© Copyright 2014 - Tonya Souther - Used by permission
Storycodes: M+/mf+; captive; encased; glass; bottle; stuck; emerse; chemicals; process; tease; denial; climax; reluct/cons; X
Chris woke up groggy as always. Man, that was some nightmare. Trapped in boiling water, drowning... He wondered how come it didn't awaken him. Oh well. He started to stretch. That's when he discovered he couldn't move. Something invisible was holding his body rigid, feet pointed, arms pinned to his sides, head held straight. He couldn't even turn his head enough to see what the matter was. All he could tell was that he wasn't in his bed at home.
No matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't budge. He tried shouting. All that got him was a ringing in the ears as the sound bounced back at him. Finally, for lack of anything else to do, he relaxed and tried feeling what had him pinned. All he could feel was something smooth against his bare skin. Squirming his hips eventually told him that there was something fat and long up his ass. Strange how he hadn't noticed. It was probably a good thing that he was out when that was shoved up inside him. He also felt his cock and balls encased in something unyielding. That was all, though. He finally dozed off because he couldn't do anything else.
Motion in front of him brought him awake again. He saw an ugly old geezer rolling something in front of him, then walking off. A shout didn't even make him turn his head. Chris's attention was drawn to the object, and he fell silent as he saw it was a mirror... and then what he saw in the mirror stunned him.
It was himself, sealed in a big glass bottle.
Chris tried getting someone's attention, anyone's. No luck. He shut up again and looked himself over. Well, that explained why he couldn't move. The bottle pressed tightly all over his somewhat pudgy form. His cock and balls stood out clearly in their compartment, and as he looked, his cock stiffened and strained against the clear shell. He blushed fiercely at the thought of being shown off like that, but his body had other ideas. Before he knew it, he was trying to hump the shell, or the rod inside him, or both. No success there, either.
After a couple of hours of that - or so he thought; it was impossible to tell - the ugly geezer came back in. He pushed the mirror out of the way and stood in front of Chris.
"I am Doctor Van Hugh. Normally, I have a little speech I give our donors at this point about how they have been chosen because they have the genetic makeup we need to extract what we call Essence of Woman from them. You are obviously not a woman, and yet you are here and sealed into an extraction bottle just as they would be."
Chris tried to get his attention. The geezer - doctor? what kind of doctor does this to people? - said, "Oh, by the way, you can save your breath. Nobody outside your bottle can hear you. You can only hear me because there's a speaker in the lid." Chris shut up again.
"You are here because of a mistake. That mistake may prove very lucrative for you, if you survive. You have the same genetic markers we look for in a woman. We had thought it was impossible for a man to have them, and yet you do. It seems the gene we need is present on your Y chromosome, due to a transcription error. It is normally present on both X chromosomes in the women we use.
"We have no idea what we will get when we try the harvesting procedure on you. When we harvest from a woman, we get Essence of Woman, a compound that we use to make the world's most exclusive, powerful perfume. A woman who wears it becomes completely irresistible to a man, and can manipulate him into doing anything she desires.
"We hope that you will produce the equivalent Essence of Man. If you do, and it works the same way, then we will remunerate you most handsomely after our standard term is complete. If you produce Essence of Woman - and you may; we simply don't know - then you will be remunerated less handsomely, but still very, very well, the same as the women who survive to earn their pay. If you produce something unusable, then we will still compensate you. Negative data is, after all, valuable in itself.
"However, you should know that few survive the usual period of time until we have fully extracted their Essence of Woman. We don't know how long you will be able to survive. That, too, is something we will learn from the experiment. If you do not survive, we will not compensate you, obviously.
"So far, all of the women who have survived the first course of extractions have refused to leave their bottle and instead asked to resume. They all died during the second course. They did, however, die very, very happy.
"The extraction and harvesting process is both extremely pleasurable and extremely uncomfortable for women, and we expect it will be for you as well. We have found it best for our donors to concentrate on the pleasure and learn to endure the discomfort as best they can. As for the pleasure..." The doctor rang the bottle with a small hammer.
