled down gently. It looked like a shower head attached to a long, extendable cord.  Her fingers traced the sleek, black design along several low-profile buttons and when she pushed one of them, a small, continuous laser beam silently shot out the end of the device. She adjusted a large gear-shaped wheel along the side so that the laser beam was pointing directly in the center of the small, rectangular enclosure on the seat. After a few minutes of holding the button, the device made a confirmatory chirping sound and the laser flashed three times.  She released the device and stepped down from the stool.

“Should I even ask?” Michael asked as he watched the device slowly retract back to its position over the chair out of his reach and well out of Dr. Bexley’s.

“Probably not.” Dr. Bexley teased.

“Okay, Michael.  It’s all ready for you.”, she said encouragingly as she gently pushed him forward. Her hands remained on his body until he was seated and then she asked Jane to press the CAL-SET button on the monitor.

“Calibrate/Set Trajectory, right?” Jane asked.

Dr. Bexley replied, “That’s the one!”

As she did, Michael heard a faint click over his head.

As he predicted, the approximately 3-inch high section of the perimeter near his upper thigh dug painfully into his bare skin.  Dr. Bexley had him adjust his position so that the right side of his ass was essentially inside the rectangular shape and the other side of his ass was out.  It was incredibly awkward and uncomfortable, and the fact that he was completely naked didn’t make it any better, but Dr. Bexley insisted that this specific posture was incredibly important for RT, just in case anything went wrong.

Dr. Bexley stepped up on the foot rail of the chair to reach up over Michael’s head.  Another flush of warmth surged through his cheeks and radiated down to his crotch as the lab coat grazed the tip of his nose just firmly enough for him to feel the softness of the generous curves underneath.  If Michael had leaned his face in any closer, he’d have Dr. Bexley’s breasts pressing in on either side of his face. Was she that oblivious to her power?  To their power? Or was she doing this on purpose?

He looked up and saw the showerhead-looking device had begun lowering by itself and it now emitted a narrow green laser beam. When it was just low enough for Dr. Bexley to grab, she pulled it down and interlocked the adjustable cable

“You really can’t tell me what that thing does?” He asked nervously.

“Don’t worry, Michael.  It's just to keep track of you during the process.”

“Keep track of me?  Where would I be going, Dr. Bexley?”  The question sounded like a joke, but he was actually getting a little nervous now.

“Nowhere, you’ll be right here with us the whole time.” She rubbed his bare shoulder, wearing a disarming, lighthearted smile.  “It’s going to keep track of you and also your vitals throughout the whole session.”

“Dr. Bexley…..what on earth does this have to do with weight loss….is…is this safe?  To be honest this is kind of freaking me out.” Michael managed to say as Dr. Bexley stepped off the rail.

“Of course, it's safe, Michael.  You’ll be fine, I promise.”

“I think I’m starting to have second th–”

“--and right after the session, we’ll get you on that scale.  What did your contract say again?  $70 per pound?”

“$80” Michael said, with a smile.  Just like that, all he saw were dollar signs.

The raven-haired doctor full-on laughed, which caught Michael a bit off guard.  “I knew you wouldn’t forget.” She placed a hand on his bare knee and asked, “Are you ready to start?”

Michael had barely said yes before Dr. Bexley’s hand lifted from his knee and she was turning back to Jane, giving her a nod.

“Okay, Jane.  So next, we shut the enclosure like this.” Dr. Bexley said in her ‘teaching’ tone to Jane, no longer looking at Michael.  Michael felt his heartbeat accelerating when that heavy latch clicked, sealing him in that plexiglass enclosure all by himself.  “We double check the cracks around the enclosure door to make sure it's sealed properly.”

Michael nervously adjusted, feeling a sharp pain in his upper thigh as he shifted atop the strange 3” tall extrusion.

“Then we ramp the motors from 65% to 85%.”  Dr. Bexley said, sliding her finger slightly up the screen.

