Medical Trials (Part 4)

~~~A Few Months Later~~~

Evan pushed the janitorial cart down the hall, and into the last cell on the hallway. The room was filthy, but he knew better than to ask questions about what might have happened in there–he could smell some cum, shit and piss, but there was more blood than anything else. He stripped the bed and shoved the still damp, but cool sheets into the laundry bag, and then started cleaning up the walls.

He’d been working in the Trinq labs as a janitor for…for as long as he could remember, which wasn’t really that long. He wasn’t exactly smart, and most everything failed to keep his interest, unless it had to do with his job, cum, or his boyfriend. He wiped down the mirror, looking at his face with disinterest. It still wasn’t quite…familiar to him, but that didn’t really matter. It was his face. How he felt about the face wasn’t important. How he felt wasn’t important. Feelings weren’t really…possible anymore anyway; all he ever really felt was calm detachment. It didn’t matter how he felt, all that mattered was that he did what he was told. He looked at himself anyway, through the red streaks. His head was perfectly smooth, just like the rest of his body. His hair had all fallen out–even his eyebrows–and none of it had grown back, not even months after his final injection. No longer strong and angular, his face was round and soft, cheeks puffed out and drooping, chins and jowls like pliable wax, eyes distant.

The rest of his body was similar. He’d shrunk substantially in the final round of tests, dropping from six foot three down to about five feet tall, even as he’d packed on fat. His weight had stabilized at 325 pounds, now that he was no longer receiving injections, but it hung off him in flaps and rolls, his grimy coveralls, grey with the Trinq logo on the breast, bulging and heaving with each movement. His balls were gone. They’d shrunk smaller and smaller until they simply ceased to exist, and his cock was less than an inch long, and completely numb to all sensation. He no longer felt like a man, really. He felt like something else entirely–genderless, perhaps, but not a woman either. Just a drone, or an object. Something unimportant. Something that existed to be used, like a tool.

He cleaned the room, hoping there might be a bit of cum he could eat, but while he could smell it, the blood was everywhere, leaving him disappointed and hungry. The room was clean in a few hours, and he checked his watch–his shift had ended fifteen minutes ago, so he wheeled the cart back to the janitorial area, threw the bloody sheets down the chute to the incinerator, got out of his jumpsuit and burned that as well, and back into his street clothes, before clocking out.

He left Trinq’s building, and walked to the bus stop. He’d grown used to the stares by now–everyone he passed could tell there was something wrong with him, that he wasn’t supposed to exist, that he didn’t fit into their usual categories. More than once, he’d been cornered by men and pummelled in alleys on the way home, but he didn’t mind that much. The longer men were around him, after all, the more likely they would feed him their cum. That was something he’d learned rather quickly–that something about him, either how he looked, or how he smelled, made men want to use him as a cumdump. He could imagine that might make a normal person feel humiliated, but Evan just felt something resembling gratitude. He liked being something that had a purpose–he liked being used.

There was no incident like that this evening, though he sat next to an older business man on the bus, and after a few minutes, the man pulled out his cock, and ordered Evan to suck it–he was happy to have a snack, at least. He got off at his stop, and walked the few blocks to where he lived with his boyfriend, Adam. But Adam wasn’t really a boyfriend, in the same way Evan wasn’t really a man any longer.

Adam worked as a police detective–in particular, he’d taken over the caseload of a certain Evan Timmons, who’d committed suicide earlier that year. He didn’t really work for the police, however. Or rather, he worked for the police, but he also worked for Trinq Inc.–burying cases, funnelling prisoners and inconvenient witnesses into experimental drug programs, destroying evidence. In return, Adam had been receiving samples of several new drug therapies from the company. He was already home when Evan arrived–he could smell him in the second bedroom of the apartment, which was where Evan slept in a cage, and where Adam worked out. Evan stripped out of his clothes and went and found his master, smelling him, hungry for his cum. Adam was naked as well, his extremely hirsute body matted with sweat, foot long cock half hard and leaking on the floor. Evan got down and began cleaning up–sweat, cum, piss, anything his master left behind as he continued his workout, not paying any attention to the thing following him around the room. Adam might have felt a twinge of guilt, at one point, but power and strength was more important to him now. In truth, Evan disgusted him, but also terrified him. Trinq’s executives had made it perfectly clear to him who Evan actually was–and that if Adam ever betrayed them, that he would suffer an even worse fate at their hands than the blob Officer Timmon’s had become. Trinq wasn’t about to let anyone stand in their way of power either, after all. They were going to change the world, whether people wanted them to, or not.

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