Immediately, Chris's body was filled with vibration, concentrated in his cock and, it seemed, right against his prostate. He closed his eyes tight and moaned. "Good. I was hoping that my work on your bottle would have that effect. I am a master glass smith as well as a chemist." Chris struggled, trying to push himself over the edge, but eventually relaxed again.
"By the way, you should know that the technician who violated our testing procedures and led to your discovery also has the necessary genetic makeup. She will occupy the bottle directly across from yours. You may watch her treatments, as she watches yours. Indeed, you will have no choice. You should also know that her only chance for survival is for you to survive. If you die, she will not be permitted to leave her bottle. On the other hand, if you earn compensation, she will receive the same as you do, as well as the normal amount for her own production. If you produce Essence of Man and you both survive, you will be quite wealthy. We will, of course, not lose money on the bargain; we expect Essence of Man to be extremely valuable."
The doctor turned and walked out. Chris felt himself tilt backwards. He struggled for a moment, then relaxed again. After all, it wasn't like he was going to fall over! He was wheeled out and into a long hall, then a large room. He saw an emaciated woman being wheeled out. She seemed to have been frozen at the height of an orgasm, though it was hard to tell. Her bottle did not look empty, though, but rather filled with a clear solid. The air bubbles trailing up from her mouth told that tale, stopped in mid-rise.
Chris's bottle was backed up into the empty spot. He heard people talking about hooking up chemical and waste lines, and other terms he couldn't figure out. As that was going on, he saw another bottle being wheeled in across from him. The woman inside was quite shapely, and quite pretty, and evidently quite terrified. She obviously knew what she was in for. She sobbed, seemingly pleading for her life, tears streaming down her cheeks. Not a sound escaped her bottle.
Chris tried to give her a reassuring smile. She seemed to scream and pass out. The technicians hooked her up anyway.
The next few days - if they were that; time quickly lost any sort of meaning; the light never changed, there were no meal breaks as such, just endless repetition - were full of what seemed to be tests. The technicians made obscure comments and took obscure readings from obscure instruments as they drove Chris wild with arousal by vibrating his bottle. They seemed to be measuring his ability to withstand pleasure. He came occasionally, but more often he was denied, the pleasure ebbing away, ever closer to the edge of orgasm. Every now and then, he slept; every now and then, he was fed by a tube inserted into his bottle; every now and then, he was washed, the bottle filling with soapy water, then draining, filling with clear water, draining again, then warm air blowing him dry.
When he could, he watched the woman whose life was linked to his own. She looked impossibly young and vulnerable. He even smiled at her, and finally got a hesitant smile in reply. Chris felt the need to reassure her, to let her know he would do all he could to help her survive what was to come. He hoped it got through.
Finally, the doctor appeared again. He addressed both Chris and the woman across from him. "Your preparation is complete. We will now begin the extraction process. When we have extracted all we can from you both, and if you have survived, then we will restore you to such health as we are able and offer you release.
"We have found it is better not to give you any hints of how long you are to remain in that state, or any clues as to the passage of time. You will settle into your lives better that way.
"You will not see me again unless and until it is time to be removed from your bottle. Good luck." The doctor walked out without a backward glance. Chris looked across, to see the woman crying again. He wanted to hold her, protect her, shield her... but all he could do is give her a confident smile. She sniffled and gave him a brave look, lip quivering.
The first treatment began right away. First, vibrations in the glass drove him to the edge of orgasm, but stopped before he could actually let go. Next, the bottle started filling up to Chris's neck with a cold chemical that smelled terrible and make his skin tingle uncomfortably. When it reached his chin, he was told to close his eyes tight and hold his breath as long as he could. He held it just as the fluid reached his nose, going on to completely cover his body. He started to release the air slowly, but after a while, he could hold it no longer and started struggling. The fluid level dropped below his chin quickly. Chris took several deep breaths before the fluid started rising again. He held his breath a bit longer this time. The process was repeated ten times before the fluid was drained away. Chris felt a little of his vitality draining away with it.
A look across the way showed the woman crying as her fluid drained. Chris waited till she looked at him, and then made a funny face at her. That got a surprised look, then a giggle, and then a smile.
The process was repeated twice more. After the third, the vibrations came back, pushing him finally over the edge and keeping him there far longer than he thought possible. When he was finally allowed to come down, he passed out from sheer exhaustion.