The machine’s gentle humming transitioned into a primal, continuous growl and Michael was now shaking in his seat.  For the first time since volunteering for this, Michael was really starting to think that all this money might not actually be worth it. Surely when he came out on the other end, he’d criticize himself for being so nervous and be glad he did this.  He thought about saying something to the women on the other side of the reinforced, transparent enclosure but they were busy fiddling with the machine’s settings.

“We double check the angle setting on the lasers and lights…perfect…next we check how much compound we have….okay, the tank is 45% full; that’s plenty.  Now we remove the mechanical lock bar from the startup switch.”

Dr. Bexley removed the long, narrow silver bar Michael had stared at earlier. She was very interested in keeping it secured while she was inside the enclosure, but now that she was on the outside, she was more than happy to grant it freedom to move up and down. He watched her hand encircle the switch handle, just like it had encircled his throbbing cock moments before, and then she pulled down. There was an incredibly loud thud, which caused Michael and even the stoic, often-expressionless Jane to jump.  Michael’s eyes darted back from the women in lab coats to the wall of LED’s in front of him. Previously dim and green, they were now blinking and flashing beautifully.  The colors were vibrant and bright, and no LED remained the same color for more than a few seconds.

He also noticed that the LEDs that were at the farthest edges of the wall in front of him were beginning to angle inboard toward him, servo motors quietly buzzing as all the lights moved at uniform speeds. He was enthralled with the spectacle of orchestrated machinery as the lights above him angled down and the lights below him angled up; they all wanted to shine their bright light upon him.  Small particles of dust between the wall and his transparent enclosure were illuminated by laser beams that were moving slowly in concentric circles, slowly tightening.

There were nearly a dozen of the bright, solid beams, and they seemed to be automatically aligning to certain parts of his body.  Two lasers moved to his shoulders, two to his pec muscles, and one positioned itself directly in the center of his chest.  He looked down and followed two more laser beams as they traced down to his knees.

“Keep your head up, Michael…” Dr. Bexley’s voice screeched through an intercom speaker, her tone carrying hints of sweetness but it was mostly stern and urgent. “...and please try not to move.”

He could see in his peripherals the dancing laser beams start to calm down, tightening their concentric circles until finally everything was where it needed to be.

Michael was now breathing very heavily, sweat dripped from his forehead, and Dr. Bexley was standing with Jane next to a button on the machine as large as a softball that was now flashing pink.  She wasn’t pressing the intercom button when she talked to Jane, and it was getting harder to hear their conversation.

“So Quinn said she thought this might be your first time observing an RT session?” Dr. Bexley said, making small talk as Michael hyperventilated.

“No, I observed one with Dr. Walker a few weeks ago, but she said that one didn’t count because we couldn’t do the Post-RT process.”

“Oh, you couldn’t? Why was that?” Dr. Bexley asked…and then before Jane could say anything, the doctor quickly interrupted, “Actually, I think I know what you’re going to say. Let’s wait till after he’s done.”

Without another word to or glance over at Michael, Dr. Bexley’s small palm centered over a giant red button and she slammed it.  Immediately, the machine’s became nearly deafening.  Michael’s mild whimpering had turned to screams of fear. The intensity of the LED’s was no longer pleasant, and in fact they were hurting his eyes so badly that they began to water.  Even after slamming his eyelids shut, the bright lights easily passed the thin barrier of his eyelids and burned into his brain.  The blinking sequence was confusing and oddly uncomfortable. He stole occasional glances at the two women who were facing him.  He was looking for some kind of reassurance, but he didn’t get it.  Jane was watching very intently though, looking back and forth between the machine and Michael. Dr. Bexley was checking her phone.

He heard another motor above his head.  He looked up and saw the laser device that the doctor had positioned over his head earlier.  He heard a whirring sound and concluded that it was extending, coming down toward him.  It was strange though; he could tell it was slowly extending but it wasn’t getting any closer to him.

“Hey! Dr. Bexley said eyes forward.” Jane said loudly over the sound of the machine. There was no compassion in her voice.  Only stern instruction.

Dr. Bexley looked up from her phone, rejoining the moment. “Oh, It’s okay Jane.  The reduction has already begun.”