That set the routine. Every "day", he'd be awakened, and fed, then the chemical would drain away a bit more of his strength and vitality, and then he'd finally be permitted to cum, filling the shell with his semen. His body shrank, but unlike the woman across the way, he didn't settle into the bottle deeper. A bar between his legs held him up. When he had lost enough weight, he could move his arms and feel it, and himself.
He'd long since lost count before the three treatments a day were cut to two, then one. He was getting skinnier than he'd been since he was a kid, and the woman was looking positively gaunt. Still, he kept smiling at her, and she responded, even making kissing motions at him. Part of him wanted to hate her for getting him into this, but he knew that there wasn't anything he could do to her that was worse than what she was going through now.
Finally, one day, the chemical was replaced with warm water. That marked a turning point. From there, he started to put on weight again, as did the woman. He didn't feel stronger, really, since there was no way to test it, but he did feel better. He didn't fill out the bottle again the way the woman across the way did, though.
Chris heard a voice in the speakers for the first time since the first treatment. "We have restored your health to the best of our ability. You now have a decision to make. Do you wish to be removed form your bottle, or do you wish to resume your treatments? You may think about the decision. When you have decided, blink your eyes in an SOS pattern, and the lid will open so you can be heard."
He didn't need to think. He blinked the SOS immediately. The lid opened, accompanied by a blast of cold air. "Yes?"
Chris tried to speak, but all that came out was a croak. The tube slid in, and he sucked water greedily. Another try. "I want out. I also have a request."
"Don't ask the woman across the way. Simply remove her, after I'm out, and let me be the first person she sees."
"We have not asked her yet. We will see if Doctor Van Hugh approves your request." The lid closed.
A little bit later, the lid opened again. This time, it was the doctor. "You have earned that. Very well. I approve."
The technicians returned to disconnect his bottle and wheel him out. The woman's eyes followed him longingly, as far as they could, a glimmer of hope shining in them.
The removal process was surprisingly anticlimactic. The bottle was scored deeply around Chris's shoulders, and a deft tap with a hammer cracked it open. The top lifted off, and gentle hands pulled him out. The sudden emptiness inside drew a groan. He was laid gently on a gurney, clean sheets feeling rough after the glass. They wheeled him into a room by himself to wait.
A while later, and the door opened. The woman was wheeled in on her own gurney. "Next to me, please, then please leave us alone."
She looked at him, fearfully, lip quivering. He stretched out his arms and drew her into a tight hug. "I've wanted to do that ever since I first saw you."
"Hello, Chris. I'm Julie. You don't hate me?"
"I used to. But then I realized that there wasn't any point, that nothing I could do would hurt you more. I couldn't take your life, especially at the cost of my own. Nothing else mattered."
Julie started crying softly. Chris hugged her, stroking her back. He had a flash of surprise that he was naked, hugging a lovely naked woman, and not at all aroused. Right now, it didn't matter. She needed him to be there, and he was.
A long while later, there was a knock at the door. The doctor came in. "You both will be pleased to know that Essence of Man is everything we had hoped. You are both now quite wealthy."
"How long has it been, doctor?"
Julie answered for him. "If it's the usual, it was eighteen months."
The doctor stopped her. "No, not this time. The experiment went so well we extended it. You were in there for a total of two years, sixteen months of extraction, eight months of recovery." Julie gasped. "That's right. You now hold the record for survival, Julie. I recommend you not try to extend it. Re-entering the bottle would be suicide. As for you, Christian, we do not know what a second course of extraction would do to you, but I cannot in good conscience recommend it."
Chris spoke up. "So where do we go from here?"
"You will be cared for while you continue your recuperation. Once you have regained the ability to live independently, you may depart. However, you should know that you will be watched. Any attempt to disclose what has happened to you will find you waking up inside a bottle."
"An effective threat, given your warning." Julie nodded her agreement. "All right, I'll keep mum."
"Good. Now, I have work to do. Congratulations." The doctor departed.
Chris turned to Julie again, drawing her close, and held her till they both fell asleep. It was the perfect start to a new life.
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