Michael looked up at the showerhead-like device. The tiny motor that extended the cord was spinning and the device was lowering toward him, but strangely enough it didn’t appear to get any closer to him.   He was now hearing those servo motors he’d heard earlier coming from the wall…only they were much louder and it sounded like there were way more working. He started to feel a strange tingling sensation in the depths of his chest.  It radiated out slowly through his arteries and veins. Michael felt the tingling, nearly pleasant warmth branching out to his arms and his stomach, down to his toes and up to his scalp.

The feeling was getting more intense.  He saw small arcs of electricity between the wall of LED’s and his enclosure and he was battling some severe disorientation.  He looked over at the women.  Were they both standing on step ladders now?  The top of the wall was growing as well, getting further and further up as the LED’s continued to compensate for the new height of the wall, more and more of the devices angling down toward him.  He looked down at his chair and noticed how large the seat was.  The raised perimeter had once been digging into the backs of his upper thighs.  Now it pressed against the backs of his knees, and it felt like it was pressing much harder…as if it were much higher...

He gasped sharply at the realization of what was happening.  It wasn’t that the wall was growing.  It wasn’t that the women were standing on ladders.  It wasn’t that the chair was widening beneath him.  He was shrinking!  The tingling was getting even stronger now, changing from a pleasant warmth to an uncomfortable burn.  He whimpered in discomfort and confusion, now too small to jump down safely from the chair.  He continued to dwindle, all under the watchful eyes of Dr. Bexley, Jane, and hundreds of LED lights and readjusting lasers.

Dr. Bexley and Jane were now standing right up against the enclosure peering in and down to see him as if he were some animal at the zoo.  Michael’s ankles were now dragging against the seat’s raised perimeter and the LED lights were nearly pointing straight down to reach him.  Things started accelerating and he felt the burning sensation increase, spreading throughout his body.

The lasers were still fixed on his body, and even as he readjusted his position they moved just as quick, nearly predicting his movements before he made them. At some point, the lasers gave up trying to fixate on their dedicated sections of his body and they turned off.  He felt ready to scream, as if he was going to explode…gnarled roots of deep black grew from his peripherals and narrowed his vision, accented by cracked veins of violent purple…his mind was clouding over, his vision degrading…everything was getting fuzzy…

…and then in an instant all the pain and fuzziness stopped.

He felt his body accelerate into the seat faster than anything he’d ever experienced in his life.  He had shrunk more in that fraction of a second than he had during this entire process. He stared out along the endless landscape that was his seat.  Far away from his spot at the center of the chair he could see the walls of the chair’s edge were now taller than he was. He looked around frantically, so low to the chair that he could only see Dr. Bexley and Jane’s faces on the other side of the enclosure.  The LED lights were no longer flashing as quickly and erratically; they were still blinking in different colors but much dimmer now.  They had also decided they were done looking at him, their angles all adjusting from nearly pointing straight down until they were aiming straight forward, so incredibly high above him.

The loud whirring of the motors had calmed as well and the machine was lightly humming again.  He heard a confirmatory chirping sound and looked up.  The massive, monstrous laser device was right over top of the massive steel fencing that contained him.  It chirped a second time, the green laser turned to red, and then it slowly started retracting again back up to the ceiling.  He heard a sharp, long beep and then Dr. Bexley say,

“Now, Jane.”

The next thing he heard was the sound of the enclosure door unlatching and opening.  What he saw nearly gave him a heart attack.  The short, raven-haired doctor was impossibly large. Something that big shouldn’t have been able to move so quickly..so gracefully.

“Subject is viable.” Dr. Bexley said, her feminine voice booming unexpectedly.  Michael felt air shifting around the tremendous doctor as she leaned in toward him. The air was influenced by the aura of her perfume and all he wanted to do was turn around and run.  Her massive green eyes were nearly as large as he was.

Dr. Bexley effortlessly engulfed the trembling, naked Michael in her hand, wrapping her thick, colossal fingers around him.  She lifted him gently off the chair and brought him out of the enclosure as Jane followed the procedure to shut down the machine.

~